moni uddin

A Fresh Start

Horntree Village, Spring.

I’ve decided to try to convince the cattlefolk that there’s another way. If we work together, we could rebuild Horntree, strengthen the cattlefolk, and create a path out of the grass, avoiding the beast altogether.

I’ve got it all planned out. I’ll speak to Apollo first and show him my drawings. Everyone in the village looks up to him, and his warriors will be key to making this work. I’ll show him the blueprints to repair the buildings, the map of Horntree with the path out, and the plan to steer clear of the beast.

But I’m scared. Being unable to speak made communication hard for me in Mowton. Yes, I can write things down, but there are always questions. Always replies.

How will Apollo and Tess react when I ask them to leave their ancestral home? They could reject the idea outright. They could kick me out. I need courage right now more than ever.

But I have to do this. It’s the right thing to do. They’ve helped me, and now it’s my chance to help them. I have to at least try.

Sable approached Apollo during one of his training sessions. The great bull rushed toward him, and Sable froze at the sight, his instincts flaring. He knew Apollo meant him no harm, but the sheer size of the bull was rivalled only by the beast.

“Little one! You’ve decided to help us,” said Apollo. He crouched down to meet Sable, his weary eyes lit with hope. “With your aid, I’m certain we can finally free Horntree village.” 

But Sable shook his head sombrely, his chest tightening as the tension in the air grew heavy.

“Oh,” Apollo murmured, his face clouding over as the burdens of the village settled on his shoulders once more.

Sable reached into his pack and carefully pulled out the drawings he had prepared. Apollo’s eyes narrowed as he watched Sable unfurl them on the dirt between them. The first was a rough map of the village, with clear markings showing a path cutting through the grass to the north. At the head of the path, Sable had written Apollo’s name alongside a group of his warriors.

“You would have us leave Horntree village?” Apollo spat. “Our homes, the homes of our ancestors. The beast would take us all before we’d made it an hour in. How could you suggest such a thing?” 

Sable’s resolve wavered under the heat of Apollo’s anger. Yet, he held Apollo’s gaze and let out a deep breath as he remembered why he was there: the plight of Horntree, the cattlefolk on the edge of survival, the calves robbed of their childhood. He believed in this plan, and that hadn’t changed.

Hands trembling, Sable continued to show Apollo the rest of the drawings. The next one was a set of blueprints to rebuild the homes. The sketches showed every house in Horntree village as it stood now, patched and fragile. But beneath each one were carefully shaped wooden pieces that would fit perfectly to repair the gaps.

“You drew this?” Apollo said, his voice softening slightly as he picked up the paper. He turned it over, studying it from every angle. Slowly, the pieces began to connect in his mind. “This could work . . . but it would require a craftsman, and we don’t have anyone like that here.”

Sable pointed at the wooden pieces in the drawing, then tapped his own chest.

“You can do this?”

Sable nodded firmly, his belief unshaken. He felt courage building up in each moment. He reached for the final drawing. This one depicted a map of all the cattlefolk leaving through the newly cut path in the grass. The face of a small cat was drawn within the surrounding grass, with short lines depicting its movement. Sable saw the moment Apollo realised the plan, and that Sable meant to use himself as a distraction for the beast. 

Apollo closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, pausing for a moment. “I am so sorry, little one.” He now looked Sable directly in the eyes with a deep respect, almost like he was cattlefolk himself. “Sorry I ever doubted you . . . Here you are ready to put yourself at risk, whilst I am clinging to the very past I always tell Tess to let go of. Your plan could work, but the village is weak. Most are just focused on making it through the day.”

Finally, Sable opened his pack. The rich, smoked aroma wafted out, and Apollo’s nose twitched. Sable handed him a piece of fish, gesturing for him to eat. Apollo hesitated, glancing from the fish to Sable, before swallowing it. A rush of energy surged through him, and he smacked his lips, savouring the taste.

“What on earth was that, little one?” Apollo asked, his eyes widening. “It’s delightful! I feel like one or two more of those, and I’d be completely satisfied.”

Sable simply handed over the rest of the pack. Inside, Apollo found many more pieces of the fish neatly wrapped in protective paper.

“We will never forget this little one. If we can share this with the rest, we can focus on finding a way out. Tess and some others may need convincing to leave our home, but I’m with you. Your courage and generosity have shown me another way.”

For many cattlefolk, it did take time for them to come around. Their pride and deep connection to Horntree were not easily swayed. But as Sable and Apollo rationed out the fish, began repairing homes, and started cutting a path through the grass, hope began to grow. Slowly, muscle and colour returned to the villagers, their bodies healing with nourishment and their spirits lifting with the promise of change. With clearer minds, they turned their focus toward building a new future.

Tess, though supportive, remained steadfast. “My fate lies here,” she declared, handing Apollo another sphere containing a sapling. “But remember, a fresh start is also a chance to do right.” Apollo clutched it to his chest, a silent vow on his face.

The grass-cutting intensified in the weeks that followed, the path out becoming clearer with every stroke of a blade. Each tuft that fell revealed glimpses of their history. The once great buildings, taverns, and spiritual grounds that had been buried beneath the overgrowth were uncovered one by one. Occasionally, the beast stirred, sending the cattlefolk retreating in cautious silence. Yet, it mostly left them alone, as if it understood and was content that its lesson had been learned.

Then, at last, the final tuft of grass fell. The landscape unfolded before them, vast and vibrant, painted in hues of green and white. A new pasture stretched endlessly, a blank slate for a better start and a brighter future.

Sable and Apollo exchanged a quiet glance. The great bull, ever strong, let out a deep breath as if releasing the weight of the village’s needs for the first time. But for a moment, it was Sable who stood taller, his eyes fixed ahead.

The base of the Blue Mountain stared at him, just a day’s walk away. Sable held its gaze, his chest rising with newfound confidence. The small courage he had shown for the cattlefolk seemed to ripple outward. He realised then that the challenges ahead were no longer beyond him but were stepping stones waiting to be crossed with brave purpose.

Courage, he now understood, begins in small, meaningful moments. But once it takes root, it becomes a foundation to build upon and draw from in the hardest times.