Snap! Thud!Chervil could feel his own heartbeat. Barely breathing, he pressed his back closer to the bark, one paw clutching his tail anxiously.
Crack, thud, snap.It was closer. He looked around frantically for an exit, just able to make out shapes in the darkness.
Thud... thud-thud-thud- Chervil sprang away from the tree he'd been hiding behind, diving for the bushes as the fox's jaws snapped shut a just an inch behind him. The puff of hot breath on his back was almost a solid force, spurring him onwards as he fled on all fours across the leaf litter. The fox turned and caught up to him in just a few steps, and a paw slammed onto his tail, jerking the mouse backwards. Chervil looked up and saw the fox lowering its head, jaws open wide, and in a fit of terror he struggled wildly with a shriek. Turning towards the paw over his tail, he dodged to the side as the fox snapped it's mouth shut and missed him a second time, then darted forwards, sinking his incisors into the fox's paw as strongly as he could.
The predator above him yelped and leapt back, almost lifting the mouse with it, but seeing his chance Chervil dropped and sprinted away. He scrambled over a log, running along the length and springing from the end towards the bushes. Behind him, he could hear the fox hurrying towards him, each pawstep like a thunderclap on the dry leaves. Just as it reached him, Chervil dived headfirst for the safety of the foliage, and for a brief moment he felt as if the fox would simply pluck him out of the air there and then.
And then, his paws met tough stems and his pelt met sharp thorns. He winced, and behind him the fox scraped at the brambles and yelped a second time as thorns pierced its paws . With a much greater threat behind him, Chervil had no choice but to crawl as best as he could, weaving around the spikes until he reached the main stem of the brambles. With wide eyes he stared back the way he had came, and staring back were the sharp amber eyes of what could have been his killer. The fox stood still for a few seconds, watching the prey, and then promptly decided that a face full of thorns was not worth the tiny snack within. With a flick of its tail, it trotted away to seek another food elsewhere, and inside the bushes Chervil breathed a sigh of relief.
===================
For a long while he waited inside those bushes, and by the time he left them the night sky was beginning to grow lighter. He hadn't seen the fox since it had given up on hunting him, but still every sound terrified him, even the movement of leaves in the wind put him on edge. He'd always been a particularly timid mouse, but the earlier near-death experience would definitely take some time to recover from.
In the dim light, he gripped his tail again (he did this often as a subconscious action) only to let go again with a gasp of pain. A sharp ache shot through his left paw, and as he slowly clenched and unclenched it testingly he realised it felt suspiciously wet. He must have have scratched it while running through the thorns, he supposed. His sides and ears had the same ache, and with a weary sigh he stood up, limping a little as he moved towards the lighter world beyond. It was risky leaving the shelter, but his injuries wouldn’t tend to themselves.
Leaving the brambles behind, he stuck to the shadows, freezing in fear every time he heard something. It would always take a while before he'd start moving on again, and so his progress was rather slow. As the first ray of true sunlight reached the forest floow, the ground grew damp beneath his paws- recognising it as a sign of water he hurried on quickly. Water meant he could clean his wounds, and the sooner he reached the source the better. Slowly but surely the sound of running water grew louder, until at last he lifted up a leaf with his working front paw and found himself at a pond. It was calm and peaceful, not a single animal in sight, and completing the beautiful scene was an old willow tree at the opposite shore, the long leafy branches swaying gracefully. Chervil noticed he was smiling, a welcome change from his usual nervousness, and after a short moment to admire the view he quickly set to work.
Moving along the bank, he searched both the shore and his mind, trying to remember the correct way to bandage a wound and also seeking the supplies he needed. A little further around the pond he discovered what he was looking for among some water primroses; tall cattails with wide, clean leaves. Stepping back, he judged the distance before taking a running start towards the water, and leapt for the stalks as best as he could.
Splash!That didn’t go to plan.
Weakly spluttering, he crawled back onto solid ground. At least the cuts were somewhat washed. He stood up on his hind legs, looking around for anything that he could use to help him.
And that’s when he saw it. Two golden eyes, watching him from the darkness under some ferns.
Chervil froze again, like he always did. He hated this feeling, trying so desperately to move as his body betrayed him. No matter how he struggled, his body was always stuck in place until the danger had almost reached him- how he’d lived this long was a complete mystery.
The eyes came a little closer, and while his body stayed still as a stone Chervil's mind was a mess. This was it, he was too injured to run fast enough, he couldn't escape, this was how he'd die-
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.”
Chervil looked up, still fearful but mostly surprised. Stood before him was a sleek cinnamon-coloured doe with dark brown patches, and those same golden eyes were looking back at him, although this time they were accompanied with a friendly smile.
"It's ok, there's no dangers here. You should probably sit down, you look like you're about to keel over!" the doe laughed, looking him up and down. Chervil didn't see any comedy in his condition, but she was right. His body regaining movement again, he fell back to sit on his hind legs, wincing a little from his cuts.
"Tired, soaking wet, and covered in scratches... Either you've been on the run, or you've had a very unlucky night. Or both. Probably both." The other mouse drew closer, suddenly becoming a little more sincere as she crouched beside him. Chervil was quiet for a long time, recalling the fox, the brambles, the fear. The doe began to speak again, but he remained inside his thoughts, oblivious. It was only when he felt a cold feeling on his arm that he realised she was still there, and now she was using a small leaf to gently tip water over his injured paw. The cold shock at first was uncomfortable, but after a moment the pain in his hand numbed a little.
He watched her work, but he couldn't help but notice she didn't really know how to tend to the wounds. He'd been taught by his mother from a young age, and it had never occurred to him that other mothers might not do the same. After a few minutes, he felt he needed to have it done properly, and so he eventually found the strength to speak up.
"Cattails."
"I-I'm sorry?" the doe replied, clearly confused.
"I was trying to reach the cattail leaves over there. They're... very good for bandages."
The doe considered this information for a moment, then stood up to face the water where the cattails were growing. Like he had done before, she took a running start, and sprang towards the stems. She landed on the bottom of one, her tail dipping into the water, and it only took her a few seconds for her to shimmy upwards to where the largest leaves were. Leaning across, she took hold of one, and glanced back.
"How's this one?"
"Yes, that'll do nicely. Get as much of it in one piece as you can, please."
The doe nodded, and moved her hand down to the base of the leaf. A few quick tugs were all it took for it to come loose, and she gently took hold of the edge in her mouth before leaping back to the shore. Returning to him once more, she offered it to him, along with another friendly smile.
"Thank you." Chervil said, offering a small smile back. With that, he quickly began measuring and cutting the leaf into various lengths. He carefully nibbled at the edge of each piece, drawing out the sticky sap within, and that he used to glue and bind the leaf over the cut. There were a few he couldn't reach on his back, but the doe had quickly picked up on his method and so had made her own. She didn't apply them quite as carefully as he did, or make the edges sticky enough, but they would do for now.
As they started on the last few cuts, the doe suddenly asked a question.
"Do you know what a tribe is?"
Chervil didn't. His mother had been a solitary, careful creature, and he'd never known his father. His life had been one of caution, and apart from a few chance meetings on his travels he'd never properly talked to another mouse, let alone live with one.
"...No?"
"Do you want me to tell you?"
"...Ok?"
"Well, I am Sparrow, and I am the leader of my Tribe..."
And so, this 'Sparrow' mouse began to explain about tribes to Chervil. Talk of living with others, having a family, a place to truly call home. Safety, warmth, happiness. And the more she talked, the more it began to dawn on Chervil that his life could be so much better. He was a nervous, awkward mouse... but more than anything, he was lonely.
After a while, she finished explaining, and the last bandage was put into place. Sparrow sat down beside him, and after some silence he found the courage to speak up again.
"Sparrow?"
"Yes?"
"Could... Could I join your Tribe?"
Sparrow thought about it for a moment, then gave him another smiled. She liked to smile a lot, he'd noticed.
"Of course, but one condition."
"And that is?"
"Can you please tell me your name?"
Chervil blinked in surprise, realising his mistake, and coughed awkwardly.
"S-sorry. I'm Chervil."
"Chervil... a healing plant, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, I think I have a spot in my Tribe that'll be perfect for you."
Sparrow stood up, and offered him a paw. He looked at it for a moment, then very carefully took it, only to nearly fall over as she pulled him to his feet. The doe steadied him, then laughed a little.
"Sorry about that. Come on, it's this way."
End.