Username: Creative
Why is the kalon hiding?: The rain was pouring, coming down in cold heavy sheets that made it almost impossible to see even two feet ahead, blurring the shapes of trees and foliage and twisting them into fearful images. The crashes of thunder weren't even the loudest part of the storm, it was the wind as it howled on the air like a pack of wolves, strong enough to force even the thickest oak tree to creak and strain to stay upright in the ground. Lightning was intermittent but when it struck, it struck in a flash that lit up miles for just a moment, just enough to chase away darkened shadows and replace them with somehow more sinister looking figures in the harsh blink of light.
Not once in decades had a storm this severe attacked this area. The land itself was revolting against the onslaught, rocky hills and outcroppings already becoming casualties, sliding down on themselves and taking out anything and everything in their paths. The rivers were rising more and more every minute that it rained, gorging themselves on the extra water and overfrowing the riverbeds and shores that once contained them.
It was more than bad weather, it was deadly. Trees and shrubs were uprooted and tossed across the winds on a whim. The ground, so saturated with the rain, that even on its driest day it could never had hoped to suck up all the water it was being drowned with. But for one kalon, the storm was at most just a terrifying inconvenience, having found a cave embedded into rock that had suffered through centuries of storms worse than this and stood to tell of the tale. It was their best hope, their only hope, to brave the storm.
The cave wasn't dry, it wasn't warm, it wasn't cozy, but it was safe, and that was enough. It was safe, it was a haven, it was dark and mildewed, but it was
safety from the hungry jaws of the howling wind that threatened the kalon with every drawn out moan that echoed within the cave walls. The kalon, soaked through to the bone and shivering, tucked themself into a tight ball, their face firmly buried into the wet fluff of their tail as they tried to reassure themself they'd be safe. Every thunder crash was met with a shudder as they buried their face deeper into the still-wet fur, every groan of the wind had them shutting their eyes tighter as if they could will the storm out of existence, and every creak of the trees was met with a silent whimper begging them to stay upright and not fall.
But among the harsh sounds of the storm, of which the poor soggy kalon had become quite familiar with over the hours they spent within the cave, there was a sound that came from the mouth of the very cave they were hiding within that they hadn't heard before. In a flash that rivaled that of lightning, the kalon darted behind a grouping of stalagmites, pressing themself into the wall and as far into the shadows as they could. They would take no chances, no risk. It had sounded like squishing footsteps sinking into the earth, and then steps onto the rock of the cave mouth. A million thoughts ran through the kalon's mind, each more panicked than the last, interrupting themselves, stacking on top of each other, becoming as overflowed and flooded in his mind as the rivers were on their banks.
From the spaces between the stalagmites, the kalon peered out with wide eyes, trembling as they forced themself to be still. Hardly daring to breathe even when all the thoughts in their head made it so they were bordering on hyperventilating if given the chance. They saw a figure, obscured by the darkness and the rain, but a figure that was moving, coming further into the cave. It could be someone to kick them out, to fight them for the right of this safe-haven, this slice of sanctuary that they had found for themselves. It could be a bear, and they had unwittingly called a bear's den their savior from the storm. It could be anything, it could be as deadly as the storm.
The kalon was no longer just shaking from their cold, drenched fur.
How you coax it out:The storm was growing worse the longer it went on. What I was certain would be just another summer shower was turning into a full-blown catastrophic storm. The canoe was lost at this point, gone down in the river and never to be seen again, having crashing into rocks and capsized, throwing me out into the churning waters where I only barely got to the riverbank and pulled myself out coughing up mouthfuls of muddied water before another mudslide on the opposite side of the river fed more trees and rocks into the already upset river. It was a miracle that my backpack hadn't slipped off my shoulders in the chaos.
I wasn't sure whether I should stay under the large trees for shelter against the rain and wind or steer clear for fear of lightning striking me down along with the tree. The wind was bad enough to nearly take me off my feet as it pelted rain and small twigs and leaves into my face, twice cutting my cheek. I pressed on through the forest, though completely lost and foreign with my surroundings, the rain making everything seem alien in this forest.
I trudged through the forest as quick as I could searching for shelter from the wind and rain, but the rain was blinding and with every step I took the mud threatened to suck the shoes right off from my feet. I leaned into the wind, hunching myself over, trying to just keep pushing forward, trying to just
survive against this storm. It felt as though with each step I took, the storm grew angrier at my defiance against it, throwing more at me until the very rain itself felt like pins against whatever skin wasn't covered by my jacket.
After what felt like years of traversing through this storm, a large dark shape loomed in the distance. A flash of merciful lightning lit up the forest for a brief second and gave definition to the shape. A cave. If I could make it to the cave, I could wait out the storm as safely as I could manage even as ill-prepared as I was. With ever increasing sense of emergency, I shlopped my way through the grabby mud and finally collapsed into the cave with a harsh, relieved bark of a laugh.
Safety.
Not quite. Movement caught my attention, just out of the corner of my eye. What appeared to be a tail disappearing behind an outcropping of stalagmites. Fear shot through my own heart but, the creature appeared to be scared of me. Looking back at the storm as I slowly sat upright, I knew there was no where else for me to go. Not right now. Not until it died down.
Turning back to face whatever hid behind the rocky formations, I shrugged off my pack and began digging through it. It was too dark to make out whatever it was, I could only hope it wasn't anything dangerous, but there was only one way to find out. I pulled out my travel-sized lanturn (only a little soggy thank goodness), set it on the ground in between me and the stalagmites, and flipped it on.
Light illuminated the cave, the walls of the cave looking slick and puddles that collected on the ground reflected the not-too-bright light, ripples making the light bounce off the walls as the ceiling dropped more water into the puddles. The creature wasn't as large as I had feared at least--it was still hard to make out--but my own fears were somewhat calmed by the light.
I searched my pack for something to appease whatever animal I had trapped myself in this cave with, but to be honest, I hadn't brought much. A few granola bars, a couple of oranges, a now soaking hat that I set to the side to dry (as much as it could anyway, and a bottle of lotion sunscreen that had burst and now covered everything. But... the oranges might work. At the very least it would cheer me up anyway.
I grabbed the hat again and used it to wipe off the sunscreen from both oranges, and as I began to peel them, I hummed a little tune I made up as I went, partially trying to soothe my nerves and partially trying to soothe the creature's nerves. Soon, the smell of oranges filled the cave. They were a little roughed up from the canoe capsizing, but they weren't inedible. I was hoping the smell would entice the creature a little, hopefully combined with my trying to remain calm as well, ease the creature into calming down. A trapped and cornered, fearful animal is not something that I'd want to deal with, but with the storm sounding as angry as ever, it wasn't really a choice I had.
I gently ripped the orange into slices and set a couple at the corner of the outcropping of stalagmites the creature was hiding behind. I laid a trail of a few orange slices leading up the rest of the orange that sat a little more in the light. Still humming my own little song, I peeled my own orange, keeping my demeanor carefully calm and my focus seemingly trained on my orange as I tried to appear as a friend and not a foe.