The Imp’s First Winter

4

It took quite some time before the Imp could reach Manuel and the kids' souls. The giant took its sweet time picking up its foot. But when it finally did, Imp was able to grab them. Miraculously the bottle and jar that contained the kids' souls had not broken. And Manuels soul had not faded out of existence, Imp happily reunited with him. Placing him an earthen jar with a large crack. Imp repaired it with wax and broken glass from a lamp that had shattered. 

For several days Imp pondered what to do. He cleared the broken pieces of the home away. But he didn’t know how to fix any of it. He made a nest with what he could, bedding, sheets, leaves and branches. He hid the souls carefully in his nest. And made temporary leaning walls from the broken lumber and branches he dragged back from the forest. 

“Manuel said we have to keep out the cold and keep our bellies full.” The imp reminded himself as he packed the walls with sticks and leaves and mud. Anything he could find to add separation from the remaining part of the home than the outside. 

It was not long after that the first snow blanketed and quieted the forest. And Imp with much of the stores for winter intact having been stored in the cellar, and shed, happily ate his days away. 

Playing with light and shadow in his nest, entertaining the contained souls. Making up games to play, that he’d play with them when they were resurrected and tricks he'd pull too. Boredom never overtook him as he played with his magic in the snow covered forest. Though true as Manuel had predicted, animals did become sparse, but they were still around. 

Imp adored stalking the ones that remained in the area and practicing his magic on them. The elk, he’d cast illusions of other bulls, and watch them charge at nothing but air with glee. The mountain lions, he’d cast illusions of birds easy for the pickings, only for the big cats to be frustrated when their paws never captured them. The bears he’d love to sneak up on, and send an illusion of another bear to bluff and fight with. Then they wouldn’t notice him plucking warm fur off their backs. Diving silently from the tree branches his nimble fingers never making his presence known. He’d do this until he had a sling full.  

And the bear's fur kept him the warmest. Lining his nest, and useful to hide the family of souls in his care. At the end of every night he’d bring them out from their hiding place, and recount how his day went. Before falling asleep clutching them all closely. 

Until one day, near the sundown part of the forest, just on the edge of the Lost Thicket. Imp felt something was very wrong. He’d grown aware and accustomed to being the hunter in this part of the forest. But immediately he sensed a presence that was most certainly conscious of him. 

Trying to slip into the comfort of shadows, he made a break for home. But the feeling returned not long after he returned. He’d been followed but by who, or what. Shivers ran up Imp's spine, and panic began to ice his veins. If it could chase him he didn’t think he could fight it off. It was no mere animal. 

Grabbing the family he lifted the rug that normally hid the cellar and carefully placed them in before lowering himself. Trying to ensure the rug still hid the cellar doors even as he closed them. It was cold, but dry, and the souls gave off comforting light. Quickly he forced his talons and claws into the icy earth. It took all his strength to burrow into the winter earth. But he managed to carve out a hole large enough for him to squeeze into. 

Pulling one of the emptied meat crocks in front of it, Imp ruffled and puffed his feathers as much as he could before curling up with the souls in his lap. They were his only source of light and warmth. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “We’ll make it to spring. I promise, then I’ll work in Conrede, and pay for the resurrection.” Parroting what Manuel had said not so long ago. As night fell the earth around him became freezing to the touch but sleep took him quickly as the warmth from the souls comforted him. 

He woke from his slumber suddenly, and did not make a sound. Above he could hear something shuffling around, searching. Imp wanted desperately to call upon his shadows and magic to further conceal himself. But something in his gut also screamed at him not to move, not to breathe, to stay absolutely still and do nothing. So he did and strained his ears to listen. 

The snuffling and huffing of large nostrils puffed air in and out rapidly. It sounded larger than a bear. The sliding and clacking of claws told Imp it was probably more ferocious than a bear too. He couldn’t tell how many legs it had, but he felt certain it was more than four. 

Quite suddenly, the searching stopped. And after a series of loud crashing noises, silence followed. Imp sensed that the creature had fled. But that only led to a feeling of dread overcoming him. What monster had caused that monster to run?