The Elf and the Faun

A breath, and the arrow was unleashed. It lodged itself on a nightingale, silencing its song.

The elf sighed in relief and stood proud. The forest was now silent, all birds gone. They deserved their deaths, those abominable creatures moving through the air. It was just unnatural, you know?

She and her clan were renowned for this policy, keeping the forest free of the unnatural. She couldn’t wait until she shared news that this section of the forest was cleared. She was sure to be praised for that.

The silence was interrupted, however. Hoof steps. Perfectly normal as far as the elf was concerned. Deer, unlike birds, were natural creatures.

But there was something off about those hoof steps. They didn’t have a fourfold succession. Rather, it was a much quicker rthythmn, like they were hurried.

Or there were only two legs.

Soon, out of the bushes came a being much like herself, only with the legs of a goat where there should be normal legs, and two crowning horns. She only heard of such creatures in legends, and eyed the newcomer like a hawk. Was such a thing natural?

His eyes were transfixed on her as well, until they noticed her deed a few meters away, and he approached the fallen bird, taking the arrow out of its breast. He stared at her in a mix of sadness and horror.

“Why did you do that?” he asked, “It was just an innocent bird.”

She scoffed.

“Birds don’t belong in the forest” she said, raising her bow and arrows, “And neither do you!”

She fired, but a mist surrounded the target and somehow she missed. She heard faint hoof steps, but she was perplexed at how she failed to get her target.

“No matter” she muttered to herself, “I’ll get him another time-”

And just like that, a chorus of birds erupted through the forest.

She roared in rage, and fired arrows at the canopy, sometimes hitting and sometimes failing, as the birds dispersed through the air.

***

Weeks passed.

It must have been a game to him, she thought. Everytime she slaughtered a bird, ten would appear soon after. She haven’t had a god day’s sleep ever since, so preoccupied as she was with killing th damn things. Even the nights were haunted by the screeching of owls. It was as though birds had returned to the forest thricefold!

No matter. At the end of her wits, she only heard one more. A dove. Hatefully bright, detestfully loud. She would enjoy killing it.

She struck it down, blood spraying on adjacent leaves. She breathed, as though she had run for ten thousand miles.

And then the damn hoof steps.

She had little strength but to turn her head, and was horrified.

He carried with him a massive birdcage, filled with all kinds of songbirds, doves, parrots, even a hawk.

“You will not stain this forest with unnatural silence!” he said.

Tired but ballistic, she lounged at him like a panther, arms hitting the bird cage, unwittingly setting the birds free. Enraged, she managed to grab a robin and crush it in her hand, grinning wickedly at that.

“Bastard!” he said and lowered his horns.

She had little time to react until she was gored by him. Blood spluttered out of her mouth like a dying scream.

She felt on the ground, tears of rage at the injustice. He walked away, and the birds sang.

Those hateful sounds carried her into the afterlife.