"What bad thing happened?" August asked Isaac, goosebumps beginning to prick her skin.
"It's where the witches were burned," the young boy answered with a smirk on his face.
August felt her arms go cold. There was a dark glint in Isaac's eyes as he studied her for her reaction.
"What I love about that suggestion," August started, "is that it takes into consideration something important that happened in the community. That's what urban interventions in cities are all about. It's like the artwork enters into a conversation with the surroundings."
August took a few more moments to think about how something like this could actually work beautifully—the pups could make their creations surrounding that spot as a kind of memorial to the alyko who were murdered. It was possible that the project would raise a few hackles in the pack for those who were against the alyko, but then again it was unlikely others would see the forest sculptures unless they specifically went to that spot. And everyone was telling her she belonged here, that she needed to be strong for the pack, that she needed to feel her value. There was value in this.
"I love the idea, Isaac. It's brilliant," she said with a smile and patted him on the shoulder before following the others out the door. Isaac watched her, dumbfounded.
"Alright kiddos, listen up!" August called to the pups who were spread around gathering twigs and bark. "Isaac had a great idea, so we have a slight change of plans. We are still going to make your amazing ideas into a reality, but we are going to move them to surround the ruins where the alyko were… taken back to the Moon Goddess."
Some of the children's eyes went wide. "You mean where they were killed?" Bear asked while raising his hand.
August nodded her head with a gentle smile. "We'll use the project as a memorial for them. It will make what you create that much more special."
"Can we change our sketches?" Plum asked.
"Sure—if you think of something else you would like to do that suits this better, you can certainly change them," August answered. Plum gathered with the two other girls in her group and started whispering.
Greta slowly stood from where she was resting against the building and gestured for August to come over. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea," she whispered.
"Why?" August grimaced, wondering now if she should reconsider. Would it be traumatizing for the pups? What had happened to the alyko back then was something they would not have personally experienced, but she couldn't be sure what they had heard or been told by their families.
"Well…" Greta started, but every objection that came to her mind seemed to be fueled by her own fear or fear of stirring up objections in the pack. She looked back at August whose pupils had become enlarged as she glanced around their surroundings before zeroing in on something in Greta's chest. "Don't do that," Greta said suddenly.
"Don't do what?" August's eyebrows pinched together in question.
"Don't… look into my heart," Greta stammered.
"What?" August breathed a laugh, but then she watched as Greta tucked the cardigan she was wearing tightly around herself as if covering herself from the cold.
"I wasn't," August murmured and averted her eyes with a pained expression. "That wasn't my intention. I'm sorry you're worried about it. I was just gauging the pups' reactions to what I suggested," she cleared her throat and scanned the pups again. "I think this could be good for them and for the pack. And it works perfectly with the concept of the project."
She heard Greta exhale, and when she turned to get her reaction Greta seemed to be searching the woods for something. "I may have to stay here. I'm still really nauseous, I'm sorry. But if you trust the pups to take you, you can go. It isn't too far."
August smiled in triumph. "Will you be okay here, though? I don't want to leave you if you're not feeling well."
Greta nodded, her face still looking pale. "I"ll be fine. At least I'm sick for a good reason." She gave a weak smile, and August squeezed her arm.
"Okay, we'll be back," August reassured her. "Who's going to show me the way?" she asked as she made her way back to the pups.
Greta was right—it wasn't too far of a walk. As Isaac led them through the golden glow of fallen leaves, the pups talked excitedly about the upcoming Samhain celebration.
"I was thinking we could make masks for Samhain. What do you guys think?" August asked.
"How would we do that?" Plum asked.
"Oh, I could make mine a unicorn!" Alice exclaimed.
"I want to make a unicorn, too!" Clementine said.
"You can't copy!" Alice objected
"Mine will look different," Clementine answered.
"How would we make masks, Miss August?" Plum asked.
"I want to do a skeleton!" one of the boys ahead of them called.
"There is a process called paper mache where you basically sculpt the mask out of paper dipped in a kind of glue. The paper gets hard and really sturdy, and then you can paint it," August explained.
"It sounds pretty easy," Plum said thoughtfully.
"Can I make a lion?" Alexander asked.
"Why would you want to be a lion when you're a wolf, dummy," Isaac laughed.
"To be something different. Lions are so tough," Alexander answered. "Have you every heard a lion roar? Wolfs don't roar like that."
"Lycans are the toughest of all creatures," Isaac answered.
"I don't know about that. What about vampires?"
"Oh! I want to be a vampire! Or maybe an alien!" Bear said.
"Maybe you should be a bear," Isaac replied.
"Very funny, Isaac."
"You can make all of those things with paper mache. And Isaac, be nice," August said.
Isaac scoffed in front of them, but he remained quiet. August watched the bright auras of the children hum around her, and for the first time it felt perfectly normal being here. All she needed was a bunch of pups absorbed in their own innocent lives to keep her mind off of all the rest of the madness. She could pretend she was one of them—going on a little adventure in the woods equipped with only a sketchbook and her imagination.
The shadow of a memory from Suicide Forest niggled at her mind, but she pushed it away.. This part of the forest was bright and happy, and she was far away from Eliade.
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