Don’t Drink The Water

Owl Creek - Wyoming

Cyrus made his way down the road, coasting the bike as much as possible to reduce the noise. After about 2 miles, he finally found a trail cutting into the forest. He stopped and dismounted his motorcycle. As the engine died out, the sounds of the forest seemed to rise. Cyrus grabbed his canteen from his saddlebag, then made his way down the trail, toward the sound of the running water. He kept his head on a swivel, checking his surroundings constantly.

Eventually, Cyrus came to a clearing and found the creek. The water had an ambient blue glow, apparently produced by whatever bioluminescent creatures were living there. Cyrus wasn't sure if he should drink this water, but his thirst had become more intense as he listened to the creek trickling downhill. The sound was crisp, and oh so inviting. He figured he could just have a drink or two...

Perrine was making his way towards the unknown. The vulnerability he felt was to be expected. With each guided step he was drawing closer to an uncertain outcome. Fortunately, Peekaboo had stowed away and feeling his tension growing made her presence known. Perrine went back and forth with her about how she was supposed to stay back at camp, but within moments he was actually grateful she had come along. It made him feel more at ease to have backup. The crows were opportunistic, but Peekaboo was a true friend.

When Perrine was near enough to survey the mysterious man, he remained out of sight and let the crows do the majority of the surveillance. One crow landed in a tree not far from Cyrus. And they started squawking back information to Perrine. Much like the telephone game, Perrine started to question the accuracy as some of what they relayed started not to make sense. He did quietly get closer so he could at least peek from a concealed vantage point and put a visual with the crow play by play.

Everything seemed benign. It was a man, by himself, trying to fill up a water canteen. Perrine instantly recognized the man was out of his depth in his attempts to quench his thirst. Though he couldn’t blame him, Perrine could remember being so thirty that he considered trying anything that was wet.

He couldn’t stand it though. Watching someone unknowingly harm themselves when you could prevent it was against his sense of morality.

Perrine remained behind a tree and called out. “Ie vould nut doo that, frviend. Poyson vater.” He put extra emphasis on the word friend.