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came to a clearing. We stopped by an ancient gnarly tree trunk surrounded by tall yellow flowers.
    “Wolfbane.”  
    “This you are assure of? The pics I have seen when we did stuff about nature and the like in geog class, show a pretty blue petal plant. Not this scraggy permutation.”
    “The blue stuff is not true. It goes by the name ‘Monkshood’ and although quite as deadly, it has not the power to inflict the extra hurt upon the Wolfies.”
    I reached to pluck some up to stash in my Synthbag for later use, but Wirt pulled my arm away. “Do not. Even the tenderest tap will harm. Be not fearful, Wolfies will not follow us here.”
    “Truly? I had thought it a myth.”
    “No myth, all fact.”
    I rubbed a burgeoning welt on my arm that came from the briefest of contacts with the shrub and said, “Not sure I wish to traipse amongst such deadly veg.”  
    “Worry not about harm. I know the way.” He scrunched himself down upon the earth and scratched the ground looking for something under the surface. He slid his fingers around a fibrous root, yanked it out and began to chew the end.
    “If you are with hunger, Wirt, I have many a sachet of grub and the like,” I said and took a pack of Soysausage from my bag. “We can mix it up, make a fire and eat heartily from its goodness.” He shook his head and I stuffed the dried meal back from whence it came. He sat upon a rotting wood stump and held up the root.
    “This protects. I make a paste of it and smooth it into my flesh, then all is shielded from the plants poison.”
    “My jaw drops at your wondrousness. Come, I will masticate too and make us both immune.”
    I rested myself beside the teen and chomped upon the rootlet, pursing my lips at its bitter taste. I spat out the pulp into my hand, and then rubbed it along my forearm, fingers and palm. He did the same. Then indicated by way of mimicking a kittle lapping at some cream, that he required some water to rinse away the excess mulch. I took a flask of said same wet and gargled-spat until my mouth felt right. Wirt followed suit and we set about procuring our armour against the Wolfies.
    Wirt laid the plantlets on some giant leaves that he plucked from the undergrowth, and wrapped them up tight. Folding them so neat and cleverly that they did not require a binding to keep them from falling out. I stood and watched his dexterous manoeuvres and became aware of a warmth growing inside my gut, that wasn’t all that displeasing.
    “Amongst this magic plant, we can abide and have ourselves a sitting down,” Wirt said.
    “Most rightly, for I have a belly ache for lack of something good.”
    I kneeled and fumbled in my Synthbag for a pack of Soylygrub and some water. I pulled out one of my faves, Soymadras, and turned back to Wirt. He was nowhere to be seen.
    “Wirt!” I yelled. No response. “Wirt!”
    A sudden sickly feel crept up my spine. I dropped the food and ventured toward the woodier parts and called his name again. No answer. My breath came out quick and hot. I thought I heard a low growl somewhere near. I backed off and the noise became louder. I strained my eyeballs searching for signs of animal, but saw nowt except for tree.
    The sound again.
    It was close. So close that I thought it must be an invisible creature. Like they used to have back in the oldie days when NotSoGreatBritAlbion was called the Youkay. When the sea was not dead, when creatures called squids abided there. They could change their colour to suit their environment using tinted liquid filled sacs inside their skin. When they squeezed their muscles, the cells grew bigger and the pigment spread out making them quite lost to sight. My class learning memories ended when something touched my shoulder. I spun round, fists at the ready. Wirt ducked just in time, for I sent forth a mighty left hook jab.
    “Calmly Adara,” he said.
    “You are safe?”
    “That I am. Why ask?”
    “Did you not hear the snarling creature?”  
    “I