Stories caught Belle’s attention like no other. Especially the one she was buried in now. La Bête. It was a silly little handwritten piece her father kept in his drawer of writing from his adventures and observations into the woods that surrounded La Cachette.

La Cachette, as it was situated in a compact pocket in the woods, was an extraordinarily small village. There were only about fifteen homes with one large fence built around them to protect the people from whatever was in the woods. Four carts would bring produce from the bigger towns nearby every week and if they were not out fetching food, many of the men would explore the woods, record their finds, and return. That was the purpose of La Cachette. The settlement had been created as a way for explorers to dig deeper into the vast woods and determine where the bigger towns could expand. An adventurer’s home, Belle’s father had called it. Sometimes, he would allow her to join him on expeditions, but they were never far into the woods.

Few of father’s writings ever held anything more interesting than flora and harmless fauna. Belle would peruse them when there was nothing else to do in the quiet little place and at this point, she could likely recite the scientific names of most of the harmless plants that grew in abundance around La Cachette. However, the story of La Bête stood out. Belle had found it months ago when her father placed a bundle of new entries in his desk drawer. As the weeks passed, it would disappear and reappear with new notes scrawled in its margins and things crossed out, but the gist was the same. So much so, that it had become a tale that the villagers spoke about as they walked in the grassy clearings or went about their chores.

Every story spoke of a creature that prowled the woods, always too shadowed for people to see its full figure, with bright green eyes that looked like a cat’s in the darkness of night. They called her La Bête. According to father’s notes not much could be said for La Bête, but the other adventurers would sometimes refer to her as the Wild Woman, believing that she was a woman from one of the older settlements, like La Cachette, who ran from her home and never returned. Other adventurers thought she was a warrior from one of the tribes that had previously inhabited the woods before La Cachette was established. Either way, as Belle read the notes in her father’s writing, she could not stop drawing endless photos in her head of what La Bête could look like. When the other adventurers described La Bête, they could only picture her ferocity, painting an ugly and fearsome picture of the creature they could not understand. Belle wondered if La Bête truly was as ugly as they suggested. After all, tigers and bears were fearsome but certainly not ugly. Belle did not doubt that La Bête was beastly, but perhaps, like tigers and bears cared gently for their young, she too cared gently for something.

“Belle.” Her father stepped into the house and Belle quickly placed the writing back into the drawer.

“Hello father,” She wrung her fingers rather sheepishly. “I was just reading your notes again.”

“That I see,” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t go reading anything too adventurous in there. It might inspire you to do something dangerous.”

“What could I possibly do that’s so dangerous?” Belle waved a hand at him.

“The more you read, Belle, the more interested you are becoming in seeing these findings for yourself. The wood is far too dangerous for you.”

“You seem just fine out there yourself.” Belle retorted lightly.

 “I am an officer in the Navy.” Belle’s father crossed his arms. “And I carry my weapons with me.”

“Alright, then I’m sure with weapons I could figure my way around.” She rolled her eyes. “If you never let me go, I will never learn how to hold my own and it will always be dangerous.”

“You are not an adventurer.” He chuckled and removed his hat. “If you are craving new scenery, you can accompany one of the carts into town.”

“As if town is not exactly the same as this, only larger.” Belle scoffed, but did not press further. As Belle’s father untied his shoes and placed his coat by the door, she tied a cloak to her shoulders and donned her hat.

It was still sunny in La Cachette, and Belle closed her eyes as the warmth dripped onto her skin. She could hear some ladies outside working on their sewing patterns while chatting, but the village was mostly quiet. Many of the men who went out with Belle’s father had likely returned. The sun was going to set soon, and no one wanted to be caught in the woods at night. On bright days like this one, Belle would normally bake dessert with any leftover fruit and distribute it to the other ladies in town but today she had gotten too lost in her father’s notes to even check whether there were any ingredients in the cupboard.

She walked in a small circle around a cluster of houses, waving to anyone outside. The fence surrounding the village had not been closed just yet, and Belle could see where the dirt trail seemed to disappear in the density of the trees. From where she stood, it almost looked like a tunnel leading to nowhere. It might as well have been, as Belle was not even sure there was another side to the passageway. She peered over the fence as she neared it, craning her neck to try and get a better view of what she was looking at. When she had explored the less dense parts of the woods, the group would always circle the edge of the forest. When Belle’s father went out as the sun rose, he would take this path straight into what looked like could lead to the center of the woods. Glancing around the village, it seemed as though many of the families were starting to retire into their homes. The gate would close soon, but not for another hour or two. Belle stepped carefully onto the dirt trail that began just inside the village, following it forward.

The outskirts of the forest that Belle had explored had been dappled with light even late into the afternoon. The sounds of birds were sparse, and everything was visible at eye-level. For the first few feet, the forest felt familiar to Belle in the same way. Except this time, she was not weaving in and out of bushes looking at plants or drawing squirrels that paused in the branches of their trees. As she imagined her father did, Belle pushed further into the forest, focusing only on what little she could see in the dark, tunnel-like corridor of trees.

With each step Belle took, the darkness became clearer. She could faintly see the outline of leaves all the way at the top canopy of the forest. The forest floor gradually filled with lush greenery. Belle ran her fingers over fern fronds bigger than she had ever seen before. Everything changed from a grassy hue to a deep emerald and the sounds of birds chirping became far more frequent, along with the warbling of animals scaling the forest from the base of each tree trunk to the tips of its branches.

A loud chitter stopped Belle in her tracks. She looked behind her and was met with the curious glare of a squirrel larger than she had ever seen in her life. It was covered in a red coat that sported flecks of black and a vibrant yellow underbelly that almost made the rest of the squirrel look purple.

“Aren’t you curious?” She tilted her head. The squirrel chattered urgently in response and bounded up a tree. Belle did not remember how long she had been walking, but now that she could look back the way she came, there was no sign of the village or the fence. Belle stared down a dark tunnel in both directions. She shrugged. It must still be quite light out, and all she had to do to get back was walk the way she came. After all, Belle had only been following the trail into the forest which did not curve. It could not have been long since she entered the dense part of the forest, but the light dwindled severely, unable to get through the layers of leaves that protected the forest floor.

She continued down the trail, marveling at how colorful the flowers bloomed in this part of the forest despite what seemed like a lack of light. The dappled sun rays that shone through the forest canopy were reflected on each petal of the flowers, lighting the path with colors of orange, pink, blue, and purple. Honeysuckle bushes were scattered between the ferns, and Belle let out an excited squeal, plucking one of the flowers and putting it to her lips. She was lost in the lushness that characterized the forest. It was a stark contrast to La Cachette and the more manicured town that she was often confined to. Her father’s notes did not begin to capture the beauty of this part of the forest. Did he even step through here slowly enough to notice? She had never seen mention of such giant flora. For that matter, she had never seen a single drawing of the strange flowers that seemed to reflect the sunlight on the forest floor. Maybe her drawing skills could be of some use on her father’s expeditions. That would certainly give her more of an excuse to wander through the peace of this place.

Belle reached a small clearing with stones scattered in a vague circle on the ground. The canopy opened to reveal dim light, and Belle could faintly see the sky. It looked rather dark. In fact, it looked as though the sun had been setting for quite a while now. She gasped, spinning back to where she had entered the clearing. It was past the time to start back. Belle could only hope that no one had closed the village gate yet. Her eyes searched for the trail which marked where she entered, but the dense circle of trees looked like just that – a dense circle of trees. There was no sign that Belle had even stepped through them to get to where she now stood. As the sky quickly grew darker, the rustling of tree leaves became more ominous than calming.

She crossed her arms around herself, shivering lightly and seating herself on a rock. She could not step back into the forest, lest she get lost. Despite her memories of her father’s notes, she did not know what kind of animals might be roaming the woods at night, and she suspected that many of them would be looking for their next meal. Her father would surely notice she was gone by dinnertime. Belle suspected by the time he would be able to look, the gate would be closed, and the adventurers would find it far too dangerous to go out. The forest floor was no longer dappled with light but grew almost blue in the darkness. Belle strained her eyes to be able to look around her. Perhaps she could make a fire to keep whatever came looking in this clearing away. The smoke would alert the villagers too. If they were even looking for her, that is.

Belle had watched her father create fires in the winter with flint and his pocketknife, but she had neither of those things. She rubbed her hands together. It was not so cold as to need a fire, but it was surely best to have one. She trotted to the edges of the clearing, grabbing small and large twigs and branches which were surprisingly dry. She gathered two armfuls of dry kindling, which she arranged into a nest a few feet away from the rock she had sat on minutes ago. Finding a sizeable notch in one of the smaller sticks she had gathered, she placed it on top of the tinder pile and twisted another stick into the notch, furiously twisting for a spark.

“Please, Please…” She muttered fervently under her breath. If there was one thing that would get her through a dark night, it was the smallest semblance of light. After a few minutes, Belle’s hands began to hurt from the friction between them and her upper arms began to tire slightly, but she only leaned in, urging the spark out of the two sticks.

After what felt like an hour, the wood began to smoke, and Belle blew gently until it caught onto some of the other sticks she had gathered. As the fire began to show itself and turn orange, she laid a few more small branches on top of it, breathing a sigh of relief. At this point, the sun had finally set, and Belle realized she had been walking for a much longer time than she had initially thought. If there was a chance that someone was looking for her, it was highly unlikely now. The stars peeked out of the clouds. Belle could spot a few faint twinkles from the lack of canopy in the clearing. All she had to do now was not run out of fuel for her fire.

***

Belle drifted in and out of slumber. As the fire grew, she felt just a little bit safer, but did not want to risk falling asleep should something stumble upon her in the night. The sounds in the forest became louder than they were in the day – more urgent. The birds that called in the nighttime would raise their voices when something stalked across the forest floor. After a few minutes, Belle learned to listen to the volume of their calls in case something came her way.

She did not know what hour it was. Would her father be in bed now? She could not imagine him laying down to sleep if she had gone missing in such a manner. If he was looking for her, the fire created a surprising amount of smoke that wafted toward the sky in a light column. Belle was not too far into the forest that they would miss such a sign… at least, she hoped she wasn’t.

The night birds’ calling became more anxious towards the left of the clearing. Belle sat up, scooting closer to the fire, and facing the direction of the calls. She had no protection, but should she need it, the fire could serve as protection enough. Curling up with her back pressed against the rock she had chosen to take shelter by and pulling her knees to her chest, she bore into the darkness of the forest with her eyes, willing something to come through. The birds’ calls became even louder than before, shaking Belle awake. The trees rustled even though Belle did not feel a breeze come through the forest. Her eyes were still bleary, but she forced them open to scan the left side of the clearing in more detail. From the corner of her vision, she could have sworn she saw a vague silhouette whip along the tree line. This time, she heard a loud rustling to her right. She moved so close to the fire the heat almost burned her arm. A growl sounded from the trees, and she finally spotted what looked like a human silhouette. The growl, however, was anything but human.

“Hello?” Belle called. The figure stopped in the darkness of the trees and all Belle could clearly see was two enormous green eyes.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Belle.” She answered with her best attempt to keep a quiver out of her voice. Whatever this thing was, it could speak to her. She was certain it could reason as a result. “I live in the village just outside this forest.”

“My forest.”

Belle realized that the figure had the voice of a woman along with its more beastly growl.

“Your forest?” Belle leaned in the direction of the figure without moving further from the fire. “How is this your forest?”

“It has been my forest for years.” Another growl. “Until the likes of your people began encroaching it and now it becomes smaller.”

“We’re trying to find a place to live.” Belle answered. “And there’s barely enough space in the towns.”

“There were already people living in my forest. I knew them and we shared forefathers. Your kind has chased them out.”

Belle could not comprehend what this woman could be speaking of. Her father did not drive people out, he simply wrote down his findings to share with the soldiers and governors in town.

“Who exactly are you?” Belle called. The woman was silent. “Do you have a family?”

The woman stepped slightly forward, so the light of Belle’s fire flickered briefly over her. Belle attempted to keep the shock from her face.

The woman’s gruff voice was reflected in her appearance. Her body was lean, but more muscular than any person Belle had seen. It was covered by a cloth that looked like what her father had described the native people in the woods to wear. The cloth was draped loosely around the woman but looked rather sturdy. Her hair shone in the firelight, long and dark. Belle could not quite see her face. Her hands were clawed and curved inward like a paw. She looked like an artist’s imagination of a wild tiger that had turned human.

“Do you have a name?” Belle asked softly. The woman shook her head. “La Bête.” Belle muttered quietly. With the intensity that this woman’s green eyes shone in the dark, Belle could not imagine she could have been anything else.

“What are you doing in my forest?” La Bête growled again. Belle leaned backwards but could not tear her eyes away from the woman.

“I… I suppose I got lost.” The quiver in Belle’s voice betrayed her. La Bête’s demeanor seemed to soften, but Belle was unsure whether she was just imagining it. The darker the sky became, the more obscured La Bête was by the forest shadows. At this point, Belle could barely see her. “I can leave as soon as it’s light out. Please, let me stay a little longer.”

“If you stay, someone will come looking for you. Many will. Your kind already trample my forest. I cannot have them coming even deeper.”

Belle shivered at the anger that seeped through La Bête’s voice. There was something else, too. La Bête’s voice did not quiver like Belle’s did, but its tone raised almost imperceptibly. It was as though La Bête was afraid of La Cachette’s adventurers wandering deeper into her forest.

“If I die here trying to find my way back then they will certainly trample your forest. Let me return safely and perhaps I can see to it that the villagers leave you alone.”

“You are lying. You cannot see to it. I smell your uncertainty.”

“I can. They will trust me and there is a better chance they will leave you alone this way. If you kill me, they will come through your forest.”

Belle waited for an answer, peering through the darkness that illuminated the shadow of La Bête in the trees. She was met with only silence. After a moment, she realized that the silhouette of La Bête no longer stood in the tree line. The beast had disappeared even more silently than she had come.

***

At some point during the sunrise, Belle had fallen asleep. She woke to the bright chattering of the forest in the daylight once again, as though the night had never happened. The fire had died when she stopped placing kindling in it. Belle stood, dusting herself off and looking around. She had to find her way back now. In the morning light, she must be able to find the trail that led her here. Strangely enough, it did not take much searching as the opening from which she entered the clearing was as visible as the day itself. Belle frowned. How could she have missed this yesterday?

This time, Belle trudged back down the trail with bleary eyes. She recognized the honeysuckle she had plucked the day prior, and she followed the fern fronds as they grew smaller until she reached La Cachette’s gate. With a heavy sigh, she stepped inside. The gate had been open, despite it being far too early in the morning. None of the adventurers would have left yet. 

“Belle? Belle!” As though she were waking from a dream, Belle heard her father’s frantic voice as he and a slew of soldiers burst out of a shallow bunch of trees by the clearing. Their dark green uniforms had the town seal on them – Belle suspected her father must have called them in the night to search the forest. From their weary eyes, they had been awake for a while, but did not look like they had gotten far into their search.

“Father!” Belle ran to hug her father at the front of the crowd. Her skin and clothes were stained with soot from sleeping so close to the fire she had made.

“What on earth were you doing in the woods, girl?!” Belle’s father held her by her shoulders, glancing up and down to make sure she was not hurt. “All night, at that! We have been looking since you did not come back for dinner!”

“I just went on a walk,” Belle gestured to their entrance into the clearing. “I don’t know what happened… I could not find the trail even though I only walked in a straight line.”

Belle’s father still looked puzzled but hugged his daughter again.

“Father,” Belle gasped, suddenly remembering the previous night. With the stark contrast between the forest’s day and night, La Bête felt like a dream, but every time Belle thought back to the shadowed growls in the forest clearing, she could feel the shivers crawl up her arms. “I saw her.”

“Who?” Belle’s father searched her eyes. “Who did you see?”

“La Bête.”

Now, the village had gathered around the group, all leaning over to make sure Belle was alright. When she mentioned the beast, silence fell on the group.

“What is the meaning of this?” Belle’s father furrowed his eyebrows.

“I saw La Bête in the night!” Belle exclaimed. “In the trees.”

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

“Well, I went into the forest, and I followed the trail, you see, but I reached a clearing and all of a sudden La Bête found me in the night!” Belle babbled. “And there was no way back because I could not find the way I came until the morning even though it had been clear as day!”

Belle’s father gazed at her in silence.

“You say the trail disappeared before La Bête found you?”

“Yes, almost like the forest did not want me to leave, but that is quite silly as trees do not have minds of their own.” Belle corrected herself. Her father’s gaze searched her carefully, then hardened.

“What does this beast mean to do by trapping you like this?”

“Oh no, I do not think it was her, Father! She simply asked that we no longer trample in her forest…”

“Ah so the beast is trying to scare us away?” He crossed his arms.  “She has failed, for we have an army.”

“No, father!” Belle grabbed his arm. “This is certainly not what she wants!”

“This is not about what she wants! To lure away one of our own and threaten us is unforgivable!” Belle’s father turned to the soldiers. “And we cannot let some beast walk all over our people!”

“You can’t!” Belle pleaded. “She only lives in the forest! she did not do me any harm!” The men paid her no mind. Their bloodthirsty cheers echoed through the forest, as though all they had been waiting for was a reason to appease their violent thirst for the head of La Bête.

Belle ran after her father as he followed the soldiers back the way she had come.

It was a much longer distance to the clearing than Belle had remembered, and the soldiers were chanting and taunting the forest, goading La Bête to show herself to the platoon if she was brave. Belle pleaded with her father, who only looked ahead, not even acknowledging any of Belle’s implorations.

The party burst into the forest clearing that Belle had just returned from. La Bête was already there, waiting in the broad daylight for the people that had come for her.

With Belle’s only reference being a silhouette in the shadows and her father’s notes, La Bête was not at all what Belle expected. A lioness stood in her presence. Perhaps not literally, because the lioness took the shape of a person. Where Belle’s skin was fair and flushed, La Bête’s was deep, shining, and golden, as though it had only ever seen the sun. La Bête did not smile, and it seemed as though the crowd was rather afraid at the thought of seeing such a

thing. Belle remembered the hesitant whisperings claiming La Bête was not a woman, but a beast. As the subject of the whispers stood at the apex of the hill, mighty and terrifying, Belle wondered whether La Bête could be a woman in the guise of a beast or a beast in the guise of a woman. Then, La Bête smiled.

It appeared rather clumsy at first, and her teeth reminded Belle of sabertoothed tigers in drawings her father kept from news clippings. They were teeth made for tearing, with canines that appeared significantly longer than the other pointed incisors. La Bête’s long, dark hair turned into a mane as her eyes narrowed, pleased at the shocked gasps that ensued. The men at the front of the crowd of soldiers lowered their bayonets and pressed forward. Someone’s hands hung onto Belle’s coat as she tried to move forward. The pointed tips of each man’s weapon gradually neared La Bête and she let out a laugh, like a roar, suddenly swiping at the first line of bayonets. The soldiers flinched as a deathly scream filled the air and one of their own fell at the beast’s feat. La Bête clutched the decapitated spoil in her hand.

“Turn and leave.” La Bête hissed.

“You take one of our own,” Belle’s father called back, shoving himself to the front of the crowd, “And expect peace?!”

“She didn’t!” Belle cried, throwing herself at her father’s arm. “You must listen!” As Belle pleaded for her father’s acknowledgement, she realized that perhaps La Bête’s gentleness was reserved for the forest she so diligently inhabited. The grass and the trees seemed to lean towards La Bête as she stood a warrior’s stance, blood now spattered on the cloth draped over

her. The birds cawed loudly on the side of the soldiers, but as La Bête squared herself towards the platoon, everything behind her was silent. Waiting.

“I told you.” La Bête flung the head into the trees and addressed Belle. “You cannot convince them. I should have left you to die.”

The words stung Belle’s chest, but perhaps La Bête was right. What good was her safety if La Bête and the forest still suffered the attack of the town soldiers?

“See?” Belle’s father final turned to look at her. “The beast does not intend for your safety. You have only angered it more.”

“No…” Belle trailed off, her breath running out. “You have brought this upon us.” She all but hissed at her father.

The soldiers marched their bayonets to the middle of the clearing and La Bête glanced at the disembodied head now on the opposite side of the clearing with a strange combination of pride and disdain, crouching towards the ground. She snarled. Her hands were curled and weaponless, nails pointing toward the ground so it looked as though she would leap on her claws at any minute. The men seemed to pause in unison in the face of her bared teeth.

“Onward, bastards!” Belle’s father called from the back of the line, his horse pacing nervously as he attempted to urge it forward. The bayonets continued their advance hesitantly.

La Bête now laughed, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. The speared tips of the bayonets were less than a foot from her exposed body.            

“Now!”

La Bête leapt.