A work of fiction which highlights who the legitimate monsters of the forest are…
by: Oscar López
From the river to the clouds, and from the clouds to the mountain, the news spread that disturbed the peace of the forest inhabitants. The young rabbit, frightened, told the others that shortly after the dew fell, a huge creature with heavy movements would descend from the mountainside and sit every morning on a stone by the riverbank. The great eagle corroborated the young rabbit’s account. For several mornings, during the bird of prey’s early flights, a strange mass would appear among the rocks, bushes, and hollows of the mountain, coming down to the river’s edge. A fear took hold of the forest creatures at such a mysterious novelty and imminent danger.
Gradually, over successive mornings, each animal, driven by curiosity, approached the riverbank stealthily. There they could observe that strange creature. Sitting motionless on the stone, it gazed at the flow of the water and the movement of the fish, wrapped in the whisper of the current, as punctual as the first ray of morning sun. The disproportionate being was very large, with a sharp snout, tiny pointed ears, and a bulky body tinged with ash gray.
Day after day, the local creatures watched the monster by the river. Once the most prominent neighbors had confirmed the regularity with which that strange being frequented their domain, they deliberated on its possible intentions and what measures might be necessary in light of such events. The first to speak were the fish: “If this beast frequents the riverbank daily, it must be because it considers the waters its own. Consider, neighbors, what would become of our future if we lost the right to drink from our own waters.”
Next came the rabbit, expressing concern under common scrutiny: “Surely, a beast so colossal, with such a huge snout, must require large amounts of meat for sustenance. The danger it poses to all creatures here is clear, especially to the smallest and most defenseless.” Murmurs among those present were immediate.
Then the bear spoke: “Forest companions, my opinion is that a being as large — or larger — than myself will need so much honey for its survival that, if it stays among us much longer, it will soon consume all our provisions.” This speech drew the attention of the neighbors, especially the bees, who buzzed loudly in applause and approval.
Various objections were raised by each animal in turn regarding the mysterious being’s proximity to their homes, as well as numerous dangers they deduced for their own lives.
Once opinions were shared, the fox proposed a plan to test the validity of the collective fears. Selected animals would put the suspicions to the test.
Thus, the fish were tasked with carefully observing the creature for several mornings. Yet it never showed signs of excessive thirst nor prevented anyone from drinking as they pleased.
Then the rabbit, with its sharp vision, spied on the creature, striving to find evidence of dangerous voracity. But the gigantic giant showed no appetite, whether for grass or meat.
Finally, the bear approached, not without a certain boldness, and tossed a generous piece of honey to the creature’s paws. However, this barely distracted the massive being from watching the river’s flow.
From the initial fear the creature had inspired, a sense of astonishment began to spread. “What a strange creature that seems uninterested in everything that fascinates us!” the animals repeatedly remarked.
Over time, the morning image of our creature on the stone by the river became a familiar part of the local landscape.
At one point, a young river fish, whose vigor promised that it would grow into a strong and healthy specimen, made a daring leap over the stream in a show of strength and agility in front of its companions. So forceful was the jump that it landed in the giant’s lap. Those witnessing the event shivered in fear. No local had ever gone so far in testing the monster’s ferocity. Thus, all previous fears were reignited.
The giant then took the errant jumper in its paws…returning it gently to its watery element. It then sat again, seemingly indifferent to what had occurred.
From that event, many fish, small and large, played recklessly near the hieratic colossus, even splashing it frequently.
Soon, gatherings of animals became common near where the creature sat.
“See, with such size, and yet so little courage this intruder shows!” the bear remarked.
“Magnificent jaws for such insignificant appetite!” the rabbit replied.
These gatherings were accompanied by jokes and laughter, highlighting the contrast between the monster’s fierce appearance and its gentleness.
On one such occasion, the peacock, proudly spreading its rainbow fan, vain as a bird of paradise, dared to approach the stone figure and said, “Look how different we are. I embody beauty and splendor, while you are disproportionate, colorless, clumsy, and ungainly.” The circle of animals listening burst into laughter. The peacock continued, emphasizing the humor, “Tell me, disfigured beast, what is your worst feature? Where has the cruelty of Mother Nature struck you the most?”
Suddenly, the colossal figure broke its unperturbed stillness. It raised its head swiftly toward its interlocutor, showing agility hitherto unsuspected. Its piercing gaze met the peacock’s. From those unsettling eyes emerged a human tear, reflecting, in distorted form, the audacious and frightened bird, a tear that fell into the river, from the river to the clouds, and from the clouds to the mountain.
Oscar López Gurumeta is a Spanish writer and philosopher, holding a degree in Philosophy from the Universidad Autónoma de Madrid. He works as a teacher of Spanish and English and has published literary works in Spanish including Poamario (Terra Ignota) and Lerelandia (Círculo Rojo).
