Juno stretched as she woke up, her arms reaching high above her head, fingers curling and uncurling slowly, letting the tension from sleep drip out of her muscles as she let out a long, satisfied yawn. The sunlight was spilling through the small curtains of her two-bedroom cabin, cutting across the wooden floorboards in warm, golden slices that made dust motes dance lazily in the air, and for a moment she just lay there, letting herself enjoy the slow awakening, the calm quiet of the morning, the way the birds outside chirped as though they were the first and only sounds in the world.
Every day had felt fantastic since she had moved here, to this little town tucked deep into the boonies where the road ended and the forest began, where the trees were so thick and alive that sometimes it almost felt like they were watching her, though in a good way, like the quiet guardians of a place she was finally allowed to belong. The people in the town were nice enough, she supposed; polite and friendly when they saw her, though she mostly kept to herself, smiling and nodding and returning the courtesy. But it was the nature she loved most, the way the wind moved through the pines, the way the sunlight hit the moss on the forest floor in early morning, the way the smell of the air changed after a night of rain. It was invigorating, comforting, and sometimes even breathtaking if she paid attention long enough to catch herself actually noticing.
Her work, thankfully, didn’t tie her down. She had structured it cleverly enough that she could spend three days at her desk, knocking out a week’s worth of tasks in those three long, focused days, and then let herself drift free for the next four days to do whatever she wanted. Sometimes she would go into town for supplies or to visit the tiny café she liked, but mostly she wandered the forest, letting the trail under her boots decide her day, letting her legs carry her to wherever she felt like going.
Juno rolled out of bed at last, stretching again as she swung her legs over the edge and planted her feet firmly on the wooden floor. She walked slowly to the small bathroom, letting the cold tiles wake her properly, then went about her morning routine in the cabin. She moved lazily between the kitchenette and the small desk where her laptop sat waiting, made coffee while humming softly to herself, tidied a few things, brushed her hair out so it fell in loose waves down her back, and paused in front of the window for a long moment to look out over the forest beyond the clearing where her cabin sat. It was quiet here, except for the birds and the occasional scurrying of small animals through the underbrush, and she let herself enjoy that quiet, sipping at her coffee, feeling the warmth spread through her chest and down into her stomach.
After a while, when she felt awake enough, she decided she would go for a short hike. Maybe she would take one of the other trails this time, the ones she hadn’t explored yet, just to see where they went, just to see what she might find. Eventually she would make her way to the camping spot she liked, but that required a trip into town first for supplies, and she didn’t want to be gone too long today, only long enough to get her blood pumping, to feel her legs burn just a little, to hear her heart thrum against her ribs as she moved through the trees.
She packed her backpack carefully, double-checking that she had everything she might need: water bottles, a small selection of snacks, a first aid kit, a notebook, a pen, a flashlight tucked into a side pocket just in case, and her little collection of odds and ends she carried out with her whenever she went hiking, things that felt important only to her, things she could not quite explain.
Then she opened the door and froze, noticing something that had not been there before. A rock. Just sitting there, right on the doorstep, as if it had decided to appear while she was inside and wait patiently for her to notice.
Juno crouched slightly to pick it up, turning it in her hands carefully, letting the sunlight glint off its surfaces at odd angles. It was pretty, she realized slowly, catching reflections that danced and split across the facets of the rock in ways she hadn’t expected. There were tiny cracks and imperfections in it, little scars from its time being shaped by the world.
“Where did you come from?” she murmured softly to herself, letting her voice echo just faintly against the walls of the cabin and the trees outside. It made no sound in reply, of course, and yet she didn’t feel disappointed. Sometimes the world simply left things like this, little unexpected gifts, and that was enough.
She placed the rock carefully on the shelf where all the other interesting stones and pebbles she had collected rested. Each one had a story, even if she had made the story herself, and now this one had joined the collection, another small mystery she could enjoy later.
Finally, with the rock safely added to her tiny indoor trove of curiosities, Juno locked the door behind her and slung her backpack over her shoulder. She took a deep breath, smelling the forest air mixed with the faint lingering aroma of her coffee, and set off toward the trail, her boots crunching softly over the gravel and leaves, her heart lifting with the simple joy of walking into the forest again, the beginning of a new day stretching endlessly before her in bright, green, fragrant promise.
When Juno finally reached the trail, which ran a couple of kilometres from her small cabin and snaked lazily through the thick trees and occasional clearings, she paused for a moment and dug her earbuds out of her backpack, fumbling slightly with the cords as she plugged them in and scrolled through her playlists. Her fingers lingered over the options for a few beats before settling on some country rock. She clicked play, and the warm, distorted guitar riffs filled her ears, carrying her along with the rhythm as she started to move down the trail.
One of the best things about this place, she thought as she adjusted the straps of her backpack, was that barely anyone ever came here. Occasionally, there were campers who set up tents in small clearings and left faint smoke trails curling into the sky, or sometimes a few of the townsfolk would wander the trail for a quiet walk, but most of the time it was hers entirely. Quiet, serene, and occasionally, yes, maybe a little lonely if she thought about it too hard, but she had friends. She could meet up with someone. Maybe Sarah from her favorite café wouldn’t mind coming along on a walk or a hike someday. Juno’s chest lifted a little at the thought. She was pretty sure she had seen Sarah noticing her too, maybe a smile here or there, maybe something a little more than just casual friendliness. Or maybe her gaydar was out of alignment and Sarah was just that good at the ‘hospitality mindset’. Worth a try though!
Juno chuckled quietly to herself, shaking her head at the thought. The dry spell, perhaps, she mused, was starting to get to her imagination, conjuring little daydreams of someone noticing her in the forest like she noticed them.
Her lips curled into a grin, and before she even realized it, she had begun to hum softly along with the song, letting her voice follow the melody as she walked, swaying slightly with the rhythm of her feet on the dirt path.
“Run in the shaadooowwss, damn your love, damn your lies,” she sang, her voice carried softly on the summer air, blending with the rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds.
She hummed again for a moment, letting the words slip past her lips almost without thought.
“And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again.”
A sudden snap somewhere in the woods made her start slightly, her head flicking in the direction of the sound, eyes scanning between the trees, but there was nothing there, only the familiar sway of branches and the occasional flutter of a bird taking flight. Probably nothing. A deer maybe, she thought, or perhaps just a fallen branch.
“You would never break the chain. Never break the chain!” she continued, a little louder this time, letting the melody lift her spirits and echo in the quiet forest, carrying her voice far past the trail and into the deeper trees.
It was a great day for a walk. Really, she thought, it was perfect. Sunlight dappled the ground in warm patterns, the air smelled faintly of pine and earth, and the trail seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions, offering the promise of a long, carefree morning.
“I can still hear you sayin’, you would never break the chain, never break the chain!” she added, laughing softly to herself, fully aware that there was no one around to hear her terrible singing. Not that it was terrible, really. She wasn’t tone-deaf, she reminded herself, though she could admit there was definitely room for improvement.
Perhaps later, when she returned home, she would drive into town and pick up a bottle of the cheap wine she always had tucked away in the cupboard, the kind she never really stopped drinking, and maybe some sausages to throw on the grill, letting the smell drift across the clearing outside her cabin while she sat back and listened to the forest settle in for the evening.
She had another two days before she truly needed to worry about work again, another couple of days of freedom to wander, explore, and lose herself in the forest or the small town she now called home.
A sudden movement caught her attention in her peripheral vision. Her head swiveled slightly toward it, eyes narrowing just enough to catch the motion, but again there was nothing. The shadows of the trees moved, the wind shifted a branch, and for a second she thought it might have been a deer. There were plenty down here, especially this time of year, fat and slow from the summer heat, grazing quietly in small clearings, and sometimes darting away with hooves that barely whispered across the undergrowth.
Juno shrugged slightly and continued walking, dismissing the odd noises and movements as normal forest things. Strange, unusual creatures that might live here in New Zealand were unlikely, she reasoned. Most of the cryptids she had ever read about lived in the water or deep down south in places humans rarely ventured. The Moehau lived far enough away to be mostly left alone, aggressive and dangerous enough that no casual hiker would dare approach. Surely, there was nothing lurking here that would trouble her.
By the time her playlist ran its course, fading into soft silence, she realized it was time to turn back. She retraced her steps along the trail, letting the music fade from her mind but leaving a faint rhythm in her head as she made her way back toward her cabin, enjoying the slow warmth of the sun on her back and the soft, comforting sounds of the forest around her.
Back at home, she took a quick shower, letting the water run over her and wash away the sweat and dust from her hike, leaving her feeling refreshed, her hair damp and clinging slightly to her neck as she towelled off. Afterward, she decided it was time to go into town for a few things, driving her small ute down the quiet, winding roads toward the center of Buntoun, a town of only a few thousand people, far smaller than Tasman, where she had grown up. Still, there was enough to meet her needs: a supermarket, a mechanic, a bank, and a handful of cafés where she could waste time with a cup of coffee while she watched the few townsfolk amble past.
When she arrived at the supermarket parking lot, the place was busier than usual for a Friday afternoon, and it took her a moment to find a space where she could safely park her ute. After circling slowly, she finally slid it into a spot near the front entrance, grabbing her backpack and locking the doors behind her before heading inside.
A short time later, after she had finished her errands in town and driven back along the narrow, winding road that cut through the forest toward her cabin, Juno pulled up in front of her place and shut off the engine, letting the sudden quiet settle around her. The afternoon sun filtered lazily through the trees, casting long slanting beams of light across the clearing and making the air shimmer faintly with heat. For a moment everything looked exactly the same as when she had left earlier.
Then she noticed something that absolutely had not been there before.
Sitting right in the middle of her doorstep was a large chunk of mānuka bark. It looked fresh too, the edges still pale where it had been torn away from the tree, and even from where she stood she could smell it. The scent was sharp and earthy and unmistakable, the sort of fragrant smell she had learned to recognize pretty quickly since moving out here. There was no way she could mistake it.
She stepped over the bark carefully, giving it a puzzled glance as she unlocked the door and carried her groceries inside. The bags rustled softly as she set them down on the counter and began putting things away, but the whole time her mind kept drifting back to that piece of bark sitting out on the step like it had been deliberately placed there.
Once everything was sorted she stepped back outside again and planted her hands on her hips, staring down at it.
The rock from earlier could have been some random coincidence, she supposed. Maybe it had rolled there somehow or been kicked onto the step without her noticing. But this? This was a different story entirely. The bark was far too big and heavy for any small animal to have dragged up here, and she would notice a large native tree covering her door that fell in the half hour she was gone.
That meant someone must have brought it.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she slowly lifted her gaze and scanned the edge of the treeline surrounding her clearing. The woods stood quiet and still, branches swaying lazily in the warm breeze, but that didn’t mean much. Someone could easily be hiding out there, watching.
A familiar, unpleasant thought crept into her mind.
Was she being stalked again?
The idea made her jaw tighten immediately. She really did not want to deal with that sort of nonsense a second time. The last time had ended badly enough as it was. She still remembered the police station, the long explanations, the uncomfortable silence in the courtroom while people politely avoided looking at her, followed by a jaunt in jail.
Worst three months of her life, easily.
And honestly, that guy had deserved every single punch.
Juno rubbed the back of her neck and let out a slow breath. “Let’s not jump straight to that,” she muttered to herself, though the thought still lingered uncomfortably in the back of her mind.
Still frowning, she bent down and grabbed the chunk of bark with both hands. It was rough and flaky against her palms, bits of dry outer layers crumbling slightly as she lifted it. Whoever had brought it here had not exactly been gentle with it.
She carried it around to the back of the cabin and tossed it onto the small pile of wood scraps she kept there for kindling and fire starters. The bark landed with a dull thud and settled into the pile.
As she dusted her hands off, she glanced around her property again, taking a little more time this round to look between the trees.
Maybe she really should install some cameras around the place. Nothing too fancy, just a few small ones pointed toward the driveway and the front door. Living alone out here had always felt peaceful and safe to her, but there was nothing wrong with being careful. She had heard enough stories to know that things could go sideways fast if the wrong person decided to make trouble.
Still, she refused to let the possibility ruin the rest of her day. For all she knew it really was just some harmless prank. The local teenagers sometimes wandered through the woods around her property when they were bored, and she had never made a fuss about it as long as they stayed out of her way. It wouldn’t be the first time bored kids had decided to leave something weird on someone’s porch for a laugh.
Yeah, that was probably all it was.
With that comforting thought in mind, Juno headed back inside and grabbed the pack of sausages from the counter along with a few other things she planned to throw on the grill. If someone really had been trying to creep her out, she wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of hiding indoors all evening.
Besides, the weather was too good to waste, and she was already looking forward to sitting outside with a drink while the sausages cooked and the sun slowly dipped down behind the trees.