Branchy Visions

Spark in the Forest: A vision experienced while drinking a psychedelic tea

Rain lashes through a dark forest.

A man runs, clutching a crying infant—Shrubbery. Behind him, something monstrous gives chase, silent and unnatural, turning trees black in its wake.

In a clearing, a wounded woman—her mother—waits, chest glowing faintly. She takes the child, draws a bone dagger, and cuts into herself, lightning bursting through her veins.

“Storm… soul… spark…”

She presses her bleeding hand to the baby’s chest. Energy surges.

Her body burns from within.

The man grabs the glowing infant and runs—sobbing, desperate.

A cave ahead. A den.

Eyes gleam in the dark.

A bear.

He whispers, “Forgive me,” and just before the force reaches him—he throws the baby into the cave.

Shrubbery awakens—hands crackling with lightning, her heart echoing with that final word:

“Spark…”

Then: warmth.

The glow of a fire. A massive shape looms over the child—not monstrous, but calm, strong, and alive.
A mother bear curls around the baby. Gently. Protective. She licks the child’s cheek, then lies still, her breathing slow and steady. The baby cries once… then sleeps.

Time passes.

Shrubbery sees herself again—a toddler clinging to fur, learning to fish, climbing trees, howling at the moon beside a massive bear.
They eat berries together. The bear gently pulls thorns from her foot. At night, she rests tucked beneath a great paw like a living blanket.

For a moment, it feels like love.