There is nothing outside the forest. Part 1 of 2

This is a story I started in 2014 and have continued.
The last part is on the link

http://postromanticnightmares.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/of-drums-grew-ever-louder-and-land-rose.html

PART 2

  At first, I found the Great Lake beautiful. The huge open space, the flocks of ducks, the strange fish, the cool wind, the way the water changed its colour from rock gray to a bright blue that I had never seen before. Most of all, I liked the way that it reflected the moon and stars at night.

  But I did not like the sky above the Great Lake. I was too big, and at midday the sun was too bright. It hurt my eyes.

  That sky was like a massive burden above me, that ought to fall at any moment, and I dared not look at it.

  On the lake bank I felt exposed… like a rabbit that smells a fox and is far from home…

  We walked on the lake bank, Tomm called it The Great Lake Shore, for many days. It was too big.

  On the first night there, I lept alone in a tree while Tomm slept on his bull on the shore.

  It was lonely, and I did not feel safe knowing that there was so much open space near by. If the orc came from the trees, where would I hide?

  On the second night lay in the tree, holding my axe against my chest with both hands for comfort. It did not help. It was too lonely.

  I climbed silently down and came up to Tomm and his bull. Without waking them, I climbed and curled up next to him. The bull’s belly was warm and it was good to know Tomm was so close.

  When I woke in the dawn I found that I was holding him. He smiled, and said nothing.

  We kept walking.

  After noon on the fourth day at the Great Lake, we rounded a corner on the shore and reached the mouth of a big river. The Great Mountain loomed above us.

  It cast a shadow over both land and water.

  I had never seen anything so high, or dreamed of anything so huge.

  Pines grew atop it, everywhere but the very top, which was covered with snow. I did not know snow could exist so early in the year.

  There was a strange thing at the river mouth. A rock, cut square with writing carved in it.

  We, the People rarely write the runes. Sometimes we mark a Sleep Tree or place signs to warn of danger. But we all know hw to cut and raad the runes.

  These runes were different. We cut smoothly into wood, but these were carved- straight and jagged- into rock.

  There seemed to be three words,

  “NO FEY HERE.”

  The word “Fey” had no meaning to me, maybe I had misread the strange runes.

  “Where now, Tomm?” I asked.

  “It was your dream,” he replied.

  I wanted to escape from the open water, and I hoped that- from the great height of the mountain- I might be able to see an end to the forest.

  It was a bad idea. Unlike a tree, the further you climb up a mountain, the colder you get. The first night on the mountain was cold. I could hear the bear, and wondered if the Great Shaman was with us. The second night, despite having Tomm in my arms, was the coldest I had ever been. It was too cold, and still the mountain towered above us.

  We walked back down.