Time to focus on something else. "I think I can go longer. I'd like to keep trying." If being still would make her stronger, more focused, and more capable of finding a way out and rescuing those kids, she'd master it, no matter how hard.
"I know you're anxious to progress in this, but right now I want to teach you something new. Meditate again, only this time, instead of focusing inward, I want you to focus outward."
Lucy closed her eyes again, but didn't know how to start. "What do you mean?"
"Pick out each sound. Identify what each is. Become one with all that is around you. Let it become a part of you."
She smiled. This would be way easier than trying to still all her thoughts.
She centered her breath and relaxed her body, then allowed her mind to sense the world around her. A slight buzzing, soft at first, became louder the more she focused on it. Probably a firefly. She followed the sound as it flew through a world that must seem far different than what Lucy experienced.
Footsteps pulled her from the buzz. Hunter or Luke? She listened more deeply. It was Luke. A soft scuffle accompanied each step. His limp sounded different than Hunter's walk.
The more attention she paid to the sounds around her, the more they exploded into her consciousness. The sway and crackling of Mr. K's branches, the scurry of tiny bugs under the rocks, the sound of the waterfall in the distance—the world felt smaller and bigger, louder and quieter. Impossible to explain, but so alive and present.
"Good." Mr. K's brown, bark-like eyes looked straight into her. "Excellent. Do you feel the difference when you open up?"
She nodded. "Yes, but I don't know how to describe it."
"It's about expansion verses contraction. You, and quite honestly most humans, spend all of your time contracted. Like a roly-poly bug or a snail stuck in its shell, you crawl into yourself and shut yourself off from the world. From that vantage point, everything looks isolated and big and scary, and you think you have to defend yourself. But, when you expand, you realize how connected things are. Life becomes much friendlier as you realize that you are not alone. Does that make sense?"
It did, sort of, but thinking about it made Lucy's head hurt. She understood it for moments, like glimpses into eternity, but they were fleeting. Intellectually, it eluded her.
Mr. K shook himself, and flower petals fell from his branches and onto her head. "It's not something you can use your brain to understand. You have to feel it in your body, in your soul. Only then can you learn and grow. And... only then will you succeed at your mission."
That got Lucy's attention. "At freeing the kids? Or getting out?"
"At everything, Lucy. At life."
Lucy's stomach grumbled so loud, it startled a white bird with gold-accented feathers that pecked at the rock next to her.
Mr. K shook with a deep laugh. "Looks like it's time for you to eat. One of the perks of being a tree, I receive constant nourishment through the sun and soil. No hunger pains for me."
"Yeah, I'm starving. Didn't realize how long we'd been here. Time flies when you're meditating. Ha!" Normally time seemed to stand still, so Lucy appreciated the change. "See you later!"
The branches parted as she ran toward the camp they'd set up. Mr. K had taught them how to weave the weeping willow branches into tight, basket-like huts that they lined with layers of leaves to sleep on. In the center of the camp, they'd built a fire pit, which they'd taken solemn oaths to guard carefully, lest the sparks injure Mr. K or any other plant life around them.
Luke sat by the fire pit with his foot resting on a bed of leaves, and Hunter leaned against a tree and carved a stick into a point. Several other pointy sticks lay in a pile by his feet.
"Hey, guys, I'm starving. I need food!" Lucy's pants hung loose around her hips—and she'd been petite before the start of this trip. All of her curves would disappear if she didn't get something of substance into her.
Luke offered her a small bunch of blood-red berries. "They're delicious."
Lucy shook her head. "I know. All the fruit has been exceptionally yummy. Whatever experiment created this place, it's pretty much paradise. But I need meat—thick, juicy, hot, protein-packed meat. I can't live on berries and plants. I'm not a rabbit!" She turned to Hunter, and her stomach flip-flopped—and not from the hunger. "Hey Hunter, want to hunt?"
"Haha. Yeah, I've never heard that one before. But, to answer your not even remotely witty question—yes, I'd love to."
She pointed to his stack of wood. "That for hunting?"
He shrugged. "Hunting. Weapons. Whatever we need."
"Cool. I'll stick to my knife and gun this time, but good to have a backup. My bullets won't last forever."