Lions Head In The Well
A slight bit of history and a whole lot of fun, join Pinny on her journey of unexpected encounters
The forest of voices
Pinny folded her skirt and climbed over the toppled tree. The green lichen dusted her hand, she brought her palms together and brushed them off. Along the ground of the lost forest, next to her feet and to the side, was a line of winterstone flies carrying dried leaves above their little bodies. Not wanting to step on them under the weight of her feet, she kept in the middle and walked ahead.
As the gentle breeze move the leaves, woody vines encircled the trees and Pinny wondered what power might unravel them. But The vines around the trees disentangled itself, then twisting and turning along the ground to follow her.
The moving vine
It raised her skirt and she attempted to pulverise it with her thoughts, but it retreated and attached itself around the tree as if the life it once had, went away with the power of audacity.
Liana was known as the outcast vines, wood could not be taken from it, neither could a peg be made from it to hang vessels on. It’s likely end would be to be thrown into a fire for fuel.
'This must be why grandma told me not to wear skirts whenever I go to the forest',
Pinny spoke aloud and shook her head
The talking stonefly
One of the winter stoneflies mounted onto a leaf and spoke to her.
‘Don’t mind the vines I tell you. I am not one to bite, but nettles won’t mind giving you a bit of a sting.’
‘And what might I call you then?’
‘Long body, will do me fine’
‘Long body, aren’t those your friends leaving?
‘My home is just there around the corner, the big pond. So don’t mind them, they are just a bit…eager.’
Before Pinny could reply, the stonefly had flown away. It wasn't too long before a road split the trail in half and she had to cross the stop light. She jumped when she heard the car beeped behind her. Then a moment later as she took in the sight of the dry orange leaves:
The pond
‘Ta-ra!’
A man came from where she was headed, with a slight raise of his hand and a small smile.
Pinny raised her hand and muttered something that could be taken as a response.
She turned right and came across a big pond, at this point her hands were hurting. Coldness biting her flesh, stinging her fingertips. And her feet, they were planted at the entrance pointing towards the opening to the pond, and tied with blue laces.
The capillary waves came towards her, far enough for her to feel it's nearness, before they fade away as though they could only come that far. Dead vegetation, floating above the surface only moving by the power of the wavelets coming in. And beyond, were… well:
'That poor girl,' said mini, a goldeneye duck.
'Whats so poor about her, don’t she have clothes on?', replied Janet.
' Janet, you know that's not what I meant. Look at her, she's rubbing her poor hands together for some heat', said mini with empathy encasing her words.
'Alrighty, I’ve got a bath to take.' Janet said with indifference.
She dipped under the water then came up, only to swim away from mini, mini went over to her other friends and Janet was all alone, but she didn’t seem to mind.
'I wish I could knit her a pair of gloves with my feathers.' Mini said off in the distance.
Bird calls
Caw!
Caw!
Eh!
Eh!
Eh!
Under the open sky and through the wind, nature collected calls from the birds, as they flew in.
Pinny then took a wide step over the orange coloured puddle, she met a group of cattle’s behind a gate.
Cattle chatter
'This itch isn't going to scratch itself,’
One said, rubbing up against a tree.
'Mom, stay still please, I need milk'
Said a small voice.
'Has anyone seen Paul?'
An old cattle enquired, coughing in between its words.
'Not again, Paul's been dead for a while now paps, let it go'
Another cow guffawed, but it wasn't looking where it was going, so it head butted a tree and held it's head down in shame.
Paul was taken away for his meat, and poor old cow had not gotten over it.
*
The throat clearing tree
After tackling a walk in the mud and being bogged down in it. Pinny turned yet another corner. It felt like no one had walked this path before. The leaves and branches, they met overhead; and the darkness crept in but seem to sit ahead of her down that way. She could still hear the cattle talk amongst themselves, but what laid ahead—pinny would find deeply annoying.
She came upon the tree that clears its throat.
‘Ahem!!’
'Grow a pair of eyes why don't you',
Pinny was growing tired and hungry, and she wasn’t sure if this tree would vanish or stay put. It wasn’t clear at all what tree this was, and to bear fruit at this time of year was not possible. But a pair of woody hands reached over and handed her an apple. What it could not do however, was walk.
‘Is that it? How am I meant to be filled with juice and skin?’
‘Now now, little lemon-‘
‘I am a lady, I don’t think ladies are called little lemon’
‘A bit miserable aren’t we?’
‘A little’
Pinny began to laugh uncontrollably when she saw its nose appeared to be leaking.
‘Would you like a tissue?’
‘I could use one’
‘Sorry I don’t have one’
Pinny laughed again.
**
She heard the sound of a bird whose call sounded like a question.
Lions head in the well
'Mr lion how do you keep your water flowing?'
‘I believe the question should be, whose land you’re standing on’
‘Oh, then, Mr lion… May I ask- ‘
‘Go ahead’
‘Whose land is this?’
‘This was home to the Earls of Dartmouth’
‘These low stone walls sure do look fun to walk along’
‘If I were you, and I couldn’t possibly become you, I would avoid it’
‘How so?’
Three natural springs rose up south of the Sandwell priory, which was a monastery that once stood here. One of them was known as a holy well. Out of this holy well came frogs, who do like little children. I don’t think you would like to know what those frogs would do to you.’
‘What would they do to me mr lion?.’
‘Nothing, I am just trying to scare you is all’
‘Well I am scared, so how do you keep your water flowing then?’
‘In the eighteenth century there was a circular well on the spring, facing sound-well hall. By 1807, it had become a drinking fountain, with water flowing through three brick chambers, and out of me, into the basin below me, and there you have it!’
‘Did you pledge to them that you would never stop flowing Mr Lion?’
‘For your entertainment, I believe you could say that’
‘What if I pour the water out of you then- ?’
Pinny was no longer there, she disappeared into the lions head.
A/N Thank you so much for reading 🤗🙏🏽♥️
About the Creator
Caitlin Charlton
Writer first. Close reader and self‑taught critic shaping eloquence.
A survivor reclaiming her territory.
I write dark fiction and poetry through symbol, shadow, and fracture.
Always sharpening the craft. ✏️🔥👠
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