I owe nothing from the Buffy universe and any characters here depicted belong entirely to their creator as does the world of Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien. The Story title and chapter title come from an old old song Whispering Grass, which I believe was recorded by The Ink Spots and written by Fred and Doris Fisher in 1940.
He stood rooted to almost the same spot as he had been for the last 3 days since IT had happened.
No matter how many times he shuffled around, looked in the undergrowth, looked at the ground, looked at the sky, he still did not understand what IT had been. By now the noise the grass was making annoyed him as it rustled in the gentle breeze - it seemed to be mocking him. If he listened carefully he could almost hear it chanting "We know, We know" .
He knew what he saw and what he felt, but it was so impossibly impossible that it couldn’t possibly have been possible. But these were strange times and maybe impossible things did happen.
For the umpteenth time since IT had happened, he let his mind drift back…
Traipsing through the forest, he picked up speed slightly. Urgent things so rarely happened that for this meeting to be urgent it had to be REALLY urgent.
He cast his eyes upwards and shuddered. A storm seemed to be brewing and everyone knew you shouldn’t be near trees when lightening hit. He chuckled slightly to himself at that thought and lumbered onwards.
Pausing in a clearing, he looked upwards and, for the first time that evening, saw the sky properly. Blue and purple clouds swirled round each other, seemingly dancing for mastery of the skies. Lightning sparked across and around them and filled the clearing with mystical lights.
He stared mesmerized as leaves fluttered down round him. He had never seen anything like this before, though he knew his knowledge of the world was limited.
As he stared, the clouds danced apart and an opening appeared in the center. He could see clear skies through it and stood transfixed and not just a little bit fearful - the air felt different and seemed to be closing in around him. He shivered again and looked for an escape but also wondered if he should maybe stay and tell someone what he saw. He knew there were wizards about doing wizard like things, and he really didn’t want to get mixed up in all that.
As he pondered, not wanting to be hasty, the decision was made for him, as a speck appeared in the middle of the opening. It appeared to be falling, and rather quickly at that, for, as he watched, it grew in size until he could make out a human like shape with arms and legs flailing.
He automatically moved to break the creature’s fall, which by now he could hear screaming and cursing and decided that it was most likely a human female, or maybe an elf. Just as it reached him, he thought he heard her say “Oh fu” before she disappeared completely.
He thought she had landed on one of the upper branches, but no-one was there, just a drift of what appeared to be fine ash falling through the leaves to the ground.
Looking back at the sky, he could feel the difference in the air. The feeling of oppression was gone and the sky was clear and starry. A beautiful, if puzzling, night.
He thought the grass sounded like it was laughing at him.
He sighed once more bringing himself back to the present. No matter how many times he relived the events, he still could not make head or tail of what had happened.
He watched as figures move from the forest, striding onwards purposefully and decided to join them. If anything else strange was to happen there would be others now to bear witness. Women just did not fall out of the sky then disappear when they landed on your branches. He was sure the grass was laughing at him openly now. Maybe he had been under magical mushroom influence?
Sighing, the young Ent decided IT had not happened at all and he would look foolish to tell anyone. He moved to catch up with the others joining the flow towards the moot that Treebeard had called.
Why do you whisper, green grass
Why tell the tress what ain't so
The trees don't have to know