Renewable Resources

There have been survivors of The Forest. A few. They shamble out years after entering the dark wood, pale, dazed, pockmarked with scabbed-over bitemarks, but still recognizable. Upon hearing their names, they begin to ascend from their amnestic fog, first nodding, then murmuring Ah yes, ah yes, desiccated finger to chin. An alertness appears in their eyes. Of course, of course, they say, slight smile curving their thin, dry lips. They become titans of industry, amassing wealth, gorging, carousing, sucking the very marrow of life, inspiring generations of new meat to stride into The Forest on its own two legs.