The Forest of Sleeping Men

The forest was falling into ruin, the trees like brittle skeletons
  with the wind blowing through empty rib cages.

Even the most oblivious animals realized this inevitable fate they had come to,
  but what could they do to fix such a horrible problem?

The spirits took the liberty of deciding who would be sent to awaken the Guardian,
  the only thing that could end the threat of humans forever.

They chose the finicky fox girl Lillian for this honorable adventure,
  though she was the youngest, they put their faith and lives in her hands.

*

Finally, after days of trekking across the forest, she came to a small clearing,
  the light shone on a single figure in the middle, the Guardian.

A gasp escaped her, the silver golem was a sight deserving of awe.
  She peered around the trunk of a small tree, feeling insignificant compared to him.

A set of iron flails for a left hand, slightly rusted, and a mighty sword for a right,
  this Guardian looked like something to run away from.

Lillian crept out, keeping to the shadows because they looked safer,
  her tail held tight against the back of her legs, ears pricked for any sound.

At first, there was silence, but then the birds started shrieking one after the other,
  she swiveled her head trying to find the cause of their discomfort.

Their screaming had rose to a single sound of terror, and just as suddenly as it commenced,
  the cries grew still, as if shushed by Mother Nature herself.

Glancing back to the statue, she saw that the flail was slowly spinning, as if by the wind,
  but there was no breeze blowing through the forest's trees and shrubbery.

She watched, both with fear and curiosity, as the flail spun faster and faster and faster,
  and abruptly snapped up over the golem's shoulder, clanking against his back.

He scanned the treeline around the clearing, took a tentative step forward,
  then began hacking at the bushes surrounding him like they were monsters ready to attack.

Lillian frowned. Wasn't he supposed to be their savior, not causing even more damage?
  Why was he hurting the thing that gave birth to him? She turned her head away.

Finally done with his massacre of the greenery, he stepped forward,
  instantly vanishing into the dark cloak of the trees, hidden from view.

She waited a few seconds, making sure he was out of earshot,
  whistled for her companion foxes, and wandered after him, taking care to tread in his prints.
*

She followed him all the way to the lopsided cabin at the edge of the forest,
  careful that her feet were as quiet as an owl's wings in the night.

And she watched as he slunk through the narrow doorway, bent double,
  his hulking mass barely fitting without tearing the door frame out.

Lillian scowled as the golem exited the cabin, his sword painted a deep copper,
  and she raced towards him, tail streaming behind her, thoughts jumbled.

Behind her, flowing together seamlessly, her mass of foxes slid forth,
  their lithe bodies weaving through the foliage with fluid ease.

She confronted him, her pack an ever present shadow, and spoke in her clearest voice,
  “Who are you and what are you doing?!” her eyes hesitant but angry.

He tilted his head, bewildered by the strange creature in front of him,
  face hidden beneath his weathered metal helmet.

“Hey, mister, I'm talking to you!” she stretched forward to poke his chest,
  but her tiny stature only allowed her to reach his stomach.

But as soon as her finger touched the seemingly thick, impenetrable metal,
  it gave way as if made from aluminum foil, and she saw that his torso was completely hollow.

Lillian scrambled backwards, stunned, while the golem held his arm in front of the small hole,
  his flail clanking against the front of his thighs, not leaving a dent.

“W-what are you?” she stammered, nothing she was seeing made sense.
  The Guardian pushed her out of his way, smearing crimson on her shoulder.

He took a few steps forward and stopped with his back to her, head slightly turned,
  “I am what you make me out to be,” his voice flat-lining her pulse.

And he left at a brisk pace, his knees never bending, like he was in a hurry,
  leaving wide-eyed Lillian to stare at his back.

It took her a few moments, but by the time she had her thoughts in order,
  Lillian was leaning nonchalantly against a tree, not looking as the golem came near.

He didn't seem impressed by her speed, which disappointed her, but she asked casually anyway,
  “Where's such a tender,” she flashed her fangs, “guy like you headed so quickly?”

His steps never faltered, “To save your forest. That is what you wanted, correct?”
  It was eerie how he had no mouth, but words still came from deep within his throat.

“Sure, sure, yeah, that's what we all want,” she held her arms out wide and circled, shouting the end,
  “don't we, guys?” The foxes all yelped in approval, and even the leaves rustled harshly.
“But just one quick question, Mister Guardian,” sneering, walking circles around him,
  “if you're saving our forest, why is there blood,” she pointed, “on your sword?”

He ignored her, struggling through the branches that had reached out to grab him,
  the tendrils tearing gaping holes in his aluminum foil armor.

Finally, as a last-ditch effort to free himself, he raised his sword to a branch,
  cutting it clean in half, and immediately all the trees shrunk away, suddenly fearful.

His eyes wandered over the trees, convincing himself that their assault was done,
  then he turned around, his face inches from Lillian's, who hung from a lone branch above.

An upside-down grin greeted him, “See, buddy, that's why we don't trust you,”
  she gnashed her teeth, “we like things that bite, but not when they bite us.”

He backed away, but she snatched his shoulder, threatening to sever his arm,
  he slashed at her with his sword, and she released him, hissing like a rattler.

Turning, he fled towards the cabin once again, stumbling and falling from injuries,
  followed by her taunting voice, “I wouldn't go that way if I were you!”

Appearing, slowly at first but then blocking his path, were her foxes,
  one, two, three, their sly grins haunting him like a bad dream.

He swung, hitting a few, but soon became overwhelmed by their lunging numbers,
  and he fell, nothing but tatters of himself laying in the suggestion of a humanoid figure.

Lillian approached, clucking her tongue in disapproval,
  “You don't know how lucky you are, Mister Guardian.” without a hint of mockery.

*

Great job, applauded the wiser spirits,  this is him.
  They only wanted her to find the real Guardian.

Apparently, only the real Guardian could be hurt by other forest creatures.
  Safety reasons, they said. That way, they could stop him if need be.

So, the Guardian was torn to shreds, but with a snap of their fingers,
  he looked just as he did in the clearing where he had rested.

Lillian was then assigned to show him how to treat the forest appropriately,
  and how to treat the humans appropriately.

The forest soon grew to it's most prosperous,
  plentiful of all health and life, now thanks to the assisted help of the Guardian.