The first night of freedom... [Semi-open/Message me]

[.ϾђɑɍĮόϯϯɛ.]

-She walked for hours. Until the morning sun was high above her head, and the heat had warmed her well past the point of comfort. Little beads of sweat gathered along her brow, but even this did not cause her much distress—in fact she enjoyed the sensation of it all. Her hair was moist with perspiration and when the breeze blew just right, she would feel the moisture cool around the nape of her neck and her body would experience a delicious confusion between heat and cold. At some point, early on, she had also stopped to put on Nicholas’s pants, which were woefully big on her along with his shirt. Over all she appeared to resemble some ill-dressed tomboy, but there was little that could be done to hide her unearthly beauty. However, even her unearthly beauty, could not hide the sheer frustration that continuously passed over her face whenever she had to tug the stupid pants back up her slender hips. If there was one thing she regretted about leaving Nicholas’s home, it was merely the fact that she had not thought ahead to pick up a belt. Now she was forced to move about with pants that covered her feet and quickly gathered up dirt and bits of dry plants, while having to hold fistfuls of the material at her waist to keep them from falling. It was a miserable way to travel.

From her right wrists, tied by slender black strings, was the small black velvet bag she had also stolen from Nicholas’s desk. She figured there might be a few coins, nothing a man like him would miss, but she had yet to actually sit down and examine the contents. At the present moment, all she truly cared about was putting as much distance between her and that horrible man.

It was well into the afternoon by the time she reached the edge of the woods—immediately, before her, spread a vast and beautiful open space of green. She reached out and touched some of the swaying tips of grass and found them to be like silk and wonderfully cool. For a moment she just wanted to enjoy the movement of the grass, it was like an enormous living entity, swaying at the will of the breeze back and forth. The sight was mesmerizing, so much so, that she seemed to lose track of time. It wasn’t until the emerald green took a visible change in color to a more dull shade that she realized the sun was not far from touching down against the horizon.

Night was coming—and she had nothing.

The difficulty of her current state slowly but surely sank into her consciousness. This was her first night away from the softness of a bed or the warmth of—well, there had been no warmth. She was certain that it would be the most difficult of nights, but if she survived it, then she would move forward and become stronger. Her arms crossed, she cupped each elbow in each opposite hand and held herself tightly.

“And if I die?” she asked aloud, before glancing up at the dimming sky. There was no response. No answer from the heavens—but then again, there never was.

“Well, if I die,” she stated again, turning her golden gaze upon the open grasslands trying to see as far as her eyes would allow, “I shall die a free woman.”

That, was indeed a comfort.-

[Modulation]

He had been watching her, waiting. A young woman, in clothes much too big for her, and obviously running away from someone. She was...stunning, to say the least. Not that it mattered to Jacques Thalindros. He was only a mercenary - a hired sword. The hardest part had been the plan, since whoever was looking for her was probably sending more than a few people. An old trick had come to mind for him...and it only required parts of his kill for the day. So, for now, he waited until she was near the trees. She had been on the approach for a while, now, but he chose to wait it out. It was just beginning to pay off. Coming from behind the tree, he nocked an arrow to his bow, aiming for her leg. "If you wish to take another step, you'll put your hands as far up as they'll go. And don't make any rash decisions."

Jack wasn't a large man, but he was certainly well-muscled. At 5'9", he was wearing a sleeveless shirt, loose white pants, boots, and a green sash. His hair was blonde, and cut in a militaristic fashion - a small rat-tail was tied in the back of it. His eyes were a bright blue, but did not echo kindness...rather, they reflected a stern quality, one that came from years of battle and training. Training for what, was the question. Regardless...his bow was of a fine quality, one that showed he had cared for it greatly. It was fine wood, with different designs etched in depicting old battles. His arrows were fletched with green feathers, but didn't have arrowheads - it was so that they went right through, or came right out. Besides his quiver, he was also carrying a messenger's bag which held his other things inside, as well as a waterskin on his belt.

Slowly, he began to take a few steps towards her, stopping in the grass. "If you comply, I have no reason to hurt you." That was how he worked. He didn't take lives that didn't need taking, didn't steal, didn't search for fights...but if he could earn some coin, Jack would take the job in a heartbeat. And, by what the girl had said about freedom, she was most likely a slave. It did no good to return her to the hunters, or to the man she had run from - instead, the warrior believed that he knew someone who would give him some coin in exchange for her. What that man did was none of his business, but as far as Jack knew, he had yet to be wronged by the guy. She would get fair treatment, in any case, and might actually survive her ordeal. So as far as this was concerned, he was her best option right now.

[.ϾђɑɍĮόϯϯɛ.]

-She had settled for rest, of mind and body. She would watch the sun in its glorious decent toward the other side of the globe, and then she would worry about what came next. Or so she thought, anyway. So she continued to stand there, with her own arms wrapped around her own small body, and breathing softly now the sweet smell of crisp evening air and fresh grass. It was in this soft moment of peace that the stranger, bow and arrow drawn, would come upon her with his demands.

Charlotte was not foolish enough to seek out death. She didn’t want to die. So, had she the time to consider his proposition she would have certainly agreed to not move a muscle and to listen to the rest of his request. Something about an arrow through the heart did not sound, in reality, nearly as poetic as it did in the abstract of the stories she had read. But he had come upon her like thief—so keen were his skills that she had not heard him, not until he breathed, nearly at her side. And so her reaction was not to stop and listen, but to jump, startled at the sound of his voice. She turned on her heel, a heel which had up until this moment stood upon the long material of the pants that covered her little feet. This twisting motion, this startled step to turn, and then the sight of him was all it took for fate to turn her perfect wheel.

Golden eyes settled upon the fresh blue of his own, they stared for only a moment, before the sound of his voice again caused her to step back. It was merely a half step, not an attempt to escape, but due to her long pants being all tangled up now under her small feet it caused her entire balance to falter. It would be up to him if he released the strained arrow, if he took the shot for which he had already prepared. Charlotte stumbled backwards, falling upon her bottom, but also deep into the tall lush grass. It was as if she were swallowed by the silken strands that continued to sway in the evening breeze. Should he release his arrow, surely it would come within millimeters of her flesh, if not grazing her delicate flesh and breaking the skin open. However, it would completely miss its mark of tender flesh and muscle. It seemed that Charlotte was rescued by her own clumsiness.

She didn’t have time to think, to really consider what she was doing, or what it would mean should she fail. As soon as she hit the ground, with a hard and painful thump, she was already upon her hands and knees keeping well below the tall grass and crawling madly toward some unknown center. If she could only get lost in the grass, if she could completely evade him—then maybe her liberty would not be short-lived. The breeze was on her side, shifting the grass in all directions, making it impossible to tell where exactly she was moving, but she couldn’t be too far—could she?

Perhaps something that would give her away was her sudden harsh breathing, although she was trying hard to control it. Fear gripped her but also filled her with that sudden burst of adrenalin that prevented her from stopping, even though she knew he was there, right behind her.-

[Modulation]

As she startled him, the arrow launched towards a leg, as he had intended. Instead of the desired effect, it only succeeded in pinning one pantleg to the ground. And, running after as he got closer, he swore. This girl was going to catch her death of cold before he even got to her. What was next, a seduction? This fair beauty would not get the better of him, no sir. That, he swore would never happen. Jack would be bested by no man, woman, or child when he set his mind to it. So as he retrieved the arrow, he slung the garment over his shoulder and looked around. No...he couldn't pinpoint her. With a sigh, he nocked another arrow to his bow and waited.

"Crawling around on the cold ground isn't going to do you any favors. I promise you won't be harmed." He thought for a moment, before continuing. "These woods are dangerous, you know. Can't survive long on plants - gotta have energy...like meat. Yeah, juicy wolfmeat, right off the bone...cooked to perfection...of course, I have enough for the both of us." It was true - he also had the pelt in his bag. It was loaded to the brim. "And then there's all sorts of carnivorous things in that forest. Owlbears, who would eat a pretty girl like you in two bites. Plants which lure you in, and digest you for seven days. Trees which would just as soon rip you apart with their branchey claws just as soon as you lie down against them."

Jack was on a roll, here - and he watched for signs of movement. "Oh, and don't get me started on the things that inhabit the rivers. Dragons, which tear their prey apart in seconds. Water demons who wait for you to put a hand in, so they can suck you into the depths and suffocate you until you drown. There's a great Hydra, with seventeen heads, which dwells in the lake, and grows two heads every time you chop one off." Thinking for a moment, he remembered. "I've got a nice warm blanket for you, though, if you'd like to be nice and quiet about this. I'll be sure to guide you away from those nasty creatures, too, and make sure that the men hunting you don't find you. But you're going to have to trust me."

[.ϾђɑɍĮόϯϯɛ.]

-There was a slight tug and then the sudden burst of crisp cool lace against her naked thighs. She shuddered when she realized she had just lost her pants, but they were abandoned without a second thought as she continued forward. Meanwhile she had to suffer through the rather embarrassing sensation of vegetation licking at her knees, at her thighs, and even more private places. The emotions inside of her flickered between sheer fear and utter rage that he had caused her this much grief—a complete stranger! What right did he have to come upon her, pointing a weapon at her?

When he began to call out his voice was distant—this gave her a sense of security that a good amount of distance had been achieved. But still she could make out the sound of his words, and understand them cohesively. For a moment she merely froze, still upon hands and knees, with her head cocked to the side to better catch the sound of his voice. Immediately her face broke into disgust. This man was attempting to lure her in, truly? After having released an arrow at her—that given her good fortune had not made its mark straight through the flesh of her leg? Her reaction was to call back, to engage him in an argument, and point out the obvious flaws in his claims. It was in her very nature to resist blatant dishonesty—but she knew better.

“I’ll fair much better with those beasts,” she grumbled, trying to keep her voice low.

Luckily for the mercenary, tonight was a perfectly clear night, and the moon was quite full and shone down with such brightness that it lent the earth a sort of dream like clarity. By this point, little Charlotte, had climbed up to stand on her two feet—constantly tugging the oversized shirt back down. The shirt fit her like a dress, and for the most part, would keep her decent—less she should take another nasty spill. Keeping bent, she began to move further along, until his voice was a distant call, which continued to throw out ridiculous warnings. Sadly for Charlotte, she was in good health, and she was not human.

From his position he would spy, should he have a keen enough gaze, the gentle glow of something moving through the grass toward a slight valley. It was a silvery light, as if a group of fireflies had decided to conjure and move about together as a single entity. Truly, it was an ethereal sight, which most humans could not quite resist. There was something about this girl that would remain with the mercenary, though they had only shared a very short moment. There was a warmth to her presence, a radiance of—simply put, goodness, in her wake.

But she was moving swiftly now—and he was about to lose her.-

[Modulation]

The small noise was all he needed. Like a flash, he had a direction - and he stalked through the grass, without a sound. His boots were still back at the spot where he'd been standing, and only bare feet tapped the earth. The wind now worked for him, since it blocked out his footsteps. Closer and closer he got, until she stood up. And then...he had her. He held his arrow firm as he closed the distance between them, stopping twenty feet away and launching it into the ground ahead of her. She was moving down a hill, after all, and he was slightly to the side of her. "The chase is up. The next shot takes a limb." Jack wasn't messing around anymore.

Something about the girl was beginning to affect him. As much as he wanted to deny it...she was certainly beautiful. Someone who outshone all of the women before her. It was a crime to tether down such loveliness, but also one to watch her get herself killed. He couldn't find the words to describe it, but she was...alluring, in every way shape and form. The way the light played upon her hair...the reflections on her bare legs...the gracefulness of the way she moved...all of it spoke of something else. Something beyond the attainment of any human woman. As he held the arrow to his bow, part of him wanted to keep her forever save in his arms, and never threaten her again. He felt ashamed to be hunting her down like some...

Witch! She was bewitching him! A scowl came upon his face as he scattered the thought. She was seducing him with unnatural magic! Oh, and how he had almost fallen into her snare. Wasn't he trained better than that? No, Jack would show no mercy to this she-devil, this enchantress who weaved a mighty spear for him to plunge into his ches- No. That was not the right reaction, either. Something about her was tampering with his emotions, sending his thoughts into a frenzy. Jack was not the one to be scared of anything, but he had an idea that this woman was powerful indeed. "...what manner of being are you, to mess with my head so?"

[.ϾђɑɍĮόϯϯɛ.]

-Each step she took felt lifted, and even jolly, although only moments ago she had been threatened with an arrow tightly pulled on a bow. She was riding high on her sentiments of superiority—two escapes in one day! Her stomach was full of butterflies, a sensation akin to nothing she had ever felt before. There was such a sense of pride, she felt herself overwhelmed by the sensation—and then it all came crashing down.

There was a sudden burst of air, it flew past her head and caused a few strands of her chocolate dark hair to swirl forward and caress her cheek. She heard the way the arrow pierced the soft earth not far ahead of her, and her heart sank so deep into her stomach that it nearly knocked her off her feet. Sadly, her feet were well grounded this time, and clumsiness would not offer her a second chance out. Instead both her hands immediately shot up, attentively reaching for the air, though they were visibly trembling. In fact the trembling was so bad, her gentle heart so gripped by fear, that her bottom lip was quivering with the same intensity. She was too afraid to turn, to afraid that he would mistake her movement for something else, and…

The tears came without much warning; they burst from her eyes like heavy raindrops. Her flesh was chilled by the train of warm wetness they left behind on her cheeks. Soon enough there were little sobs coming from her, causing her small frame to shake violently. It was a curious reaction, especially in a world so vicious, to see someone completely captivated by fear. There was nothing brave about her or daring now—she was weeping like a child. And she had good reason to! She recognized the sudden change in his voice—when he asked what she was. How could she defend herself when this world was so filled up with people unwilling to accept different sorts?

She was about to die—she was sure of it.

“P-please…” she had to swallow back a sob, “Please…don’t kill me.” Slowly, ever so slowly she sank down to her already muddied knees and knelt there, hands still up in the air. All she could hope to do was show her submission. Without knowledge of what sort of man this way—sane or insane, all she could do was pray to a God who refused to listen. And so she did. She closed her golden eyes as tight as she could and felt her trembling lips break into hushed prayer.-

[Modulation]

She had stopped, as intended. And quivering like a leaf, hands in the air. Finally, success! He nearly shot her as she dropped to the ground, but that was because...oh, gods. She was crying. Putting his arrow away, he rolled his eyes as she begged for her life. Yeah, yeah...he put his bow away, reaching in his bag and taking out some thick cord. He wasted no time in binding her ankles as he pulled her down to the ground forcefully. This one was not escaping again. "I don't want you to think I'm being lecherous or anything, because I'm not. But there's going to be trouble if we don't cover your tracks." After bringing her back up, he pulled the shirt off, only looking at her back. And pulled a hunting cloak over her, covering her nudity before he bound her wrists.

Not caring if she watched, he set both the pants and the shirt on the ground, taking out a set of claws that fit over his hands. Sharp, and his only melee weapon. They increased the deadliness of bare fists. He clawed up the clothing with vigor, sprinkling some tufts of fur from the pelt of the wolf, like it had been pulled off. And, finally, squeezed some of the blood out from the meat over it. Tossing the shirt a small bit away, it looked like there had been a mauling. It would work in a pinch, and it counted on the search party being made of a bunch of dolts. Which, most likely, they were. Checking her bindings one last time - nice and tight, so that she couldn't break free or get some fingers in to untie it - he slung her over a shoulder, and walked back up the hill. But not before retrieving his arrow.

Jack got to his boots again, and put them on, still carrying the girl. It didn't matter what she said now - he knew her tricks. They wouldn't work a second time. Carrying her into the woods, he declined comment for a while. After an hour or so..."There's a river up ahead. We'll eat there." Small words, so that she couldn't start crying again. But he made note of some of the trees as he carried her over his shoulder, arm over her waist. Finally, they set down - and he put her down roughly in the clearing. "I'll be back in a minute - stay put." Something nagged at him again, saying he was being harsh with such a woman. But he put it back down. Money was more important to him right now...and besides, he was keeping her from being stupid. Right?

...right?

[.ϾђɑɍĮόϯϯɛ.]

-A wince crossed her pretty face when she felt the sharp tug of something around her ankles—binding them rather tightly. Her pretty face turned over her shoulder and managed only to get a slight peek of the stranger before she was roughly shoved to the ground. She was ready to fight, ready to push and pull and kick and scream if she had to in order to survive. And just as her hands came up to fight him he caught her wrists with such ease. Her face held a flustered expression before the twine was wrapped around her slender wrists and tightly bound. It took only a matter of seconds, but she was successfully restrained, without as much as a chance to try and fight.

When his hands came down upon her shirt she screamed, only to be silenced by his gruff handling of her smaller body. He all but ripped the shirt off her body before tossing it aside. The cold air only assaulted her skin for a moment before she was covered by a draping cloak—a heavy and rough feeling thing. This she tried to pull close to her body, although her wrists were bound, she could still grab fistfuls of the material.

Horrified she watched as he set his trap—for who she wasn’t sure. No one was coming after her, certainly not Nicholas. But still her golden eyes took in the sight of how viciously he tore into what she had been wearing only moments before—and then the blood and the fur; it was all so exact and calculated. Her view of him changed, he wasn’t just some dumb brute, no far from it. He was a far more devious and dangerous. When his blue eyes turned back to her she jumped and sank deeper against the heavy cloak, trying to hide from him. She put up some resistance, kicking and pushing away from him when he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. For the first hour of this walk she fought, she beat at his back with her small bound hands, and tried to reason with him.

It didn’t pay off.

When he dropped her to the ground it was rather unceremoniously. She cried out at her rough landing and remained where he had tossed her; all too aware that he would surely kill her if she tried to run. Instead she settled there, sitting on her knees, though it was a little hard to get her body up with her limbs so tightly bound. In fact her wrists and ankles were aching from the rough rub of the rope—nearly raw by this point, there were little signs of blood beginning to show, but nothing he would notice. And she wouldn't dare complain.-

[Modulation]

He had barely registered her kicking and talking the entire time. Instead, he was tuned into the surroundings. As long as she didn't scream...he really didn't care. Coming back, though, as promised, he had some firewood. Setting it down near her, and in the clearing, he went to the river. Surrounding a small area with rocks, he finally took the time to pull out his flint and tinder, and struck life into the wood. His actions didn't cease - Jack set two stakes up. He'd been carving with a small knife as he'd been walking, and had made a nice spit. Now he placed the meat on it, which was already cleaned, and wrapped in thick cloth to contain the smell and the blood. It was raw wolfmeat - fresh from before.

Not wasting any time, he walked over and cut the cord holding her wrists together. Then her ankles. "It works much better if you stick your arms through the sleeves, instead of through the top of it." The cloak was indeed rough - made of wool, and died black, it was purely for hiding in the dark. However, it also provided warmth, which she wouldn't have had with the other loose clothes. And even if it was a tad big on her, it would still function well. For the moment, though, he concentrated on roasting the meat. Years of living in the wild had taught him a few things, and the fire created faint smoke. Jack had chosen the right woods.

Now, as he finished, he took it off the fire and broke the stake in half, handing her a chunk of spitted, roasted wolfmeat. "You're going to want to eat, to keep your energy up. We're not stopping for rest - and I need you on your own two feet." He left his on the fire a bit longer, to get tougher. Sprinkling spices on it, to preserve it. Then he began using some of the fabric he had kept from the outfit she'd been wearing, and fashioned some rough shoes. They were only cloth slippers, but where he was guiding her, they'd keep her feet warm and prevent her from cutting them up. He didn't need her slowing him down.

"The river's got some clean water, as well, if you need a drink - but don't expect to get far." It was right there, after all. He had noted the rawness of her wrists from cutting, but only applauded himself. It only meant that she had tried to escape, and failed. "Don't scream, don't yell, don't do anything that might attract unwanted attention. I wasn't kidding when I said there were things in these woods that would kill you in a moment's notice. Don't expect any special treatment, because you're still a woman, and you're still someone's property. That's not my business, but it is my employer's. And, lastly...don't try anything stupid, or you're not going to like walking anymore. Understand?" To the point, as always.

[.ϾђɑɍĮόϯϯɛ.]

-Her lovely face was stained with dust and tears, making for a rather drab mixture that touched her flesh and painted her much like some street urchin. There was a flicker of anxiety in her eyes when he drew near her, knife in hand, but soon enough she realized he only intended on cutting away her bondage. And so her arms were limber in his grasp, moving whatever way he so desired. As soon as the ropes were cut she was rubbing at the raw red flesh and working her delicate white fingers against the tightly wrought knot on her ankles. She took a moment to look over her bloodied flesh before ignoring it completely—it would heal, in a matter of seconds actually. Deciding that it was better that this stranger didn’t actually notice her strange ability to heal; she moved to readjust the strange garment he had given her and to actually wear it correctly. It was much more comfortable this way.

He was speaking to her, or rather speaking down at her, barking about something or another. Frankly she had stopped listening to him a long time ago. Everything this man said was a clear contradiction, and one look upon his hard face revealed much too much. He thought himself some sort of hero because he fed and clothed her—he conveniently ignored the fact that he had kidnapped her and was intending to sell her to his employer. No, he was just as evil and cruel as anyone she had met in her short life.

“You can stop threatening me,” she snapped suddenly. Her voice was sweet, even when she was upset, her voice sounded like bells—clear and crisp and even a little dangerous. Her eyes were swirling pools of gold now, as they glared daggers in his direction, “I understand, I won’t yell, I won’t do anything because clearly you’re just itching for any excuse to hurt me.” When he held out the food she lifted a single hand and refused it. “No thanks, I’d rather not be poisoned by the same filth you devour.”

Charlotte was unnecessarily cruel with her words, but who would question her in her current position? She felt nothing but disgust and anger toward this man—this stranger who had come from the woods and laid claim to her life. For a moment Charlotte appeared ill, her features became very serious, and she tilted away touching her forehead. She was feeling too much—she was filled with so much hurt and anger that it was affecting her sight. It would take her just a moment to calm down, and once that happened she would drop her shoulders and keep her face hidden by that pretty white hand. By now the little tears upon her wrist were gone; in fact, the entire swollen red flesh had become pristine and striking like the rest of her. -

[Modulation]

He was a little taken aback by her words, but it didn't stop him for long. "If I ate poison, I wouldn't be alive right now." If she wasn't going to eat, it wasn't his problem. Taking the stake, he flung it as far through the trees as it would go. "Still, I think the predators will enjoy it more." Jack checked on the spitted meat, satisfied that it was cooked as well as it needed to be. It had gotten tough, but that was good - it meant that the meat could be used later, without fear of spoilage. Wrapping it in a fresh cloth, he stowed it back in his bag, next to the cord, the claws, and his other tools. That would last more than a few days, but he may have to smoke it better tomorrow night.

He had paid special note to her wrist when the sleeve had retreated in refusing the food. It was...healing. That only affirmed his notion that she was something he hadn't seen before. Why, if she was a slave, her body had no marks, no flaws. She was built purely to enchant men. He turned his head away from those enchanting golden eyes, muttering, "She's not getting in my head a second time..." Finishing the arrangement of cloth, he took out a small needle and began to sew the slippers together at the top. He'd gotten a good look at her feet, so Jack was estimating - but he was always good at measuring lengths and distances. Had to be, to survive.

Even around the top edge, he began to sew some thin cord around, so she could tie them on. The slippers were, by no means, elaborate - but they had the softer lining of the shirt inside, and the rougher cloth of the pants on the outside, making for something more comfortable than walking around on sticks and sharp things with bare feet. He lightly tossed them over when he was done, so that they would come to rest to her side. And he began to get a nagging feeling. Something she said. Was he itching for an excuse to hurt her? That would have to change. Jack needed to protect her, keep her clo- No. Not that again. She was worming her way inside his head. But...the feeling was a bit right.

"...I'm just not used to dealing with women." And it was true. Normally, he only dealt with men who needed jobs done. Sometimes, he'd get the occasional jealous wife, asking to assassinate her husband or his "tramp". Jack didn't kill for money. But this girl didn't act like the women he knew. She was more than willing to match wits with him, when she wasn't busy crying. He hadn't met a girl like her, and it wasn't just her looks, or her voice, or the enchanting way the firelight danced off of her beautiful skin, or- "No!" He held his temple between two fingers, calming himself down. "Why do I have these thoughts of you?"

"Every time I begin to think of you, it's as if you're compelling me to coddle you, or to run away in fear. I fear no man, no woman...but you're different. Somehow. The way you heal, the way you move, the way you talk...it's like some god chose to create the perfect woman, and failed to take into account how people would react. How they fear someone of such unearthly beauty, or want to treat her as if she were some delicate glass statue that would shatter if given the slightest breeze. If so, you pray to a cruel god." He shifted, looking into the woods. "Out here, in the forest...nothing will be your friend. They'll run, and hide, or they'll attack you without a moment's notice. You're just another creature to them."

He seemed to be attempting to reaffirm himself. "And you're just another woman to me, nothing more or less." He stared into the fire for a moment, before standing up and brandishing the bloodied cloth from the meat. Tossing it over the flames, he stamped it out, making sure no embers would spread through the woods. The signs of it would still be telltale, as well as the two logs set up for sitting to the sides - but there were many campfires that went on through the woods. This one didn't mean anything more than a traveler. "We're going to have to get moving, if you want to avoid the men after you." He took out another length of cord, cutting it and looking at her. "Just your wrists this time - need to make sure you're keeping pace."

[.ϾђɑɍĮόϯϯɛ.]

-These accusations were nothing new to her, unfortunately. In fact, it wasn’t too long ago, when Morrick had warned her that this is exactly the way people would react to her. Yet, she could feel how the disappointment was eating away at her foundations. She truly believed that there was somewhere that would not only view her as an individual, but as a free individual. But if she had any doubt at all that this was not the place, he all but reassured that fact with his strange speech. The level of cruelty that he was now displaying was unfathomable, but he obviously failed to understand the reasons. Like a mad man he spoke to her about her ‘enchanting ways’ and blatantly accused her of worming her way into his mind. She wanted so badly to respond that she wasn’t the one who had tied him up, or shot arrows at him—she obviously wasn’t the one in control.

But what was the point?

Instead, after he was done speaking down to her, he would see the way her head lowered. Perhaps he’d think that he had succeeded somehow, and that she was accepting her fault. The reality was much different. Charlotte felt devastated and hopeless, more than she had in her entire life, and her entire life consisted of being someone’s property. However, here were Morrick’s words come back to haunt her, and absolutely true. The world would never accept her—not without trying to paint her as something else.

She did not grant him a response, or even attempt to look at him again for fear of being once again accused of being some evil seductress. In her time with Morrick she had read more than enough to understand what the point of seduction was and she had no intentions of following through with any of those sorts of acts with this monster. Rather than engage him again she tried to focus on calming herself down, because she could feel how her stomach as starting to turn, and how her head was beginning to throb. She was exhausted from nearly a full day of running and was now informed that they were going to continue. Without thanking him or looking at him she wiggled her little feet into the shoes he had made and bound them around her ankles. She understood the point of this and didn’t fight it.

However, the moment he noted that her wrists would have to be bound again her eyes darted to his face. The look upon that hauntingly pretty face was one of sheer horror. “No,” she stated passionately, tucking her wrists against her stomach, inside the heavy cloak. She was shaking her head and pulling her knees close to her chest, more successfully hiding her little hands. “No, no, no, you don’t have to do that…I won’t try to run.”

It was a lie, but he didn’t know that.-

[Modulation]

"Then I shall have to tie it around your neck, because you'll wander off if I don't." He had watched her movements, how she hung her head. Maybe she was disappointed in him, how he carried himself. He didn't smell, did he? He bathed often, but sometimes, the smell of the woods got on him...no, dammit! Why couldn't he get her out of his head? This wasn't natural! He didn't have feelings for people, because feelings made him weak! Why was it that she tormented him so? Why did she swim through his mind, breaking his concentration? It's as if she were enchanting him, seducing him, through no fault of her own. She was cursed. And that's when he started to think, standing over her.

Why was he still making a fuss over her? Was he really concerned about her safety, or just wanting money from it? Surely, he needed the money...but some things were more important than that. For example, keeping his morals to him. Was he the person to treat someone like this, when he could eat and live on just the forest? And that's where the true dilemma lay. Who was Jack? Well, he obviously had life, and limbs, and skills in the forest. But what sort of person was Jack? If he truly wanted to help her, why didn't he just...there it was. The deciding thought.

With a sigh, he set his bag down, as well as his bow and quiver. He set the velvet pouch on it, which he'd taken from her. Jack then took his money pouch from his pocket, slipping some coins into hers. Pocketing it again, he wrapped the rest of his cord over his shoulder. Finally, he took the clawed gloves from his bag, setting them aside, and stuck the small knife into the ground by the bag before picking the gloves up and putting them on. "Follow the river downstream until it leads out of the forest. It will be a three-day trek, but you should wind up near a town. Get some new clothes, and find a way to make a living. That's all I can do for you."

He turned away, walking into the trees. If she chose to use the bow on him, that was fine. He rightly didn't care anymore. And that would only serve to confirm one fact.

He would still be alone, as he had always been.

[.ϾђɑɍĮόϯϯɛ.]

-A bit of light came into her eyes, although the fire had been put out, and the darkness was creeping upon them. She dared only to look at him, half-heartedly, because she was sure that this was just some cruel trick. And yet, when her eyes settled upon him, she found that she was merely looking at his back as it disappeared into the thick of the brush. He was leaving her—and much better off than when he had first found her, so she couldn’t complain. Although, she wanted to, she wanted to demand an answer to why he would put her through this in the first place! Thankfully he was gone before she could yell after him, and only after she had time to better think about what she would have said. Why poke at a vicious beast with a stick when it was turning and walking away?

She waited for sometime before she finally moved. A small hand snatched the dagger from where it had pierced the ground. A tight hold on the handle promised little in the way of defense, especially when it was in the hand of someone completely inexperienced with weapons. But at the very least she had a means by which to fight and a means by which to try and defend her own self, even if it was a hopeless struggle.

He told her how to get to the nearest town and she made a mental note of it. However, as far as tonight was concerned she highly doubted that she would be making any sort of distance. Weariness spread through her body and coursed through her veins like mercury—weighing her down. Gently that small frame of hers settled to rest, back pressed against the rough surface of a tree’s roots. There were still a few embers burning dimly and to these she added what little twigs and firewood she could find. It wasn’t long before there was a small but warm fire burning. Still, she clung to the small dagger, holding it close to her naked chest under the heavy cloak.

In all the world that little dagger and that little fire was all she had to her name. It was much less than most people, and yet so much more than she had ever truly had.-