Tyri was an orphan with no home. She never really knew her parents and barely managed to survive in the woods alone. She was fierce and strong, she had to be to survive, but people still scared her. All she wanted was to be left alone. After years o...
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It had hit me that I'd fucked up massively when first my hazel eyes met with his. But more and more evidence of how badly I'd messed up kept piling on top of me. What if he'd followed me? What if he told people about me? The panic began to build in my heart as I thought of more and more people invading my sanctuary.
This had been my home for so long. This was my world. It was sacred. It belonged to me, to nature, to Freyja, and to no one else!
I'd stayed in my cave for the following few days, surviving on the scraps that I'd saved for rainy days. The berries were shriveled, threat dry and salty from my methods of preservation. I yearned to hunt for fresh food but I was too terrified to leave my home.
I had no plan for what to do. It was not my wish to murder the boy but if it came down to his life or my entire way of existence, I would always choose myself. I'd never killed another person before but it seemed no different to killing a boar or a bear to me. Kill or be killed. That was how I lived. To survive in a place like this, one must be ruthless. There was no room for sentiment. And yet, on the day I saw him, I had not tried to kill him. In fact, I'd wanted to walk over and ask him what was wrong.
It had taken a long time, but I had finally convinced myself to leave the confines of my cave. I was running low on food and water and I needed desperately to find more. With my bow on my back beside its partnering arrows, and daggers aplenty strapped to my person, I made my way out into my natural habitat.
As a girl, the woods had always called to me. I'd often wander through them as a child and forage for food. I enjoyed singing to the animals, and watching as the birds and butterflies swooped down to watch. I was one with nature and all of Odin's creations.
"I think we might just be safe, Rat." I smiled as I crouched down to fill my bottle from a spring. I'd boil it over a fire when I got home just to be safe.
She squawked at me disapprovingly, her head shaking as though she was still annoyed at me.
"I know! I know it was stupid of me but it won't happen again. I promise." I smiled, feeding her a scrap of dried meat that I'd kept in my pocket for such occasions.
It was then that I noticed how close we were to the spot where I'd encountered the boy days before. I wasn't sure why, but a certain curiosity leapt out of me. I wished to know more. In fact, I think a part of me wondered if I'd see him again.
I always said that it wasn't lonely out here. I had Rat, and that was all I really needed. But it was lonely. As much as I adored Rat, I wanted to meet other people. I wanted to remember how they lived, to try and talk to one of them. Though it seemed now that I was more animal than human, I never stopped yearning for human contact. Even just someone to talk to.
I made my way towards the small clearing, my footsteps steady and silent. Slowly, I walked closer to the spot. My boots avoided twigs and leaves, stepping on soil and moss instead. No sound came from my movements. I would not be caught again.
When I got there, I was shocked by the sight. Beside the tree that I'd first seen the boy in front of, sat something I found extraordinary. Sat upon a warm fur was a loaf of bread and a quiver of arrows. My eyes widened at the sight.
Rat gave me a judgmental look. She knew how tempting these sights were to me but she also knew it was likely a trap. I pulled out a dagger, holding it firmly in my hand, and approached the clearing. Slowly, I neared the food and supplies, my heart racing. I nearly turned back, but I was already running low on food and supplies and winter was rapidly approaching. I knelt down, my eyes darting around in paranoia, and put the supplies and n my leather backpack.
Suddenly, a noise brought me back into the world of suspicion, and once again my eyes met with that of the boy's.
