Anna was loading wood from the bountiful stack outside her small cabin onto the rusty metal cart she used for just about everything, when a primal growl emitted from the dense woods behind her. Slowly, she reached for the hunting knife in its sheath at her waist. It was probably just a mountain lion, attracted by the lights from her cabin. Still, better safe than sorry. A little noise and a good show of force would scare it right off. As Anna turned and cautiously moved towards the forest line, another growl rolled across the clearing. Without warning, a shadowy figure leaped from the trees and knocked her to the ground. She hit the snow-caked ground with a grunt, and the figure crouched over her, hands locked around her throat in an iron grasp. Anna scrabbled at the vice-like grip around her throat for a few moments, coal-black eyes wide with panic, before drawing her fist back and punching the attacker in the face. He, for it was a male, drew back with a howl of pain. Lashing out with her knife, Anna opened a gash across his chest, only to have it close almost instantly. She scrambled to her feet and sprinted for the cabin. A split second before her gloved hand grasped the door handle, she was jerked backwards by her sable braid. Her cry of pain echoed through the glade before it was silenced by three razor sharp blades held across the creamy skin of her throat. Where did the knives come from? All he had on was a pair of tattered military-style pants and some weird helmet thing. Anna's velvety black eyes widened slightly as she realized they were protruding from his fist. He was a mutant! She grinned into the shadows and reached out with her mind, beckoning. The night moved in response to her call, sending shadowy tendrils creeping to Anna's extended hand. Elbowing her attacker in the stomach, Anna whirled around and slammed her shadowed hand against the helmet, shattering it. As her open palm met his now unprotected face, the shadows slithered off of her hand and into his eyes, ears and nose. He stiffened for a moment, then collapsed to the ground.
"Well now what?" Anna muttered, nudging his prone form with the toe of her Wellingtons.
She couldn't just leave him out here, it was below freezing. But she sure as heck wasn't going to let him in her house. The cellar! A couple of blankets, a cot, a lantern, plenty of food, and a nice, fat padlock to keep it shut.
"What have you been EATING?" she grunted, dragging him through the snow towards the cellar doors.
Dumping him on the ground near the cellar doors, Anna plunged her gloved hands into the snow. She was searching for the bucket that held the key to the padlock. After rooting around for a few moments, her near-sodden glove brushed against the handle. With a victorious grunt, Anna freed the small, black bucket from the snow. She popped the lid off and pulled out the dull metal key. Fingers shaking from the damp chill of her gloves, she fumbled with the lock before it accepted the key and clicked open. Anna pulled one of the doors open, then turned to the stocky stranger and slipped her hands under his shoulders.
"Down we go," Anna muttered.