DISCLAIMER: NOTHING IS MINE, DONT SUE ME. I JUST OWN MY OC.

Me so sorry for bad eengrish and grammer. Eengirhs no me first languege. No complaints please.

A short story, seen from two perspectives. I hope you enjoy! :D thanks for reading :3

I FUCKING SUCK AT GIVING TITLES. I HOPE YOU HAVE THE HEART TO FORGIVE ME.

STRANGER IN THE WOODS

She was a rogue Woad, a loner, an outcast, and a traitor to her people. She had been roaming the southern land ever since she ran away from home, far away from the wall the divided the borders. She had been living deep in the woods, and no one had crossed her path since she built her little cottage in the dark woods.

If she counted right, she will turn 28 this winter. She had very pale skin, as she never the woods as it provides all of her needs. She lives quite far away from the river, as rivers attract people. She got her meals from animals that lived in the woods, fruits, and fishes from the river. There is a wider river with a much faster current west of her home, and she would go there to fish, as they are the type of rivers that people avoid.

She had a craving for pheasant that afternoon, and she went to the lighter part of the woods to hunt for them. She squints her eyes, as she is not used to harsh sunlight. She climbed a high tree, preferably with thick and bushy clump of leaves, as it hides her scent, and it is harder for sunlight to penetrate her hiding spot. She had been waiting for what seemed to be hours when she finally saw one. A fat, plump pheasant skilfully glided from a branch to another. It probably has just woken up from its nap, she thought. She got her bow and arrow ready, and took a brown stone from her pocket, and threw it near the pheasant's hiding place, startling it enough to move to another branch, instead of to the sky. As soon as she threw the stone, she pulled on her bow, and shot the bird. But she saw two arrows, one hers, and one other arrow from her opposite direction penetrating the bird.

She gasped, and then didnt dare take another breath. This other archer was as, or even more skilled than her. She stayed as still as a statue, as she heard footsteps coming towards the bird. It seems that the other person didnt know that there were another person taking a shot at the bird, because as soon as he got close to the bird and saw the two arrows, he slowly got his bow ready. He looked at the bird one more time, and then looked directly at her direction. She kept still, although her lungs burn in protest. The man shot at her direction, missing inches from her left arm. She didnt move, but took a breath. The man heard it, and readied her bow again.

She was conflicted, on whether she better told him that she's harmless, or whether she should get her bow ready and fire back. The man walked closer, and she thought he hadn't seen her yet. She saw him, a very beautiful man in his late thirties. He has shoulder length hair, with a few braids in his hair, and the man fashioned a beard. He has eagle protection on his left arm, and she had an idea. She made little eagle noises, and knocked on the tree bark.

The man lowered his bow, and for a moment her trick had seemed to work. He puts his arrow back, and turned around towards the bird. Her legs had begun to ache, and she moved a little to get a better sitting position when the man said, "Come down from the tree and claim your meal, young maiden."

She wasn't expecting that, and her foot lost its grip. She fell from the tree, but luckily she was agile. She caught a branch on her way down, and held on to it. She doesn't want to waste time dangling, as the man had turned around, and she didnt want him to think that she needed help. She swung herself onto the tree bark, and she clambered down. He was taller than she expected, but it could be the boots. She could see that he's one of the knights that she has seen over the years, the one that that legendary Arthur has led.

"You're one of Arthur's knights. The one that owns an eagle." She said, taking a step forward.

He nodded, "They call me Tristan. What do they call you?"

She hesitated, "Eve." She gave him a little curtsy that she saw the country girls were taught to do. He tilted his head a little, but didnt say a thing. She continued, "We struck the bird at the same time, we shall share. I assume that you are bringing this bird back to your comrades?"

He didnt answer, but instead asked her another question, "You saw that we shot it at the same time?"

She nodded, "i threw a stone at it to scare it away, and then i saw an arrow that wasn't mine hit the bird."

He looked surprised, "You have a very great eye."

She didnt answer, and instead she walked over to the bird to pick it up. She took both arrows from it, and gives the arrow that wasn't her back to its owner. He took it, wiped it onto the bird's feathers, and puts it back to his quiver. She did the same thing, and examined the bird. Her arrow went through the bird's heart, as Tristan's arrow went through its stomach. She wondered if the bird felt anymore pain that it should.

Tristan saw what she was looking at, "You shot it right through the heart. It didnt suffer for long."

What he said startled her, as if he had just read her mind. She looked up at him, and he took the bird away from her. "Come. We can share our prey.

She took a step back, afraid of what will happen if she stayed longer. "I—the bird is yours. I shall hunt for another." And she ran away.