Chapter One
Fynnagan ran through the trees. She could feel little beads of sweat sliding down her smooth skin. She was running as fast as she could. Even with her outstanding coordination, she wasn't always straight on. Her foot slammed in front of a large rock and she fell into the unwelcoming slush of the mud. She shot her sturdy hands, built from lots of hard work, in front of her, and pushed herself up. She got on her feet, scraping the brown goo from of her eyes and resumed her sprinting.
After quite a bit of running, she put on an extra burst of speed as she passed from the forest into the moor. She was being chased by a ranger. The Ranger Corps were people who mastered stealth, archery, and knivery. But they rarely had to use their saxe knives anyway. Rarely anyone ever got close enough for them to have to use them. Usually they just got shot by the rangers bow.
About half an hour ago, Fynn was in a black, old wool cloak, which was brown and provided somewhat good camouflage. She snuck into the store in the middle of the night. She was amazing with lock picking doors, and that is exactly what she did with the bakeries door. She slowly opened the creaking door. Fynn grimaced with ever creak the old dull brown door gave. She softly stepped onto the ground with her leather boots. The boots were the same color as her hair. She had long mousy hair and had a sharp nose (but not literally pointy), and a gray-dark blue eye mixture. She was well built from all the hard work she gave around the farm, and built many things like sheds and tree-houses.
Fynn slipped into the room with small breads. She slipped 3 or 4 into her small basket. She glided along the shadows till she reached the old door. She stared at it. She scraped her memory until she suddenly remembered. She left the door open. The door was closed. Fynn clenched her hands into fists and through a punch behind her. She made contact with another person. The person was about the same size as her, so the person was probably the same age as her, fifteen. She ran outside not caring that the door creaked.
Fynnagan started running down alleyways and pushing over things so she could slow down her pursuer. She looked behind her and saw the black cloak. He was a ranger!
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