NPOV:

Another chilled wind caused Elena to shiver in her dark cellar.

Her capturer, her own uncle, had not even been amicable enough to lend her a fur blanket or coat to keep her warm. Elena closed her eyes, and felt the icy air sting her throat as she inhaled deeply; trying to forget the tragic situation she was in. I few nights ago, Elena was a princess, with her loving parents and charming brother. A few nights ago, Elena had a warm bed to sleep in, and a plentiful feast to feed off of every night and moon.

But now, she was cold, hungry, and her family was dead, murdered, by her own uncle, Sir Klaus.

Elena had never been very fond of her uncle, Klaus, but he never seemed to ever have the mind to murder his own brother, and his family. Tears brimmed at the corner of Elena's tired eyes at the realization of her family's disposal, and she wrapped her arms around her thinning figure, and let the last of her tears fall. She had cried so much, in which even her tears were running low.

The cellar Elena was curled up in was a tower that was outside, even though the castle had indoor cellars; Sir Klaus had placed Elena outside.

"Grow fond of the cold, little niece," Sir Klaus had recited. "For you shall learn to know the cold wind as your only companion." With that, Sir Klaus had smiled wickedly, and closed the cellar door on Elena. That was the last time Elena saw anyone, which was two nights ago.

Elena had thought many o' times of how to escape from the chilly room, but her attempts at accomplishing her plans had always failed. She had tried to bang her shoulder against the cellar door to see if any brute force would loosen the old door, but nothing had happened except for Elena getting a nasty bruise the next day. She had even been desperate enough to try to make a hole in the wall by using the wooden chair that was in the room, and throwing it against the wall. Elena concluded that she did that only out of her frustration, rather than an attempt out of the room.

Elena was about to slam her head against the wall when she heard a man's voice draw closer to her.

"-he wants to get rid of the lady tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Aye. Sir Klaus's orders I to bring the little lady to him."

Elena felt her spine grow numb, and her blood turn cold.

Get rid of the lady tonight.

Tonight.

Elena felt her heart beat nearly out of her chest, and panic soon crept up on her. She didn't want to die, at least, not at the hands of her insidious uncle. Elena immediately began to search the room for any possible sign of escape, even though she had previously already done so. Then, Elena saw the small window up near the top of the room's wall where the cold air had been hitting her.

It was tall up, but she remembered the wooden chair. Foolish of Sir Klaus to leave a chair for me to climb my way out of here, Elena thought with a slowly growing hope. Elena then dragged the chair over to the wall, and with shaking limbs, climbed on top of the seat and up to the ledge of the window. Using the last of her strength, Elena pulled herself up onto the windows ledge and peered down to see she was only about two stories up.

"pity such beauty should be wasted." Elena turned; hearing the men's voices grow closer. Panic rose in her chest, and she made the ultimate decision to jump.

Closing her eyes, Elena leaned forward, and let her body fall. Goosebumps rose on her skin and her a moment, Elena thought she was flying, but then reality set in as her body slammed into the floor with a horrible, "thud". A rippling stab of pain vibrated from her ankle, and she cried out into the all too quiet night. The night's darkness would come to Elena's aid as she slowly got up, and began limping towards the forest entrance.

Shouts started to erect from within the tower, and Elena knew the men had found her cell empty. Sir Klaus would soon send men to find her.

Ignoring the pain from her ankle, Elena picked up her pace and began to run. Exhaustion and pain was right behind Elena, and she feared that she'd faint from her tiredness, but her will to survive kept her running. The sound of men shouting and hooves against the ground encouraged Elena to keep going, even when her lungs felt as if they were on fire, and her legs grew numb. When she could no longer move her legs, Elena dragged her way further into the forest. Elena's eyes soon started to grow heavy, and her body suddenly resisted any type of movement. Knowing she should keep going, Elena attempted to keep going, but exhaustion urged Elena to rest. With a tired sigh, Elena pulled herself near a bush, listened to the sound of crickets singing, and let her dreams flow quietly to her mind. Her last thought was whether or not she would live to see the sunrise the next morning.

Damon Salvatore grinned at the sight before him. His arrow stuck straight out of the doe's neck; and instant kill. With his muscled body, Damon effortlessly lifted the doe and carried it over to his wooden wagon that was headed with his dark stead, Midnight. The horse was graving on the small growths of herbs nearby as Damon tied the doe onto the back of the wagon. Today was colder than usually, and Damon tugged his long coat closer to his body as he made his way over to Midnight, readjusting his bow and quiver around his shoulder as he went.

"Alright, my noble stead, homeward we go," Damon proclaimed to Midnight. The dark horse raised his head at the sound of his rider's voice and gave a quick snort, as if in agreement. Damon then climbed up onto Midnight, and gave the stead a quick kick with his heals, signaling Midnight to begin to trot. Immediately, Midnight began to trot steadily and the wagon lurched into action. Damon listened to the reassuring sound of the night; crickets singing, the sound of a stream running somewhere in the distant, his horses' hooves against the forest floor. Night had always been Damon's favorite part of the day, ever since he was small. Something about the way the lights in the sky casted beauty among the darkest sky amused Damon, and he always found peace at this time.

Damon then, out of habit, began to sing a song he had known for year.

"Take my wooden quiver, my dear,

Don't fear its figure now,

For death is only a stride away,

So use it with glee.

Take me further into the night, my dear,

For my heart has already seen it's darkness before,

For I have lived in constant fear,

So don't hesitate to flee,"

Damon was about to sing the next verse, until Midnight suddenly stopped abruptly. Damon gently kicked the horse forward, but he stayed still.

"Midnight, go forth already," Damon grumbled. In response, Midnight snorted. Damon was about to role his eyes when Midnight suddenly lurched forward, and lowered his head to the ground near a large bush.

"No, stead, it's not time to feed-" Damon felt his voice stop in his throat. In front of him where Midnight stood, was a woman's figure in a dirty, red dress, and was curled up in a fetal position. Midnight sniffed the lady's hair, and then looked back at a shocked Damon, looking at him as if waiting for something.

After a couple of seconds, Damon climbed off his horse, still starring at the woman lying near the bush. He approached the lady slowly, and even in the dark, Damon could see how beautiful she was. Chestnut hair, rosy cheeks, almond eyes. Her beauty caused Damon's heart to beat loudly in his chest, for he had not seen such beauty in all his life. Mesmerized, Damon bent forward once her reached the lady's side, and dragged some hair out of her face. As he fingertips brushed her face, Damon flinched at how warm her skin was.

Fear grew in Damon's chest that she had been taken with fever, but the uneven rise, and fall of her chest told him she was still alive, but she was still ill. Even though he was confused as to why such a fair lady would be out in the middle of the forest, Damon knew he had to get her warm before the fever did take her. Damon pulled his cloak off from his shoulders, and wrapped it around the woman's small frame. He then lifted her into a cradling position, and carried her over to the wagon. Remembering from his past that body heat could help a person with fever, Damon got into the back of the wagon with the lady still in his arms, and settled down near where Midnight stood at the front. Damon then slapped Midnight on the rear, and the stead then began to trot forward.

Damon took a moment to examine the lady he had in his arms. Sweat beaded her forehead, and every couple of moments, her body would shake and shiver, a clear sign of illness. Damon pulled his cloak closer to the woman's body, and clung her closer to his body, hoping she would make it until they reached camp. He rested his head on the woman's, and smelled her hair.

Rosemary. It was dim, but it was there. It was intoxicating, and Damon took another deep sniff, and closed his eyes. Rosemary soap is hard to come by, so she has to be wealthy, Damon thought. The dress on her was made of cotton and silk, another sign of her wealth.

Damon was brought out his thoughts when the woman shivered harshly again. She moaned hoarsely, and her eyebrows scrunched up in pain. The sight of the gentle angel in distress caused Damon to feel a spike of sadness within him, and he was confused at first for his sudden blossom of feelings for this strange lady, but he ignored the thought, and desperately tried to warm her.

For some reason, Damon glanced at the dead doe next to him, and suddenly thought of how similar the woman and the doe were. Beautiful, graceful, and hunted. Women like the one in Damon's lap were in jeopardy around animals like men. Damon grimaced at the thought, and held the doe haired angel closer, hoping that his warmth might be enough to keep the chillness of the night from taking away the hunted woman in his arms.

Review if you guys want more, otherwise I'll stop here :( But I hope you liked it! I've already written the rest of the story, so if you guys want more, than more will come!