Bodil De Versing, a fresh Witcher of the Cat School. Recently passed the trial of grasses, at Kaer Marter.
Her new life has begun, but is she ready for it?

A thing about Bodil: Se is often bothered with nightmares, and a troublesome past. She hope the trial and the hard training will get her past it, she wants to forget.

Bodils haunted past.

Footsteps. Long, silent footsteps followed by a haunting laughter.
Bodil pushed her knees towards her chest and kept her eyes closed. Silent tears rolled down her cheek while she waited. . .
Truth to be told, she was not waiting, she was hiding.
Under a broken wagon, she witnessed everything.
Pale hands carried torchers, swords or bows. An arrow sang with the wind, before a loud scream killed the song. Everything went so fast, little Bodil did not understand what was going on. Houses burned, men and women were stabbed while they ran, and not even the children were spared.

"Mother! Father!" she cried, and got up. In the far distance she saw her father, bravely fighting for his life. A thick arrow pierced his shoulder before he fell to his knees.
"Run, Bodil. Run as far as you can!" His voice was unrecognizable. Another arrow crushed though his ribs, and he spoke no more.
In shock she just stood there, like a dead tree. Watching the beautiful faces raiding through the village. Nothing were left unharmed. They took everything!
"We never did anything to you", she whispered, but her voice died in the dry wind.
"We were good farmers, all of us."
The fire got higher, as did the screaming. Bodil looked over her shoulder. Her eyes grow larger as she found herself face to face with an unnatural long creature. He smiled as he pulled out his dagger.
"Va faill dh'oine."
"No", she gasped. Without a second thought she pushed him, and ran. The laugher followed her, as did the arrows.

Bodil ran, walked and crawled for hours. The rough road went over rocks and bridges, pass hills and valleys until she finally collapsed under a fallen tree, near the river.
Too exhausted to cry she struggled to catch her breath. The questions running though her head remained unanswered.
She did not understand. How could her ultimate definition of beauty be so cruel?
How could the fairest of the fairest have such an evil laugher? Why did they aim their bows on them? Why did poor, innocent farmers die today?
Bodil cried a loud curse, not carrying if anyone heard her. She was cold, alone and very scared.
Everything was lost and everyone was gone. Everyone she knew lay in a ditch, was trapped in a burning hut, and dangled from a tree or worse.

Bedtime stories. . .
Those bedtime stories she used to love, was nothing but a lie! Those wise, intelligent, beautiful and ancient creatures of this world was nothing like she imagined. They were not wise, they were not calm, they were not respectful, nor nice. They were nothing, but evil!
The elves were evil. . .

Bodil woke up with a scream.
Her hands were dripping wet and so was her hair. She sat up, leaned forward and hid her face behind her palm.
She were back at the School of the cats, safe and sound.