Carlisle was stumbling frantically through the thick forest, listening carefully to the trees around him, but all he could hear was his own ragged breathing. He continued to run forwards, slipping and tripping more than once. He was trying desperately to find the strength to carry on running, but every time he thought of Elinor's scream of terror, he was almost paralysed with the helplessness it brought him. He'd been running for what seemed an age and didn't appear to be getting anywhere, he could barely see where he was going, for all he knew he could be running in circles. Worse, he could be running towards whatever took Elinor. The tiniest amounts of sunlight started to shine their way through the highest branches on the trees around him. He kept running forwards, his chest beginning to feel constricted. Finally, the trees around him began to thin out. He was nearing the edge of the forest at least. Where that might be, however, was an entirely different matter.
He emerged surprisingly close to their village, in the main outskirts of London. Passers-by gave him very wary looks as he emerged, exhausted and panting onto the main road. Clearly it was not just their village plagued by these attacks. He waved sheepishly at a woman passing with her child. She hid the child behind her and pulled him away as fast as she could. Carlisle dropped his hand, feeling foolish. He set off home, not particularly looking forward to facing Elinor's father.
Christopher Barling said nothing for a full ten minutes. He was shaking with a hideous fury and glaring with a deep hatred at Carlisle, trying to find words that expressed what he wanted to say. His wife wept soundlessly, curled up in a corner of the room. Carlisle simply stood there, waiting for the attack. There could be nothing Christopher could have to say to him that he didn't deserve. He should not have allowed Elinor to join them on the hunt, they should not have been hunting at night, and he most certainly should not have left her behind in the forest. Those who had returned were leading a search for those who had not, as Elinor was not the only one. Just before he had entered the Barling household, one or two who had been missing returned from the forest, shaken but unharmed. There was no sign of Elinor. Carlisle decided to break the long, painful silence by uttering his apology once more, but he'd barely begun his first words when Christopher raised his hand to silence him.
"Tell me, Nathaniel, will another apology from you bring my daughter back to me?" Carlisle paused.
"No, it will not," he said meekly.
"Then will it undo what you did? Change the ignorant action you took?" Christopher was barely containing his rage.
"No, sir, it won't."
"Then I wonder why you deign to say anything at all," he glared at Carlisle, "and why you are still here rather than out there hunting for my daughter." He didn't know what to say to that. He thought perhaps Christopher was not seeking an answer, so he merely bowed his head, and left.
All those who had gone missing during the hunt had long since returned to the village. All, except one. Carlisle couldn't look Christopher Barling in the eye anymore. He continued on hunts, although during the day this time. He found no trace of her, no trace of anything except themselves. For three unbearably long days he searched for her, waited for her to come back from the forest, prayed for her safe return, but to no avail. He decided to go out on one last hunt, just in case he spotted something he'd missed, or went around that one corner that hid her.
He walked deeper into the forest than before, meandering through the dense trees as best he could. He pushed aside a net of low-hanging branches to find himself in a clearing. The leaves covering the floor had been disturbed in places, and there were dark patches that could have been blood staining the grass. He looked around, welling up, hoping against hope that this blood did not belong to Elinor. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something move. He ran into the clearing to get a better look, and saw nothing but forest. He spun around, thinking perhaps whatever it was had simply moved, but all around there was nothing. He hung his head and grimaced- he had clearly been imagining it, or it was an animal of some kind. He felt anguished, finally having to face the fact that Elinor was not here. She was not coming back. Fighting tears, he headed back to the village.
From the highest branches of one of the tallest trees in the clearing, Elinor cocked her head to one side, and watched.
Carlisle awoke one day to screaming. He rushed out of the house to find half the village already there. Abigail Barling knelt next to the well, clutching to it and sobbing. She shrieked with agony. Carlisle's heart stopped for a moment, thinking perhaps they had found Elinor's body. He walked forwards, going to comfort her, when another man held out his arm to stop him.
"It's her husband, Christopher. He's gone," he said somberly. Carlisle was speechless. He opened his mouth to ask what had happened, but no words came to him. Abigail wailed again, slumping next to the well helplessly. After a few seconds of careful breathing, he found his voice.
"When did this happen?" The man shook his head.
"Nobody is sure. From what we can gather, they went to bed together and she woke up alone. He made no sound, left no trace of himself. We believe he has gone to find his daughter." Carlisle looked puzzled.
"What makes you think that?" The man simply held up a long, blue ribbon. Carlisle recognised it instantly as Elinor's, and reached out for it. "Where was this?" he asked, trying to remember where he had seen it last.
"It was on the bedframe, tied around the top." Carlisle's breath caught in his throat. The last time he had seen this ribbon was when they had left on the hunt. The last time he saw it was the last time he saw Elinor.
The whole village had turned out to speak of the disappearances. They were now incredibly worried that whomever or whatever had been taking people from around the village could now get into their homes without their noticing. Entire families were gathered around a fire in the centre, parents clutching desperately to their children in fear, all of them not knowing what would come next. Some looked to Carlisle in the hope that he had some master plan that would save them- but he had nothing. He could see no way out of their situation. The same man who had handed him Elinor's ribbon stood, angry.
"We cannot allow whatever this creature is to continue to attack us! We must take the fight to it!" Others stood to voice their agreement. Carlisle then rose, seeing the problem with their plan.
"And how, exactly, do we know where it is? We cannot venture into the forest again, that is clearly its territory. No more innocent blood can be spilled over this."
"Clearly then, we must lure it out into the open! Once we have it cornered, we can slay it once and for all!" Carlisle tried to protest but his voice was drowned out over the cheers. The bloodlust was clear, and it made him afraid.