Da-dada-da-dah-dah-Dah!
I present Chapter 3, enjoy!
Note: I do not, and most likely will not ever own Naruto.
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When I see my stalker in the fading twilight, I feel my jaw drop, because in front of me is the largest, well, I don't know what exactly, I have ever seen. The thing looks to be slightly larger than the average bear, but the resemblance ends there. The body is a bit too long for that of a bear, more like an oversized wolverine with the length of the body and the thick, glossy brown fur that seems waterproof against all the snow. However, the beast's legs are longer than that of a normal wolverine, and the animals face almost perfectly resembles that of a wolf. The creature stands there, staring at me with large dark eyes, looking at me with what I could only imagine to be a look of curiosity. Or, perhaps it is thinking 'Oh, where do I start tearing her apart first?'. Nope, this is simply not a good day for me, I think to myself as my eyes become fixated on the face, flicking between the dark amber eyes and the sharp looking teeth. Slowly I pull my knife out of the pouch, only to freeze up when the animal emits a low growl. "Come on- this can not be how things end. There must be something…" I murmur to myself, taking a quick look back to the river. It can't be more than a hundred feet away at this point. But if there is one thing I have heard about wolves, it is that they are more likely to leave you alone if you stand your ground and don't move. However, this is not the average wolf, if it is in fact a wolf. If it is a bear, I could wave my arms to make myself look bigger, but I feel as though this would not work, and trying to outrun a bear is stupid unless you're going uphill. And while wolves specialize in long distance running, wolverines are usually vicious, quick killers.
I stand there, feeling like an idiot for not running, waiting for the creature to go away. However, all it does is watch me silently, neither getting closer or walking away. By now it is night, dark, with only the moonlight to go on, and I really sense the disadvantage I have- the creature can probably see me perfectly, where as I can barely see past my hands, and its only the glowing eyes that tell me where it is. Even worse, it is getting cold, and I can feel it through my clothes, and I rub my hands against the rest of my body while tapping my feet, trying to keep the blood flowing and stay warm. "You know, you can just let me be and head out. I mean, I don't normally mind the company, but you see, I kind of have some things to do." I tell it, and the animal tilts its head, but otherwise does not budge. "Trust me, I am not trying to be rude, but I kind of want to try and walk over there," I pause, pointing to the river with my thumb. "Because you see, I need some water and somewhere to start a fire, because I am kind of freezing to death right now. However, my problem is that you are here, and I imagine that the moment I take one step anywhere, you'll decide to chase after me, and since you have the longer legs, I am positive that you would win that race. And while I am sure you would not mind bringing home dinner for the family, I kind of have problems with that. So, if you can understand me in the slightest, would you mind doing me a favour and just giving me a shot to live? If you come to the river in the morning and find my frozen corpse, by all means do what you will. Just please give me a chance- it would be a whole lot more than what that bastard Hamish and the rest of the Town Council did for me. And all for a bunch of wives tales and rumours, demons my- ugh…" I mutter, groaning internally at the fact that I am talking to animals now, begging for them to spare me. I have reached a new low, well, maybe not quite as low as being a hobo, but it's somewhere in that vicinity, next to being a nut job.
So of course, because I nicely asked the wolf-wolverine-bear creature to let me be, it decides to take a few steps forward, and then plop itself on the ground, looking almost amused at my plight. Holy Shit, I can feel its hot humid breath near my face, it is that close. If I had any guts, and I was a cute little kid, I would be able to pet it. "Thanks." I reply sarcastically, pulling out my nearly empty water canteen to take a sip, wishing that it was hot tea instead, or even that creamy brown hot chocolate that they sell in the cities and towns...oh god that was good. And before I know it I am imagining every good thing I have ever eaten in my short life, feeling my mouth water at the thought of it. Freshly baked bread, fluffy and light, lathered in melted butter, or the sourdough twists with salt and herbs. Fat ripe apples cooked in honey and sweet wine, and then served atop slices of toast and brie. Turkey, roasted until golden and stuff with walnuts and cranberries. Venison stew, drowning in its own delicious gravy with potatoes to sop up the remains. Hot winter soup, with whatever can be put in and allowed to simmer for hours, allowing the delicious aroma to fill the air: potatoes, carrots, chicken or a partridge, bit of onion and turnip, even beans or wild rice can't go amiss, and a little herb bouquet. "Pear tart." I quietly mumble, remembering that perfect sweet flaky crust, the chocolate lining, the thick yet light custard filling, and the lusciously caramelized pears on top, and I hear myself groan at the thought. God, kill me now, just let me die and eat all the pear tart that exists in the afterlife, if such a thing is possible.
The creature's growling wakes me up quickly from the fantasy, and my hold on the knife tightens, but I don't do anything but say "Hm, well if the last thing you had eaten was a half moldy biscuit, you would have cravings too. And to set the record straight, that pear tart was the most heavenly thing I have ever tasted- the fact that I got it for free only sweetened the deal." The growling stops, but the animal stares at me curiously, as though not quite such what to make of my statement. "I didn't steal it, if that's what you are thinking. I may be a lot of things, but I am not a thief, well, at least rarely…but that was one time, and I paid the mayor back in full for it! And I still feel horrible about that incident, not the point. Anyways, I was working in a bakery in a town, pretty far out from here, and ever day I was surrounded by the most beautiful smelling breads and pastries in existence. Hell, I even got to bake them. But I didn't really have the money to buy such things, you see. However, one day Hans, he owns the bakery, is clearing out the display area, and I hear him groan. Some of the goods didn't sell, and he doesn't like leaving things out longer than a few days, so he normally splits the remains to the employees. That day though, I was the only one left in the shop, so the two of us split the goods- I got two loaves of bread, a fat brioche, and the only pear tart left. It was a good day. But if I don't get out of here, I won't ever get the chance to taste it again." I say softly, watching the creature's eyes lull about half closed. It is clearly bored.
I start running towards the river as though the devil was on my back. I don't even bother looking back, knowing that it won't take more than a few seconds for the creature to shake the sleep out and start chasing after me. But that is all the time I need- I am a sprinter by nature, and before I blink I'm out of the woods and into the dry bed area around the river, which is surprising flowing quite fast, considering the ice must have melted only recently. The swollen river is probably at least twice my height in width, which means the chances of me being able to jump all the way across it are next to none. I don't really mind that though, I contemplate as I hear the creature on my heels. I only have to hope that the creature can't swim. "Here goes everything." Mumble before jumping over the remaining few inches of earth and hurling myself into the space between the sky and the river. For a moment the world seems frozen, just me floating in the air mid jump, praying that the current is not as fast as it appears to be as I begin my descent into the river. And like that, I'm under the water, my breath forced out of my lungs by the icy water that completely engulfs me. The current is strong, but not as strong as I had expected, and when I hit the stony bottom, I push off with my feet and burst into the surface.
Coughing out the water, I try to gulp in the cold air while swimming to the opposite shore, and when I drag myself onto the sandy ground, I instantly realize the stupidity of my choice. Yes, the creature appears to be nowhere to be seen, which hopefully means that it has decided to leave me alone. Yet my clothes are soaking wet, and will likely freeze in this weather, giving me no insulation and allowing myself to turn into an icicle. I quickly tug my jacket off, looking for something to burn and start a fire with, but the trees on this side of the river are not nearly as plentiful. I manage to collect a few branches and a bunch of dried up grass though, and after a few tries, the fire starter catches, and tiny orange flames consume the grass and eventually start eating the branches. I surround my tiny fire with river stones, but I doubt that it will spread, considering that on the sandy shore there is nothing to burn but a few damp logs and some brush. I put my jacket by the fire to dry off, and then lean as close to the fire as I dare without burning myself, trying to keep my hands and feet from becoming cold. I have seen what happens to people who let frostbite get to their hands and feet- the skin goes black, the flesh dies, and it is ultimately chopped off. Of course, I didn't actually see it happen in the process, only the results- no one in their right mind would let me anywhere near a medical procedure. But I have seen the scars, the lumps of swollen red flesh where a hand used to be, or the folks who hobble around with one leg after losing a foot. I don't wish to be added to that bunch of jolly, decrepit souls.
My mind hazily goes over things, mostly in regards to what to do tomorrow and what I would be willing to do to have a warm blanket and a fresh loaf of bread. Tomorrow I will have to follow the river- people always gather around sources of water, and eventually I should come across a town or something. If I can, I should see if there are fish in the river, so that I might to able to trap them in a shallower section and then cook up. Otherwise, I will have to suffice with cattails, which, well, they will be better than nothing. Provided I survive the night- who knows if I will wake up if I go to sleep now. 'If I live, I live. If I die, I die. But if I die, I expect to receive my pear tart when I wake up." I grumble to myself as I curl up beside the fire, waiting for sleep to overcome me. And for the first time all day, something that I hope for happens, and before I realize it I am off to dreamland.
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The downside of dreams is that strange things often occur in them, things that you would normally think 'What the hell?' if you saw them in real life, but when you are dreaming seem like no big deal. For example, at the present moment, I am seemingly sitting atop a gigantic yellow caterpillar, who seems perfectly content with letting me sit on his back. The caterpillar, whose name is George, is urging me to watch as his friend Martin the Horax, who resembles an giant skunk with the arms of a squirrel and the head of a goat, continue to feed a wrinkly turtle a bunch of pear tarts. The turtle, who both Martin and George refer to as 'Old-Jasper-Jabber-Jaw', begs for no more as he cries tears on his dirty, crumb covered face, but as soon as the words are spoken, Martin stuffs another tart into his mouth. Finally 'Old-Jasper-Jabber-Jaw' is seemingly swallowed up by a mysterious hole in the ground, which turns out to be a giant talking plant with purple and orange spots on its 'head', which then obnoxiously demands to be fed. Martin feeds the plant all of the tarts, but then the plant decides to eat Martin instead, and George groans as Martin is slowly being devoured. "I have never enjoyed comedy." I nod, understanding his taste. "I myself prefer drama and romance." I tell him, and George looks up at me with his eyes spinning behind the rose coloured glasses, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Tragedy, my dear, is where all the best stories lie." He says in his silky bass voice.
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BANG!
That is what I hear when I wake up, the crashing of metal against stone, as though someone dropped an oversized coin on the floor and allowed it to spiral with the WHIR WHIRSH SWIRSH SIWER WR WIR WR sound it makes before falling flat on its face. I open my mouth to scream, but my hand reaches the mouth first, effectively shutting the noise out, well, most of it at least. Hearing the loud shouting, I open my eyes to expect a search party or a gangs of thieves standing above me, but find nothing but a stone ceiling. "What?" I blurt out, removing my hand from my mouth in surprise. I am lying in probably the most comfortable bed I have ever slept on, with clean ivory sheets and the softest mattress ever. The pillows, well, there are about ten too many for my liking, but I will let it slide. I pull myself into a sitting position where I have my second revelation of the day- I am not wearing my clothes, but instead a plain nightgown that's a few sizes to long for me. I look around in awe, noting the red velvet carpet over the stone floor, the various cabinets and shelves to store things, a giant fireplace cheerfully burning away, and the large window which is letting rays of bright sunshine in the otherwise slightly dark room.
I spy my sack on the nightable, and I grab it and place it on my bed, looking through to see where my clothes are. I find instead my notebook, the pages damp but otherwise unharmed, a quill with a half empty jar of ink, my empty canteen, an old shirt that I vaguely remember packing as a pillow, my change purse, and wood that I was trying to whittle like Cliff showed me. Not only are my clothes missing, but so is my knife, I think as I scan the room for anything else before remembering, and I place my hand around my neck until I feel the tattered string of beads around my neck, and I sigh in relief. At least I didn't lose everything, if there is a bright side, and with that I get to work finding some shoes and pants.
After going through an endless amount of exquisite and somewhat ridiculous looking dresses, I finally find a pair of plain black cotton breeches and a pair of riding boots, which are a tad too uncomfortable for my liking, but it will do. Throw on my shirt, which is just a plain long sleeve, and pull my hair into a messy braid, and I am ready. For what I am ready for, I have absolutely no idea. "So what to do now…" I think aloud before sliding my bag over my shoulders, walking towards the wooden door, which seems to be the only way out of the room, and once unbolted I push it gently open, to come across a long stone corridor. "Yes…this will be easy to navigate." I mutter as I leave the door open and starting walking to the left side, which seems brighter with all the windows letting in at least some light. My footsteps echo lightly across the stone floor, and the further I walk, the louder the shouting becomes, and I feel that I will be meeting my gracious host's fairly soon, based on the various shouting noises. When I reach the first splitting in the hall, the directions spanning in four way, I take the stairwell down to my right, and quickly walk down them to find myself in a large main hall, which is largely unoccupied, save for one person, who is quickly striding across it and through an arc towards a different section of the, er, whatever building this is.
Clearing my throat, I suck in a deep breath before speaking. "Excuse me? Could you pl-" I start to say when the person turns around, and I see that it is a woman, although not much older than me, yet one of the tallest woman I have ever seen. Granted, I am not exactly tall by any standard, but she is certainly as tall as Cliff, who is the tallest in the village. Wearing a dark brown skirt and a purple shirt, she looks very beautiful, even though I doubt she has any make up what so ever. The only thing that makes me do a double take are the large red markings on her cheeks, and the dark thin pupils in her eyes that reminds me of a cat.
The woman stares at me, mild surprise evident on her face, and I take my moment to finish my thought. "Are you the owner of this place?" I ask, and she blinks a few times before shaking her head. "No… so you are the girl that Kiba found. I'll take you to Tsume." She says, pausing for a moment before strolling the way she had come before, her brown hair swishing in its ponytail, and I try to match her stride as I catch up to her. "I'm Hana, by the way." she says, giving me a quick look, the corners of her mouth turned up, and I give her a half smile of my own. "I am R-Ava, nice to meet you." I reply, and as we step through the tall gothic stone arches and towards the host, I shed the remains of Ren Kyra, the lonesome blacksmith apprentice, and I become Ava Boudreau, the mysterious stranger.
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Excellent, so that's that. Read and Review, please and thanks!
