AU:
Thank you so much for your guy's support in the first chapter, we thought we'd treat ya to Chapter Two!
You the reader may be thinking; "Where does this leave us going forward with chapters?' And to that we say- we will be publishing the chapters on a bi-weekly basis starting out now. If there are any updates to this schedule, we'll let you know!
We'll try to release it every other Monday 7-8 pm (Pacific Standard Time). So Chapter Three will be released on the 26th of August.
Again let us know what you think of Chapter Three, we love hearing your reviews. :)
Sent with love,
PricelessBread
Gigdet
Astrin
Hours have passed after their argument. The storm that had recently raged through the Frozen Shore finally broke last night, which gave Astrin a chance to be out in the open woods, and not confined to their camp. Today is her Nameday, and it is as if the sky opened up for her, beckoning her to be free to roam. She always wants to be in the open woods, no matter how dark it gets, she has always found them inviting. They couldn't be more than a league away from the Frozen Shore, or so her father had said, but you could still taste the saltwater in the air, however faint it was. Astrin longed for these days out with her father, it seemed to be the only time he was really able to focus on their family, and not worry about the villages or his Trading Posts. However their earlier fight seemed to sour this day for them both.
Astrin walked behind her father, and stood silently while they looked for more prey. The only sounds that distracted from the quiet calm of the forest, were the occasional rustle of countless creatures escaping their peripheral, and their footsteps as they made their way through the recent snowfall.
They caught a few rabbits already, which will make for a good stew. Whatever game they bring home is shared within their camps. As her father and Tormund weren't cooks, that job became designated to a member of their post.
Normally her success overcoming fast prey brought her joy, but today it seemed unimportant. Astrin reckoned this must have been the longest she's been quiet. But after her father's angry outburst, she didn't know how to reason with him at this moment, or revel in their hunt it seemed.
She accepted why he would be cautious; as he was exiled to the wall; he wouldn't be able to come with her on these travels south. But she could not understand why her father was so tempered at her wish to travel at all, and even more upsetting was how he would never tell her why he was irritable about the subject. But as she looked up at him, her resolve began to crumble. Astrin could continue to argue the situation and get nowhere, proving to him she was still a child, or if she suppressed her interest to her father for now, she could persuade him later on. As her father had explained military tactics to her; she could willingly lose this battle to eventually win the war.
Her Uncle is King of Westeros, and Aunt Sansa the Queen in the North, or what Southerners called 'The North', she could not foresee any issues with a few years of travel and new experience before returning to settling down, and then continue her father's work. Perhaps he thought she would never come back to him after travelling? She found this notion rather ridiculous- many of the Freefolk including the Spearwives said the South's air was putrid with the stench of pig shit, and wasting fat Southerners who sit in their stone and mud homes all day. If that is what it's like in the South why wouldn't her father send her there to see how awful it is? She'd most likely spend a day there and race back to their home. The whole situation confusing and irritated her. Astrin let out a sigh before responding-
"Father."
He turned around, looking down at her with guarded eyes.
As if knowing she was about to humble herself, Ghost mysteriously wandered ahead. He seemed to pick up on her and her father's emotions, and at this moment he must have sensed her yearning to not being exposed as a girl begging for forgiveness. After assessing the old direwolf, she drew a long breath.
"I'm sorry for upsetting you, I promise not to ask to go south again…"
Her father raised an eyebrow at that proclamation.
"Never?"
She thought about what she just said, she was always told it wasn't right to lie. But that doesn't mean she couldn't embellish the truth.
" Well-not NEVER. But at least for the time being I'll try to be good."
There was silence, and for a moment she thought he would be angry again. Instead he laughed, not a booming laugh like Tormund, her father's laughter was always gentle, never too loud, or obnoxious, and it always touched his eyes exposing the crows feet that liked to remain concealed.
"You negotiate like a Stark, Little Wolf. I cannot argue with that."
Her apology must have worked, as he went back to calling her by the name he bestowed upon her from a young age. She smiled triumphantly, not masking her victory-when a rustling in the underbrush ahead of them brought them back to the task at hand.
Her father went low, as not to alert what was ahead, Astrin followed suit readying her bow and knocking an arrow in case of a quick flight of the animal. She used these trips to see how her father hunts, taking in all the information she can get until it became second nature. When she watched her father, it was as if the traditions given to him were being passed down to her. She did the same with the Spearwives and Tormund, although he was mostly a drunken ass on hunts. However she would never say this aloud in case her father heard her speak such language. But she does enjoy the stories Tormund would tell her on these hunts, he'd clearly flourish on the details, either to make her laugh or just to plainly boast.
Both her father and Astrin crept towards an opening in the trees where Ghost was waiting for them. About fifteen yards ahead lay a frozen meadow, brushes and small plants were strewn about poking through the snow. Towards the middle was a stag, grazing at the feast of forested plants before him; it was too preoccupied to notice it's demise at the edge of the meadow.
Jon motioned with the hand signals he taught her, he would creep around to the right side of the meadow through the thick line of trees, his final placement would be in the direct line of sight of the stag. So when he bolted, John would be able to take him by surprise. Astrin kept her position with Ghost, keeping her bow loaded and in aim to let her arrow fly once Jon was ready. Astrin focused on her breathing remembering what Elva told her 'light shallow breaths, any beast would hear you panting', her knees grew sore in her crouched position, but if she made this shot, it would be her first ever stag and wouldn't that be the best Nameday gift. She would use the pelt for a new cloak.
She heard her father's best Longspur call; signaling her go ahead. She sat up straighter while still crouching, taking a deep breath to steady herself while pulling the bowstring back.
Suddenly, a loud snapping and growl behind Astrin startled her, the arrow jolted from her bow and sliced through the air- the stag looked up as it whistled right past its rear. As if the stag understood it's fate; it moved farther left of the meadow obscuring it's view from Astrins current position. Just her luck she thought. Snapping her focus away from her failed shot, she looked at Ghost who stared back with innocent eyes. Any outsider would have fallen for this faint expression, Astrin knew better seeing him hind deep in a rustling bush. Astrin tried her best to muffle her groan, and muttered
"Gods be damned, Ghost.."
While giving the oblivious old wolf her best searing glare. He ignored Astrin and went back to hunting for the small prey that must be scurried deep within the confines of the bush.
She turned her attention back to the clearing, it appeared the stag wasn't too spooked by her mishap. As it stayed to the left, still concealed by the trees. She looked over to where she knew her father must be, it would be too far for him to adjust. She waited for a moment to see if he'd retreat back to her position, however no matter how long she waited- there was no sign of his dark silhouette. He must have faith that she can reassess their circumstances, or perhaps its a test of her hunting skills.
Astrin stayed in that spot, pondering what decision she should make. Did her father adapt and move farther away? It seemed unlikely. She didn't hear a secondary bird whistle. Should she move directly behind and go in for the kill? The latter seemed even more stupid than her first thought. Even if she could sneak up on the stag, her strength and bow were not enough to take down the beast. Astrin knew then what she needed to do, she trusted her father would be in the same position, so it would be best to lead their prey into her father's sight. She stood up slightly, making sure to stay close to the ground.
"Ghost, come."
She beckoned with more than a whisper. However it was enough to stir the direwolf away from toying with his prey.
They both started to move west of the meadow, as slowly as possible to make sure they didn't disturb the stag. Every so often she would use a tree as her cover, making sure she wasn't being spotted from the dense forest. Ghost stood by, curious as to what she was doing. He probably thought Astrin was playing a game like when she was little; a time where Ghost used to chase her through the camps until father had to come and break up their ruckus. Mostly due to them trampling through other Freefolks tent sites.
After making it twenty yards or so from their original position, Astrin had a view of her target. She looked to her left where Ghost was standing, even though she is now in her thirteenth year his size still made it that they remained at eye level. She formed her hand into a fist excluding her pointer finger, which pointed straight up within her glove, and raised it to her lips.
"We have to be quiet now, or else we may never have another chance Ghost. Stay. Put."
Astrin emphasized the last part to strain the importance. Understanding her command, he planted his rear onto the ground, remaining stoic. His white fur seemed to dissipate into the snow behind him, the only thing betraying his camouflaged state were his eyes, red as the hottest ember-yet even darker so.
Pleased with Ghost's obedience she turned once more toward the stag, who appeared oblivious to his encounter with Astrin earlier. She started to ready her bow, slowly easing each foot into the snow as she crept towards the cover of a closer tree. Each step felt like a hammer swinging down upon the earth. It somehow synced to the beating of her heart.
Once she made it safely with no disruptions, she took out another arrow, this one just as steady as the first. Knocking the arrow again, Astrin readied herself. She briefly closed her eyes to steady her pounding heart, words from those who trained her raced through her mind. If she could manifest her thoughts, they'd probably best the stags speed in a race.
She thought of the first time she shot a hare. Her father crouching by her side.
"Remember little wolf, breath in when you pull the string back. Then out, when you let go."
She'd do just that, like the countless hunts before. Just as she was ready to draw the string, a rustling occurred behind her.
Astrin turned around to chastise Ghost again- when she saw him still planted to that one spot. Confusion spread across her face when she heard another snap come from her left. A cold shiver ran up her spine. She stood up, a mistake Elva would have scolded her for if she were here. However if something was stalking Astrin, she was already found.
She lifted up her bow with shaking hands to aim towards the direction of where the sound came from. She understood she couldn't make a mistake. Friend or foe, Astrin knew she would have to make the first move. Another sound helped her pinpoint that the noise came from above. Without a second thought, she aimed in the direction of a jutting branch from the tree in front.
Perched atop was a large bird, with silken, ebony feathers. It looked like the type father sent to her aunt and uncle in the south, a raven she believed. However this one did not appear to look like one she's ever seen before. On the front of its face was a deformity above its beak. She lowered her bow with a heavy relieved sigh.
"Oh you awful bird- you scared me!"
It stared down at her with inquisiting eyes, cocking its head to the side as she spoke. Astrin found its curious nature unnerving. She looked around to find a small rock, crouching down to pick one up. She then threw it towards the bird to spook it without any harm. The bird descended from its perch, she watched as it left. Unaware of the fanged beast that lunged directly at her.