I'm Sorry it took so long to crank out this chapter. I kind of ran dry for
a while and couldn't write for crap. Plus, I was violently ill for about
one week. When I say "violently ill" I mean pink eye, strep throat, a
really awful and gross nasal infection, and a really bad ear infection as
well. Maybe the ear thing goes with the nasal thing, but I don't care,
really. I can't answer your reviews for this week, which I am sorry to say,
but I promise that I'll review every single one next chapter, even if it
takes me three pages. (Which it probably will.)
Ok, it's time for a good-luck rhyme! Um, Furthermore, it's chapter four! Hee hee.
Isabelle ran off into the dark, cold forest, hugging the fur mantle to her. She was running blindly, not knowing where she was going, and the only thought that was in her mind was to get as far away from the castle as possible before her father discovered her absence and sent hunters out after her.
She was growing tired. Her breaths became shallower, and her cheeks were getting flushed. She ripped off the cloak despite the howling wind. Her legs began to ache, and her mind was telling her to rest. But she plodded on, putting one foot in front of another.
Finally, after she felt like she had been trudging through the woods for what seemed like eternity, she saw the sun peek shyly over the horizon. It was daybreak, and Isabelle knew that was her cue to rest. Half dead from exhaustion, she pulled her mantle over her, climbed a tree and curled up in it. The moment she was settled she shifted right into a deep and dreamless sleep, not even moving. Nothing could disturb her; if the world was coming to an end she might have just slept right through it.
***
However, she had to wake sometime. And later that day was the time. She was awoken by the sounds of voices below her.
She suddenly panicked. Who could it be? Did they see her? Were they her father's hunters? Millions of dreadful thoughts raced through her head in a matter of seconds. She thought of hundreds of ways to respond to the situation, but ended up settling on the sensible decision of staying put, not saying anything, and moving as little as possible. She listened in on the voices.
"I haven't the faintest idea what it is," one voice, obviously male, said confusedly. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Do you suppose it's alive?" asked another voice. "I think it's breathing."
Isabelle held as still as ever.
"Why don't we see?" the first voice said. "John, poke it with your gun."
Isabelle did not want to be poked by anything, especially a gun. She panicked once more. Maybe she could run. No, she immediately thought, they might shoot me. She could stay still. Maybe if she didn't move they might move on and forget about her.
No such luck. She felt the sharp jab of the gun, so hard she started to lose her balance. Teetering, she tried to regain her balance but it was of no avail. She fell to the cold, hard ground and yelped, right in front of the hunters.
"What do you suppose it is, John?" asked one of the two men, leaning in cautiously, causing Isabelle to recoil.
"No idea, Charles." Replied John, eying Isabelle. "It looks like a girl."
"Hello?" asked the other man, rather loud and slowly. "Can you understand me?"
"Of course I can, you bloke, I'm not deaf." She snapped, getting up. Apparently, this quite surprised the two men, for it was their turn to recoil.
"Y-you can talk?" stuttered John, in shock.
"Amazing, isn't it?"
"Where did you get a cloak like that?"
"What, this old thing?" she paused, quickly thinking up a gut-wrenching story. "It was the only thing my parents left me before they…they…died." she managed to squeeze out a tear. "They died right after I was born, and I had to sell all of our possesions to live. This is all I have left in the world." She held up the cloak, covered with bits of leaves from her fall.
"Poor girl." Clucked Charles, shaking his head. "You look hungry." In fact, Isabelle really was. She put on her most pathetic face and nodded her head. "How would you like a job working in the kitchens of King Robert's castle?"
Isabelle thought. King Robert. She must be in the Kingdom of Caputo, also in the province of Manton as with her own father's kingdom. She had run about thirty miles, she thought surprisingly. But she was safe. King Robert and her father weren't exactly best friends.
"Caputo." She quietly repeated to herself.
"What was that?" asked John.
"Oh, nothing." she said in a phony wavering voice. "Yes, I would be very grateful if I could have a job in your kitchens. I could never ask for more."
"Very well then," Charles smiled benevolently, "Follow us."
Quietly, she let them lead her out of the woods.
"You must be very tired." John said. "You can have a room at the castle."
"A room?" she said, trying to sound in disbelief. "I've only stayed in a room once in my whole life. It was like heaven." She congratulated herself on her convincingness; she was almost in real disbelief.
"Then I am sure you'll like it here." Charles said almost father-like. "By the way, what's your name, dear?"
"Cat-skin." She said after a moment. "Cat-skin."
Ok, it's time for a good-luck rhyme! Um, Furthermore, it's chapter four! Hee hee.
Isabelle ran off into the dark, cold forest, hugging the fur mantle to her. She was running blindly, not knowing where she was going, and the only thought that was in her mind was to get as far away from the castle as possible before her father discovered her absence and sent hunters out after her.
She was growing tired. Her breaths became shallower, and her cheeks were getting flushed. She ripped off the cloak despite the howling wind. Her legs began to ache, and her mind was telling her to rest. But she plodded on, putting one foot in front of another.
Finally, after she felt like she had been trudging through the woods for what seemed like eternity, she saw the sun peek shyly over the horizon. It was daybreak, and Isabelle knew that was her cue to rest. Half dead from exhaustion, she pulled her mantle over her, climbed a tree and curled up in it. The moment she was settled she shifted right into a deep and dreamless sleep, not even moving. Nothing could disturb her; if the world was coming to an end she might have just slept right through it.
***
However, she had to wake sometime. And later that day was the time. She was awoken by the sounds of voices below her.
She suddenly panicked. Who could it be? Did they see her? Were they her father's hunters? Millions of dreadful thoughts raced through her head in a matter of seconds. She thought of hundreds of ways to respond to the situation, but ended up settling on the sensible decision of staying put, not saying anything, and moving as little as possible. She listened in on the voices.
"I haven't the faintest idea what it is," one voice, obviously male, said confusedly. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Do you suppose it's alive?" asked another voice. "I think it's breathing."
Isabelle held as still as ever.
"Why don't we see?" the first voice said. "John, poke it with your gun."
Isabelle did not want to be poked by anything, especially a gun. She panicked once more. Maybe she could run. No, she immediately thought, they might shoot me. She could stay still. Maybe if she didn't move they might move on and forget about her.
No such luck. She felt the sharp jab of the gun, so hard she started to lose her balance. Teetering, she tried to regain her balance but it was of no avail. She fell to the cold, hard ground and yelped, right in front of the hunters.
"What do you suppose it is, John?" asked one of the two men, leaning in cautiously, causing Isabelle to recoil.
"No idea, Charles." Replied John, eying Isabelle. "It looks like a girl."
"Hello?" asked the other man, rather loud and slowly. "Can you understand me?"
"Of course I can, you bloke, I'm not deaf." She snapped, getting up. Apparently, this quite surprised the two men, for it was their turn to recoil.
"Y-you can talk?" stuttered John, in shock.
"Amazing, isn't it?"
"Where did you get a cloak like that?"
"What, this old thing?" she paused, quickly thinking up a gut-wrenching story. "It was the only thing my parents left me before they…they…died." she managed to squeeze out a tear. "They died right after I was born, and I had to sell all of our possesions to live. This is all I have left in the world." She held up the cloak, covered with bits of leaves from her fall.
"Poor girl." Clucked Charles, shaking his head. "You look hungry." In fact, Isabelle really was. She put on her most pathetic face and nodded her head. "How would you like a job working in the kitchens of King Robert's castle?"
Isabelle thought. King Robert. She must be in the Kingdom of Caputo, also in the province of Manton as with her own father's kingdom. She had run about thirty miles, she thought surprisingly. But she was safe. King Robert and her father weren't exactly best friends.
"Caputo." She quietly repeated to herself.
"What was that?" asked John.
"Oh, nothing." she said in a phony wavering voice. "Yes, I would be very grateful if I could have a job in your kitchens. I could never ask for more."
"Very well then," Charles smiled benevolently, "Follow us."
Quietly, she let them lead her out of the woods.
"You must be very tired." John said. "You can have a room at the castle."
"A room?" she said, trying to sound in disbelief. "I've only stayed in a room once in my whole life. It was like heaven." She congratulated herself on her convincingness; she was almost in real disbelief.
"Then I am sure you'll like it here." Charles said almost father-like. "By the way, what's your name, dear?"
"Cat-skin." She said after a moment. "Cat-skin."