Chapter one, AID
The warm sunlight that hung lazily on the horizon brought new light to the day, riding the night and leaving small shadows. Early morning dew collected upon every blade of grass, some slipping off and landing on the ground. The new day rising in liveliness as the first birds awoke, singing their songs to the rising sun. The cool, crisp air and budding flowers signified that summer was now in full swing.
Old rusted metal of a hinge creaked, echoing in the sleepy morning air. Behind the hinges stepped a young ravenette, her fingers curled around the frame of the door as she stepped out, pale digits against the crude paint-like substance she had casted over the entrance.
She wore an open flannel, a tank top lying beneath it. Black pants ripped at the knees and obviously worn out accompanied by mud stained red sneakers.
Picking up the axe that she had rested against the walls of her home the night prior she walked forward, taking her leave into the forest. The sickly sweet smell of pine tree sap pleasantly entering her nose as she moved forward.
She had been alone for what was four years now. She didn't mind though. She found it rather peaceful as she could watch the mysteries of this new world unfold in front of her. Her mind grasping the magical qualities of this world easier than the technological ones back where she was from.
She had no name for this place, untouched by anything but fierce animals and living shadows. The birds watching as she survived, thrived even.
Peacefully she walked over previously trampled grass, the makeshift path lined with rocks of various sizes. The light of the sun flickering onto exposed dirt whilst she walked, taking in the sounds of the forest coming to life as in the distance she could faintly hear the babbling of water.
A crooked sign was passed, it's lettering already fading due to the weather. 'Food and Rest up this path' it read, but no one had ever come across it except herself every day. She expected it though. Impossibly tall mountains were to the north, an expanse of water to the west, land for miles in the other direction that she had yet to explore.
The sound of the brook was much louder and suddenly she found herself in front of it. The steady flow of water moving quickly over rocks and the pebble like sand, turning some up as it crashed upon itself. Hopping down the small hill to the dip in the earth she met before the shallows, casting her gaze to the single trap that held two fish. Their sickly silverish green scales enticing her as she slipped off her shoes and socks, resting them on a stump along with her axe.
And she waded into the chilly water, making her way to the trap and taking the net with her as the fish thrashed lightly. The lower half of her face was outstretched in a grin as she made her way back to the shore, the light pull of the current against her feet.
Tying the net into a tight knot and then putting her shoes back on, warm woolen socks now covering her chilled feet as she stood once more, throwing the axe over her shoulder along with the fish. And then she moved up the hill, following the path once more.
Her mind riddled itself with plans as she walked, 'Winter's coming sooner that I'd like' she thought as another part of her mind played with how to cook and cure tomorrow's dinner. Her eyes remained forward as her mind played with itself, watching as a catcoon scampered up a tree. 'I should start the winter supply again' she thought, passing the sign once more and missing the small difference from earlier. Her feet moving through the needles until they met the softer grass of the meadow.
A soft breeze moved past her as she stepped out of the shadow of the pine trees, the sunlight now beating down onto her shoulders. Goosebumps littered her skin as the mixed temperatures graced her senses, a shudder moving through her body.
She quickly found herself rounding the small cabin and meeting the small excuse of a smokehouse and opening it. A small hutch containing Birchnut wood, more than she'd ever need, stood as she grabbed two logs, tossing them into the old, cool charcoal. She reached for the knife that hung on the side of the smoking device, it's handle made of bone and the blade was a dark slab of metal that was razor sharp on one side.
Setting the knife aside she unraveled the knot and took a fish, forcing it to stay as still as it possibly could and then, without hesitation, she drove the knife straight through the fish, removing its head completely. Its body thrashed for a moment or two before going still.
The other fish however, continued to thrash. Using all of its strength to fight for its life out of the water.
She didn't mind the other as she leaned forward, igniting the wood. Her eyes reflecting the new flickering light of the fire. The world seemed oddly quiet for a moment, the only noise was the wind whispers which she recited over in her head. Sometimes she could hear voices in the wind, but this was different.
Looking to the tree line behind herself she stared at the green and brown landscape. The sun beating down onto her as vigilantly vibrant eyes scanned. A familiar feeling crept up into her as she watched, her lips drawn into a tight line. Her fingers curled tightly around the smooth bone of the knife, her mind wondering if it was those devilish hellhounds. Her last encounter with those foul creatures left a nasty scar on her left arm.
The slight waver of the wind rustling the shrubbery was distracting enough, her eyes already squinting as if to focus better. Green, brown, green, brown, green, brown, green, brown, green, red, gree-
She looked back to the small bit of red coloring in the distance. It was too large to be a bird and there were no other red animals she had stumbled upon. Stepping forward she caught a better sight of the creature.
A man.
He shuffled, his torso bent forward with one arm clutching the bottom of his ribs. He looked pale and even from this distance she could see that he was on his last legs. She quickly found herself sprinting to the figure, dropping the blade and meeting him. She reached out and he collapsed in her arms, the taller figure's head falling into the crook of her shoulder. She wrapped his good arm around her shoulders, effectively hoisting the taller one but her eyes wandered to the crimson stained fabric.
His arm was torn up and looked as if it would need stitches and tentative care. There was the tell tale bite marks of the hounds. Her heart wretched as she moved forward, her mind raced as they met the gate.
It had been two hours or so sense she had brought this man into her home. She stood in the bedroom doorway and watched him stir, his lips turning into a grimace before relaxing once more, quivering. His fingers would twitch for a moment before stilling too, digging into the thin quilt she laid out for him.
She turned from the doorway and entered the main room. The soft sound of the fireplace crackling brought light to the pot that sat above the flame. Water turned to steam which brought a delightful aroma to the air. Carrots, potatoes and other vegetables she had planted in the yard in front of the house mixed in a turkey broth, bits of meat added with the crude excuse of pasta noodles. The shape was nothing like the egg noodles she had grown up with, their different sized rectangular shapes were odd, but they tasted all the same.
It was no chicken soup but it was the next best thing to come to her mind when she brought this half dead man into her home. Her mind crossed to the gaunt look of his face and the thin frame. It almost physically pained her to think of how long he must have been without food.
The soft sniffle from the adjacent room roused her attention, but the mutterings and soft, half-sleepy vocalizations made her move to the doorway, looking in and seeing him analyze the room. His expression was pure confusion which she left him that way. A small, friendly smile crossed itself on her face as she grabbed one of the makeshift wooden bowls and the ladle, filling the bowl half way. And then she dipped a wooden spoon into the soup bowl.
She moved back to the door and brought a hand up, knocking on the dark wood to gain his attention. He looked up almost immediately and both of them made eye contact for the first time. Pale grey irises heavy with fear. Thin fingers held tightly onto the blanket, "W-who are you? If- if you don't mind my a-asking" his wavering voice was deep, and it rang with a distinct british accent. For a moment she saw a gentleman sitting there, her imagination redressing him in a clean version of his discarded clothes; red button up vest and white dress shirt.
She found herself trying to speak but it dies in her throat, and she coughed into her hand. Vocalizations were something she hadn't done for a long time, four years or so. "I'm just your friendly local hermit" there was a tickle in the back of her throat as she spoke, the feeling was unfamiliar. Her joke wasn't understood and she watched him quirk an eyebrow upward. "Whitney. Whitney Roni." there was an accent in her voice too, mellow and soft, her voice and tone was almost like verbal honey, "and you are…?" the 'O's' were lengthened slightly, pronounced differently. She stepped forward, stirring the steaming soup with a spoon while looking at him with her cool, blue eyes.
There was a pause and he seemed to relax in the faintest degree. "Wilson" he breathed, "Wilson Percival Higgsbury."