Disclaimer: I don't own; I will never own.
Chapter 2
Winry
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A cool breeze blew through a little glade, causing the trees to rustle and sway. A person could almost hear a sigh go through the wood as the welcomed breeze cooled its inhabitants, carrying the scent of flowers at its back. A bird flying above spotted a tree with several fat, red berries on it and flew down to steal some before another creature could. As the bird greedily ate the berries, it noticed a figure lying at the bottom of the tree. What looked like blond straw was sticking out in every direction on the figure and the bird flew down to the straw, contemplating what good luck it was having that day. Juicy ripe berries and fresh straw; the bird was very happy and very greedy. Why, it could probably become the Greed of its species. However, when the little bird got to its fresh, blond straw, it couldn't pull it free. It was stuck fast. It squawked angrily and pulled harder. It was rewarded with a few blond strands. It squeaked happily, a high pitched chirp; however, when it prepared to pull a few more strands free, it was blasted with a white beam and the wood became eerily quiet.
Two black-robed figures materialized, seemingly out of nowhere. Both were cursing the woods and all its mangy inhabitants. One of the figures looked at the bloody smear on the ground -all that was left of the once auspicious bird- and chuckled, poking its partner and pointing with its wand, the wand that had killed the little bird. The partner, however, ignored the laughing figure. He bent down and examined the individual on the ground, and pushed a few tangled, blond strands from the person's face.
The individual was a girl, a young girl in her late teens. She was pretty and slender; however, right now, dirt stuck to her sweat drenched clothes and blood was slowly running down her face, where the bird had yanked her hair out of her scalp.
The robed person gently brushed the girl's hair and pulled a hankerchief from under his robe and dabbed at her face, cleaning the blood from her face. When the figure was done, he motioned sharply to his partner.
The figure, still chuckling, walked forward and tripped over a bulging bag. After a string of nasty curses, it pointed its wand at the bag, and within seconds, the bag was gone and a small, smoking crater was in its place.
"What the hell are you doing, you idiot?!" his partner cursed, his voice deep and angry. "Are you trying to bring the whole damn town down on us making that much noise?!" he said, gesturing. "And hurry up and send that damn thing, already!" he growled.
It glared daggers at him -even though its face was hidden, the man could tell, and he couldn't care less at that moment. The black figure stuffed its hand under its voluminous robe and pulled out a sealed white envelope. With a wave of its wand, it flew off out into the woods.
The two, with none-to-few glares, picked the young girl up and disappeared into thin air, leaving the quiet wood behind.
The Present
Edward paced, the strange letter clenched in his fist, crushing it.
When he had gotten back to Rockbell residence, he had been very angry. However, he had quickly sank into a state of panic and depression as the true extent of the situation hit him.
Winry. Today was supposed to have been one of the happiest days of his life, the day when he would finally tell Winry how he felt. A day he had planned and agonized over for weeks, but now... Winry was...gone!
Edward chocked back a sob and pulled on his braid fiercely, hoping the physical pain would distract him, if just a little, from the horrendous pain he was feeling inside. He had to do something. He had to get Winry back; he had to find her!
Edward's pacing intensified for a second, thinking. He hadn't found out much by going to the farmer's place, except... Winry had never arrived and never done the repairs. Where could she be? Where could she...
Edward opened the crumpled letter and studied it for the hundredth time. He came to an abrupt stop, his eyes wide. He smelt something. He smelt...honeysuckles. The letter smelt like honeysuckles. Why would... Edward's mouth moved soundlessly as he thought something through. With an incisive shout, he ran out of the house, his red coat billowing behind him, and ran down the road without another thought.
Behind him, Edward left an empty house, the door wide open, and somehow, it already looked deserted, as if it already knew it would not have any occupants for a very long time.