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THEY SPENT A FULL DAY ON THE RIVER. Which luckily for them, no French or Native Americans were lingering about or following.But that didn't mean that no one was on edge... Silence had taken over the boat majority of the time, creating an eerie feeling to be carried for the many hours on water. The heavy fog that surrounded them & the trees, helped only further create the unnerving atmosphere.
And as for Elisabeth, she was still sat at her spot, watching the water and fish beneath them. Many came and go, different shapes, colors, and sizes. They looked peaceful; beautiful. From the way they swayed below, in groups or alone.
Fish—magnificent creatures, indeed...
Every now and then while the men dropped the dead bodies of their own into the river, causing the many fish to scatter below. And as she listened to the men mumbling prayers, many of the frightened fish would soon enough return. She witnessed many follow the blood trails of the stone cold bodies down the river; nibbling on them a few times in a row, some taking turns, others not.
All while this would occur, the young woman couldn't help but think about the man who she had murdered. The memory of her slitting his throat, repeating in her head like a broken music player. She remembered. She remembered everything. From the feeling of the man's blood covering her hand. The warmth of it. The thickness. The feeling of his soul leaving his body. The way his motionless body sounded as it slumped into the mud puddle, before the water turned red in the matter of seconds.
Killer. Murder. Predator.
She was no longer a graceful fish. She was now the fisherman standing closely nearby the water...
She wanted to go home—Wherever that was, anyway... She didn't care. She just wanted to forget. Too not think of what had occurred only a few hours ago. She'd beg and plead to whoever she needed just so she could never relive that moment again. Elisabeth wasn't afraid to admit she was wrong or stupid for thinking this was a good idea too start with. She just wanted far away as she could get from this god forsaken place.
"We gotta get off this boat." A voice murmurs, taking her words right out of her head.
"You wanna get off the boat? Then what we gonna do, huh? We gonna take our furries and sit out there amongst the river like a bunch of god damn ducks?" John responds in irritation, clearly not minding how he was coming across as.
