Witch, Wolf, Woods

CHAPTER 10: CRYING & QUESTIONS

Hours later, Katja straightened from where she'd been bent over her table and stretched her arms overhead before rolling her shoulders a few times.

She'd finished repairing the candelabra and had moved on to fixing the clasp of a bracelet. She was purposefully avoiding repairing the silver trimming of a mirror that had fallen and suffered damage, saving anything requiring her to look at her reflection until she had absolutely nothing else to do.

Her rumbling stomach told her it was time for lunch, and since she wanted to visit Tante Hedda, the best course of action seemed to be grabbing something and eating on the way. Thinking about returning to the kitchen and the pitying eyes of her aunts made her cringe, but so did the thought of going into the Essen Hall.

After a moment of deliberation, Katja decided that while more people would see her in the Essen Hall, she was less likely to have anyone actually speak to her there. She reached up and touched the wolf pendant, wishing for a moment she could be as intimidating and brave as the animals who roamed the Schwarzwald.

After washing her hands, Katja made her way to the Essen Hall, taking the less traveled passageways to avoid running into others. While the communal dining room was crowded, crowds could also provide anonymity, and if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was avoid drawing attention to herself.

Katja carefully wound her way between the long plank tables with their equally long benches, edges worn smooth by frequent use. She kept her head down, letting her hair cover as much of her face as possible, looking just far enough ahead to avoid running into anyone.

Katja was hoping the meal would be something she could grab and easily take with her, but unfortunately, it turned out to be potato dumplings, which were better eaten sitting down. She accepted a steaming bowl of the dumplings, grabbed a spoon, then raised her head just enough to look around the room; perhaps there was an empty corner of a table she could sit at to quickly consume the meal.

"It's a bit overwhelming, isn't it?" came a voice behind her, causing her to startle and spin around.

A boy stood there, a few years older than her, dressed in the garb of a traveler.

Seeing her reaction, the boy grinned.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just saw you looking around and wanted to reassure you. I remember my first time visiting, and it's a lot to take in."

Katja blinked at him. "You think...I'm visiting?"

The boy blushed. "Well, I assumed you were here for, you know..." he traced a finger down one side of his face, "...healing. The witches are said to be powerful healers, although I've never used those services myself. I'm here with my father, seeking information about a possible business venture."

Katja closed her eyes and wished she could sink down through the floorboards, or better yet, disappear entirely.

Of course that's why someone would think she was here—she certainly wouldn't be mistaken for a member of the Hexen, but rather some poor, disfigured girl who simply wanted to look normal. Tears burned behind her eyelids, and she tried to blink them away as she opened her eyes.

"Excuse me," she said softly, before heading towards the nearest doorway, leaving the boy behind.

Hurrying to her bedroom, which was closer than her workspace, Katja rushed inside and let the door slam shut as the tears she'd been holding back began to fall. Placing the dumplings on her nightstand, she sat down on her bed and cradled her face in her hands, tears streaming through her fingers.

It wasn't fair!

She hadn't asked to be different. She'd thought at some point she might stop being so bothered by the way others reacted to her, especially when they were being merely insensitive as opposed to purposefully cruel. She'd expected to eventually develop some sort of carapace, like a locust, only her outer shell would be invisible and made of numbness, shielding her from feeling things so deeply.