The Raven Girl

Chapter 3

Another chapter, another biscuit. Those are words to live by :D

Sleep had come with remarkable haste. All things considered, she thought it a little ironic that she should sleep soundly when surrounded by potential danger yet lie awake all night, terrified, when there was none such danger to be found. There had been no dreams – only peace – but now that peace had been taken from her with the rising sun.

She woke to the prickling sensation of sunlight crawling over her face. She scowled. Heat had never been a liking of hers, never been welcome, whereas the cold called to her as the flames of a roaring fire did to anyone else. Whilst attempting to somewhat shield her face from the glaring light, Asta sat up and flicked off the stones that had burrowed their way into her flesh like one would pull a thorn from a foot. If possible, she wished to avoid sleeping in fields in the future, yet that seemed, somehow, a little too optimistic.

Still groggy, it took a while for her vision to fall into place but when it did, she did a double take.

In front of her stood a boy whose height matched that of her brother's and, in that short moment, a surge of dread washed over her very being in the belief that it was indeed Arne. If it had been, she would've been more content with any death than to have had to deal with him, but luckily it was only a stranger. Still, her heartbeat spiked, throbbing rapidly in her chest – did he know who she was or was he merely wondering why she was there? Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself, tried to remain at least somewhat rational. What were the odds, anyway, that she should be recognised? Surely they were not so high.

"You alright, miss?" he asked, ignorant to the internal struggle taking place just steps away from him. His eyes flickered for but a moment over the bruises and scars, but she noticed. People always looked a moment too long. "Have you been attacked?"

"I guess you could say that," she mumbled.

"You guess?" he frowned, shaking his head in confusion. "Look, I can't leave you here – not in this state. My family's not rich, but we've got enough food to feed another and my mother can treat the worse of your wounds. If you'll come with me."

Perhaps she shouldn't have been so trusting, perhaps she should've treated the stranger with caution and hostility, like the enemy she was to him, yet she did not. Instead, she nodded. When taking a gamble, she knew it better not to hesitate when there was no possibility of knowing either way what would happen. Why would she think heavily before throwing a die or picking a card? Sometimes thinking worked wonders, won wars and kept armies breathing, but sometimes it only strained the brain, only made you doubt yourself and the decisions you made.

He gestured for her to follow him. Asta's feet seemed far more prone to getting caught in the grass than was normal, something she put down to dehydration, but when the boy offered an arm to help her, she refused. Trust was one thing, yes, but she didn't want to overindulge in it.

"It's not far," he said, watching as she tripped again. "Not from the country, are you?"

She shook her head. "Is it that obvious?"

"Just a little," he laughed. "So, where is it you're from? A city, maybe?"

"A town," she corrected him. On the spot, she attempted to weave a quick back story for the character she'd have to play. Lying wasn't easy, improvised storytelling wasn't easy, but this tale would have to be a damn believable one.

"Is it true townsfolk have never seen a cow before?"

Well, she'd never seen one up close, but she had seen them from a distance. It was probably the same for those living in the nearby towns.