Drop [On hold]

Sweet Pea

She was surprised by many things, at that moment;

Number one; her landing. Much to her disgust, she landed in the dirt in a nosedive. She had just barely managed to roll to her side, to avoid breaking her neck. Her clothes were torn slightly by that point, and dirty to the point where washing could do nothing. Her shoulder felt like it had popped out of its socket as well. Lovely.

Number two; her luck. She was behind a rose bush, concealed from the man she had followed.

Number three; the man hadn't heard her land. She had refrained from screaming, but she still felt the crash landing warranted a thud. The man hadn't looked in her direction, however. She was still unseen.

Number four; the giant boat. It sat in the grassy clearing, nonchalantly, as if it belonged there. It didn't, though. There was no water in sight. It didn't look ready to sail, anyway. It had missing parts, and was nothing more than a skeleton at the hull.

Number five, and the most shocking; the Drop.

She saw it, realizing for the first time how long she'd been running to keep up with the cloaked figure. She'd gone through the entire forest. She could hardly believe this fact. The Drop was to her left, easy to see from her laying position behind the bush. She let her breathing slow, as she stared. She couldn't see a bottom. It was an abysmal grey, like the sky. To think that if she had jumped a little further, she would have toppled off the edge and no one would have known. She shivered, sitting up and wrapping herself in her muddy shroud. Her head just barely stayed behind the bush.

The rain had stopped, but the skies were still dark. She watched the cloaked figure, keeping mental notes of everything he did. He pulled boards from under his cape, and walked over to the hull.

That must be what they were trying to get him to drop, she thought. Why were they trying to steal wood from him?

He put one in place, and seemingly from nowhere, pulled out a small bottle. She couldn't see what he did with it, but she guessed it was some sort of glue. He used a mallet to hammer the board in. So he was building a boat. She had to admit it was impressive. The boarding glinted like gold in the dim light, and the structure itself was beautiful. She could see engravings on the railings, carvings in the wood grain. Lots of care must have been put into the design, and the building of the ship.

She watched him as he went around to the back, where she couldn't see him. She searched for any sort of movement, but saw nothing. What was he doing?

"Hello. What are you doing all the way out here, sweet pea?"

She couldn't help but be offended by the nickname. Sweet pea? She was unimpressed. Whoever it was who had called her that, was right behind her. She didn't panic, although she wanted to. Instead, she slowly turned her head to look behind her.

He was standing over her, looking down. His hair was covered with a hood, his body with a long cape. Around his neck was a dark magenta scarf, that was pulled up over his mouth and nose. It wasn't that cold, was it? He was completely covered. All she could see was a pair of eyes, icy blue. They were like two pools of frozen rain water. She raised her hand slowly and waved, smiling awkwardly. What a sight she must have been. Muddy, wet, and behind a thorn bush at the edge of the world.

He waved back. When he realized she wasn't answering, he adjusted his scarf, before grabbing her by her clothing and lifting her up. She winced. He dragged her from behind the bush and threw her at the ground in front of the vessel. She just stared up at him, still not speaking.

His eyes narrowed at her, and he crossed his arms. "Hm..." He knelt down, and used both his hands to wipe the mud from her cheeks. She squirmed.

He held her still. "Aha! It's you, isn't it? The one who got me out of there." He took notice of her quiver and her bow that were on her back. "Oh yeah, it's you," he decided. He stood up, wringing his hands to get the mud off them. He began to mutter to himself.

"So she's here, but the other guys aren't. Must've lost them. But not her..."

He suddenly turned to her, making her jump. She felt cornered. "Alrighty, darling, what do you think you're doing following me?" His eyes lit up, giving her the impression he was grinning wickedly under his scarf. "Haven't you heard about the Drop? It's a bit scary, don't you think?"

She shrugged. All the while he'd been talking, she'd let one of her hands slide behind her, clutching her bow. She tried to be discreet about it.

He eyed her, the supposed smile vanishing. "Not much of a talker, eh?"

She shrugged once again. He laughed.

"That was a yes or no question. Nod or shake."  

Just to stay on his nerves, she shrugged again. She reached for her quiver, yawning in order to give the impression she was stretching. Her fingers itched at her neck, crawling closer to her arrows.

"Alright, pumpkin, I'm gonna count to three. I want some sort of answer from you."

She didn't speak. Her fingers curled around the shaft of an arrow.

"One."

Her grip on her bow tightened.

"Two."

In one fluent motion, she removed her bow from her back and knocked an arrow. It sailed through the air, straight at his head. The minute it happened, she realized she hadn't meant it. Unless something miraculous happened, he would die should the arrow go all the way through.

With no time to shut her eyes, she watched as the arrow...

Passed through his head, leaving him unscathed.