Before Death

Chapter 8: Home.

What was his story? I mused. He seemed more like me than any human I had ever met. Moreover, he had followed me to the edge of the forest - a place no-one dared venture unarmed.

After my connection with this village boy, I sought to catch his eye every time I glimpsed him in the streets. It seemed as though he was also seeking to recreate the understanding we had shared when our eyes locked, for he met my gaze without fail.

When my thoughts were not occupied by this boy, I was plotting my escape. This time I vowed to be more prepared than the last time that I went to my wolves on a whim. This time the companionship I was seeking was not close to home, and I had to expect to travel many weeks before finding another pack. However, I could only make prepations for the supplies I would need in the forest and was unable to actually find a way to leave surreptiously without being tracked. I was watched by my parents like a hawk. I suspect that this was more to prevent me from doing anything to dishonour them rather that to keep me safe.

Lacking the innate hunting instincts and fur coats that wolves were blessed with, I would need warm clothes, a plan on how to provide myself with food and a way to protect myself. I had no access to any hunting, fighting or foraging knowledge, as my parents had kept me from indulging in these 'useless' and 'unladylike' skills to discourage my obsession with living in the wild. I was ridiculously ignorant on how to survive in the wild - it was purely by luck that I had not met an untimely end during my last forest adventure.

It was now the middle of summer and I was restless to leave before the autumn frost set in to give myself the best chance of successfully travelling the hundreds of miles into desolate wilderness necessary to find another wolf pack. Currently the village was teeming with visitors from nearby villagers seeking distraction from their monotonous lives at our summer solstice festival and trader hawking their wares, seeking to profit from the impulsiveness of drunk revelers.

For the first time since I had returned from my initial wolf encounter, I was permitted to run errands on my own. My parents were simply too busy with their own share of the preparations for the feast to babysit their daughter constantly. Thus, for the sake of efficiency, I was sent into the village to buy exotic spices with only the threat of severe punishment hanging over my head to keep me compliant.

I walked along the path from my house to the marketplace with the bowed head and unresponsive staring that I had become so accustomed to while trying to avoid gossiping townsfolk. I soon realised, though, that my passing was for once not the most interesting thing to gossip about in this stagnant little village.

The teenage girls had on colourful dresses and faces caked full of overdone makeup. Jewlery adorned their wrists and necks as they huddled together near a vendor's cart and debated on who should be the one to aproach a handsome visitor. I scoffed internally at their vanity and continued on my way, relaxing my hunched shoulders for the first time in months.

Evenutally I reached the marketplace and was instantly overwhelmed my the confusing mix of noises, sights and aromas. Everywhre I turned a new mechant behind a stall loaded with outlandish wares beckoned me closer, seeking to make an easy sale taking advantage of a naïve little girl carrying a lot of money.

I headed straight for the spices vendor as soon as I noticed him. This kindly old man was a regular who was well-known for the premium seasonings he brought to our midsummer festival each year. My mother always insisted on using only his spices for the massive stew she was assigned to make for the evening's revelries.

However, before I could greet him and ask for our regular order of cloves, cumin, pepper and saffron, an unfamiliar stall caught my eye. This was one of the only stalls not swamped with eager customers haggling over goods. It consisted of a cart full of books. These looked to be different from the dull textbooks that my mother taught me from as they boasted colourful covers embellished with pictures. I changed course and moved towards the book vendor instead.

"Ah, I see you are one of the few in this uncultured village that can appreciate a good novel." He greeted me immediately as I approached. "What might you be looking for?"

I was not in the mood for making useless small-talk and ignored the vendor while I inspected his wares greedily instead. I shuffled storybooks that I might have adored in other circumstances to the side until I came to more practical literature. "Hunter's essentials" stood out to me instantly and I held it up to peer at the information it contained. This could be a precious asset if I was to act on my plan of leaving this very night...

I acted on my impulse to buy the book for its exorbitant price and shoved the precise denomination into the bookseller's hands.

"Eager to begin reading, I suppose!" The vendor chuckled goodnaturedly as I sped off into the throng of people milling around the marketplace.
Now the small matter of taking care of the task I should have been doing here: procuring the spices. I slipped into the bundle of bodies in front of the spice stall and quickly grabbed handfulls of the spices I needed, not even trying to be discreet. I dumped the various spices into the pocket of my shirt and sped away before the vendor could do more than shout indignantly.

I raced all the way back to my house where my mother was occupied chopping up huge quantities of vegetables for her stew, silently thanking the great endurance and stamina that I had developed from years of competing against the local boys in their footraces to the quarry. I unceremoniously dumped all the spices into the massive cast iron pot to avoid questions abput the suspicious lack of packaging for my purchases.

"You lazy girl, about time you got here. It's almost dark already and the stew should have been on the fire hours ago. Help me with the vegetables."

What a greeting.  I thought cynically and, suddenly impatient to be away from this life of mundane chores and unsatisfying interactions, calmly walked into my house and made a beeline for my room.

"Oh, so first you don't speak and now you've progressed to ignoring me completely!" The angry comments ecoched their way down the corridor but I remained unfazed. "You delinquent! This is not what I raised you for. You are about to get the biggest beating of your life!"

I briskly grabbed my backpack that I had prepared to contain all that I would need for the first part of my trek away from the stifling place I had lived my entire life. I hopped out of my window, leaving my disgruntled mother standing alone in my room. I flew back around the house to the entrance to my room with surprising aclarity just in time to lock the door before my mother could leave.

There. Let's see how she likes it. I mused. Childish, perhaps. But oh so satisfying seeing her shocked face and hearing angry shouts while knowing that I would never have to endure those again.

I crept away to the edge of the forest under the cover of twilight and breathed in the the fresh scent of pines. I looked back at the village scornfully one more time, seeing the lights and hearing the noise of hundreds of exited visitors.

They have something that I will never have. That kind of fellowship is just not meant for me. I sighed and shouldered my pack.

At least now I am truly where I belong - my home.