The Fox and Her Bow

-11-

"Well, as for your recommendation, I'll see what I can do." Mary says.

Mary shakes me out of my thoughts, and I look at her face. "You would do that?"

Mary smiles sympathetically. "Of course! I want to prove my worth and give you my thanks before this war." She frowns. "You are going to help in the war, right?"

"Of course. I need to prove my worth to all the other people. I need the Chief to put me in a higher place. I need to win this war."

"And I will support you as much as I can. And I will find more people to support you as well!"

"Really? Thank you!" This was the first time I had heard anyone say something like that, and I like it! It's definitely something I could get used too!

"Well, I'd better get back. The Chief will be taking his annual stroll, checking to make sure everyone is doing their work." Mary says.

"Really? He does that?" this might cause some complications.

"Yeah, actually. Every day, maybe two, the Chief takes a walk around the village and talks to the people and corrects their mistakes. There has been a few times where his. . . um. . . temper has gone a little tighter than usual. Several of the villagers have got a pretty god yelling from him." She ducks her head in worry. "I have not yet experienced that, but I'm hoping I don't have to." She sighs.

"Wow." I put my hand on her shoulder. "I had no idea he was like that." my hand falls beside me. "I wish there was something I could do to help, but I don't think my presents is welcome in the village right now. . . or maybe ever."

Now Mary puts her hand on my shoulder. "Don't think like that. Things will change! You'll see!"

I sigh, discouraged. "I don't know. The Chief seemed so sure about his decision - I don't know if he'll change his mind!"

"He will. He has too. No one is a better shot then you to help us win this war." She sighs. "It still doesn't make sense that there is war on our land. Whatever did we do wrong?!!" Mary puts her hands up in surrender, then flops them down to her side. "I don't know what to think."

"I know. It doesn't really feel real for me either, but. . . it is. And we all need to do our part, even if our leader is a little. . . haywire at the moment." We share a laugh. "I'll try to get some more information on the war, and . . . hopefully we can meet up again?"

She looks at me hopefully. "I would like that a lot."

With that, we went our separate ways, Mary into the village, and me back into the forest, left to wallow in my thoughts.

The cool wind whips through my jacket. I wrap my arms around my body and bow on my back pulls against my chest. I pull the bow over my head draw an arrow from my quiver. The arrow is freshly cut, the tip perfectly pointed. Not many of my arrows are that pointed. This was one of the arrows I had made just before I left the village.

I have an urge to shoot the arrow. Not at all fighting it at all, I load the arrow onto the string, pull back slightly, getting ready to fire. I look around for any good targets. Nothing for a few paces. The letter I wrote to Addison comes into view, still nailed to the tree just has it had been for the past few days. No Addison for it to be picked up by. And no words from Addison to hear from.

My cave comes into view. Thinking back to my little cottage in the village, I hesitate before walking into the mouth of the cave.

The moon is now just past its apex, and it's time for me to head off to bed. My eyes are starting to slide shut, but my mind's wondering. What's at stake if I lose the war? What if I'm not even accepted into the war, and the Chief sends me away again?

If I'm not allowed into the war, I'm still going to fight. I must win this war – for the village!

With those thoughts in mind, I drift off to sleep.

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In my dream, I'm running through the village. The clanging of swords connecting and twangs of bows being released make my head turn in every direction.

The war.

People run all over the place, escaping the fight and running to fight. Then, off in the distance, a horn blows.

Someone is in need of help.

The horn blows again, weaker this time. Help is needed now. I run to the sound of the horn, and I see the Chief, the horn to held to his mouth.

So many times, I have seen him stressed; in the middle of a big, complicated trade, after long days without sleep, even during prep for this war! But never have I seen him as desperate as this. Even from this distance, I can see his big eyebrows scrunched in concentration, his large forehead shiny with sweat, and limping with pain.

Without thinking what the consequences are, I run to his aid. As I approach, I shoot the arrows, bringing down about half of the enemy before I get to the Chiefs side. The Chief looks surprised and a little relieved at my appearance, and fights harder. A forgotten sword lies on the ground beside the fight. Though I am not the greatest at sword-fighting, I pick it up. It feels heavy in my hand, even in my dream.

The enemy looks at my tail and grins evilly. They advance on me, forgetting about the Chief. Suddenly overwhelmed by the sudden change, I stumble backward. The leader of the group of people pounces on the opportunity, and grabs my wrists, clamping them behind my back. The others grab my feet, while others still gag me and tie my hands together and bind my feet. All I can do is squirm, until they drag away...

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I wake up, drenched in sweat. The sun shines through the mouth of the cave. I force myself to sit up and wipe the sweat from my brow. The blinding sun shines in front of me, looking super inviting.

I sigh and throw off the thin blanket. My food bag lies a few feet away. It's still very flat, as last night wasn't a very successful mission to get some more food. Though it's light out, the sun was still very low in the sky. I get up and stretch, then walk over to my food bag and sling it over my shoulder. My bow is slipped over my shoulder, along with my quiver. I fill the quiver with my quiver with arrows, and, after looking through what I have leftover in my food bag, I pull out some berries to eat for the run to the village.

Making sure I have everything I take a quick look around. Then, it's time to go.

On the way there, I think about my dream. I feel like, somehow, that dream was a sign. There was a war in my dream, and a war is on the way now. What really shakes me though, is the last bit. What does it mean when I was captured?