She had just skipped past the treeline when she heard a voice call angrily after her. She increased speed before finding an appropriately high tree and throwing herself onto it, climbing up like a squirrel being chased by a dog.
A question echoed into the woods after her, making her pause on a branch, ear twitching.
Shoes?
It caught her attention, not because she needed shoes--though she did, desperately--but because it implied he'd got a look at her, or at least her feet. Wild animals didn't need shoes. He thought she was a human--knew she was a human, she corrected herself. She was. She was pretty sure. Probably. Mostly. Sometimes.
That was more interesting than the offer of shoes. Although she did need them. She was still wearing the sneakers she'd run away in, and they hadn't been designed for the hell she put them through. Turned out that most people wear their good boots when out camping, and she'd been unable to steal any. But the shoes thing was probably a trap. She'd stolen from him, what, like, three times now? If she was him, she'd be pissed off. And witches were notoriously unkind to those who'd wronged them. Which she had. Again, three times.
She waited until the yelling stopped, then crept down from her tree and snuck further away, trying her best not to leave a trail that could be followed. She settled a ways away from the creek, but close enough that she was sure she could find her way back quickly, then settled down to work on descaling and fileting the fish. She even started a little fire, something she'd gotten very adept at over the months, and cooked her awkwardly fileted catch--she was working with a swiss army knife--before wrapping it up in some large, flat leaves and putting it back in her bag to be eaten that evening.
She didn't know if he'd been lying or not, but either way, she'd rather have cooked fish than raw filets. Who left raw filets out for someone they thought was human? She was suspicious as heck.
Still, her bad feelings were accumulating. She just kept taking from him, and witch or not, it made her feel like shit. It was necessary, but that didn't mean she liked it. She eyed the second filet sourly. Why did she even take a second fish? She didn't have the salt to dry it, and it might not even still be good tomorrow night. She supposed she could eat it now, but if she just waited until after sunset, one fish would be enough to at least put off starvation. If she ate one at sunset and one just before sunrise, maybe she could keep them both down?
But if he actually was planning on leaving food out for her, too...
She wound up heading back to the witch's cabin well before dark, creeping back along the side of the path, worried of there being a trap on it for her. If there was, she never saw it. She left her pack half-buried in its little hollow, pocketing only one of the fish fillets she'd wrapped up.
She hid in a bush by the side of the witch's clearing, the edge of what she thought of as his domain, even though arguably, this entire section of forest probably was. There she crouched, watching, ears twitching underneath the red headscarf that covered them. It was more important now than ever, since there was a person around who might see her.
She saw movement in the cabin... he was inside, then? She crept closer, scurrying on all fours, low to the ground, until she was on the other side of a little section of stone wall that had yet to collapse. She glanced over the wall, eyes narrow. There was no food out yet... she might have to come back as a dog. But then he might definitely know what she was.
Either way, she knew she couldn't stay here. She'd have to hide in the woods again, and watch from a distance.
A question echoed into the woods after her, making her pause on a branch, ear twitching.
Shoes?
It caught her attention, not because she needed shoes--though she did, desperately--but because it implied he'd got a look at her, or at least her feet. Wild animals didn't need shoes. He thought she was a human--knew she was a human, she corrected herself. She was. She was pretty sure. Probably. Mostly. Sometimes.
That was more interesting than the offer of shoes. Although she did need them. She was still wearing the sneakers she'd run away in, and they hadn't been designed for the hell she put them through. Turned out that most people wear their good boots when out camping, and she'd been unable to steal any. But the shoes thing was probably a trap. She'd stolen from him, what, like, three times now? If she was him, she'd be pissed off. And witches were notoriously unkind to those who'd wronged them. Which she had. Again, three times.
She waited until the yelling stopped, then crept down from her tree and snuck further away, trying her best not to leave a trail that could be followed. She settled a ways away from the creek, but close enough that she was sure she could find her way back quickly, then settled down to work on descaling and fileting the fish. She even started a little fire, something she'd gotten very adept at over the months, and cooked her awkwardly fileted catch--she was working with a swiss army knife--before wrapping it up in some large, flat leaves and putting it back in her bag to be eaten that evening.
She didn't know if he'd been lying or not, but either way, she'd rather have cooked fish than raw filets. Who left raw filets out for someone they thought was human? She was suspicious as heck.
Still, her bad feelings were accumulating. She just kept taking from him, and witch or not, it made her feel like shit. It was necessary, but that didn't mean she liked it. She eyed the second filet sourly. Why did she even take a second fish? She didn't have the salt to dry it, and it might not even still be good tomorrow night. She supposed she could eat it now, but if she just waited until after sunset, one fish would be enough to at least put off starvation. If she ate one at sunset and one just before sunrise, maybe she could keep them both down?
But if he actually was planning on leaving food out for her, too...
She wound up heading back to the witch's cabin well before dark, creeping back along the side of the path, worried of there being a trap on it for her. If there was, she never saw it. She left her pack half-buried in its little hollow, pocketing only one of the fish fillets she'd wrapped up.
She hid in a bush by the side of the witch's clearing, the edge of what she thought of as his domain, even though arguably, this entire section of forest probably was. There she crouched, watching, ears twitching underneath the red headscarf that covered them. It was more important now than ever, since there was a person around who might see her.
She saw movement in the cabin... he was inside, then? She crept closer, scurrying on all fours, low to the ground, until she was on the other side of a little section of stone wall that had yet to collapse. She glanced over the wall, eyes narrow. There was no food out yet... she might have to come back as a dog. But then he might definitely know what she was.
Either way, she knew she couldn't stay here. She'd have to hide in the woods again, and watch from a distance.
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A Fugue of the Continuous [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 06-28-2017, 10:17 PM
RE: A Fugue of the Continuous [Closed] - by ambientmagic - 06-28-2017, 10:49 PM
RE: A Fugue of the Continuous [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 06-28-2017, 11:10 PM
RE: A Fugue of the Continuous [Closed] - by ambientmagic - 06-30-2017, 11:20 PM
RE: A Fugue of the Continuous [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 06-30-2017, 11:57 PM
RE: A Fugue of the Continuous [Closed] - by ambientmagic - 07-02-2017, 09:01 PM
RE: A Fugue of the Continuous [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 07-02-2017, 10:30 PM
RE: A Fugue of the Continuous [Closed] - by ambientmagic - 07-07-2017, 12:04 PM
RE: A Fugue of the Continuous [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 07-07-2017, 03:16 PM