The moon waned overheard, another full moon gone. Cerek stared up at the sky, registering that with the shrinking moon marked that he was late, dreadfully late in getting home to his love, Clara. Or at least he thought she was his love at first, but the more time he had spent with her in the past, the more she proved indifferent to his feelings. The later he became, the more he began to wonder what it was besides her beauty that drew him to her. He could honestly think of no reason for his wanting her for himself. When he had told her that he would be going hunting, she had just shrugged her shoulders and responded, "And?"
He began a small fire and skinning one of the smaller animals that he had killed, a hare. As the skinned hare roasted on a spit, the slightly gamy aroma drifted to his nose, making his mouth water. Suddenly, the hairs on his arms began bristling. He could feel someone hidden in the forest, watching him. He stood up, plucking his bow from where he had placed it next to him, and, nocking an arrow, looked around.
"Whoever is out there, come out where I can see you!" he called out, doing his best to sound as commanding as possible. Nothing moved, but he could still feel eyes upon him.
"I will loose my arrow if you don't show yourself!" He pulled the arrow back upon the cord, and waited. Nothing answered, but then in thin rays of the moonlight, he glimpsed something fur-covered and close to the ground. 'Wolf,' Cerek thought and aimed at it.
When he loosed the arrow, it flew, and something yelped, hit. He nocked another arrow and rushed over to where the first arrow had flown. When he saw what he had struck, his eyes widened and he dropped the bow and knelt down.
"Oh no," he sighed miserably, and cradled a young woman's head in his arms. She had been pierced in the shoulder, and was shivering. Cerek looked down, and saw that she was stark naked. Her skin was dirt, streaked with mud and leaves, and blood from her wounded shoulder.
When he looked upon her face, for a second, he saw yellow eyes. He blinked, and when he looked again, her eyes were normal. She looked up at him, still shivering, and then fainted.
He carried her over to the fire and set her down carefully. He removed his cloak and covered her with it. The arrow that had struck her was still lodged in her shoulder. He gave it a quick yank, and in her unconscious state she still screamed in pain, but at least the arrow was freed. He used some of his remaining water to clean her wound, and tore a bit of his clothing to cover the hole, wrapping the strip around it. He also cleaned a myriad of other scrapes, cuts, and what looked like the mark of a blade across her side. She had been in quite an ordeal before encountering him, likely fleeing from somewhere else.
The rabbit was a bit more cooked than he would've liked, but it was meat, and he was hungry. He saved almost half of it for the young woman whom he had hurt. She gradually opened her eyes when her nose picked up the smell of roasted meat. She pulled the cloak around her and sat up, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. She saw the meat on a stone, cooling, sniffed, her nostrils flaring, and then started forward. Then she saw Cerek and froze.
"Please," Cerek motioned to the rabbit meat, "It is yours."
She rushed forward on her knees, grabbed the meat, and then retreated back a few paces. She watched Cerek as she tore hungrily into the meat, good manners being the furthest thing from her mind. In a manner of a few minutes, only the barest of gristle remained on the small bones, and buried them in a small hole. Still hugging the cloak around her thin frame, she belched resoundingly, to Cerek's amusement.
"Where have you come from?" Cerek asked, not really expecting an answer. She looked at him warily as if gauging his intentions, and minutes passed before she whispered, "Villagers chased me into the woods. They tried to..."
She hoped that Cerek would understand what she was saying without having to say it, and he nodded. In most villages he'd passed through, lawlessness was the key to survival, and such as she would not fare well in one. She appeared to be in her early adulthood, twenty or so, and in the fire, her hair was a glowing red, untouched by shears, and windblown. Her skin was pale, but her eyes were bright green.
She continued once Cerek had nodded, her voice tremulous and slightly high-pitched, "I had no clothes, so I hid under the leaves as they passed by. Once they were gone, I ran as hard as I could. I saw your fire, and smelled the meat, but I couldn't come too close because I thought you might be one of them."
"Oh. I have some extra clothes. They might be a little large for you, but they'll help keep you warm."
He handed her a bundle of clothes from his bag, and, giving him the cloak, she began to dress. He had to notice, being a man and all, her small, high breasts, and the patch of wild fire that led down between her legs. Despite being small of build, she was otherwise in good health. She winced as she covered herself in his tunic, and then sat down next to the fire.
"I was going to try and make my way home, but it's already so late," Cerek explained to the girl who seemed to be all but lost in his extra clothes, "You can come with me if you wish, or I can take you home first."
Her head hung, and tears glistened in her eyes, faintly caught by the moon's glow.
"I have no home," she sighed miserably, "It was burned down during the war."
"Have you no family?"
"All slaughtered. My mother, brothers and sisters are all dead."
Cerek shuddered, "You were not there, I hope."
Her lower lip quivered, "I hid in a crawl-space, but...yes, I could see through a small hole. When they had...done what they'd come to do, they stole everything of value and set everything else on fire."
She began shivering uncontrollably, so Cerek inched closer and closer until she was only half a foot away. In her horrible memories, she sensed him approaching, and her eyes grew wide in fear.
"Please," she pleaded, "I can't..."
Cerek saw her fear and tried to allay her fears, "I do not wish to do what the villagers did. I only seek to comfort."
So, her eyes still suspicious, she allowed her to be drawn into his arms, grudgingly admitting in her mind that she began to feel safe, as his arms were gentle.
For the first time in weeks, her tears fell. She sobbed in his arms, and he smoothed her wild, red hair.
For almost ten minutes she cried, and he did his best to comfort her as he said he would. When her tears finally stopped, she drew herself away with difficulty, as she was truly warm for the first time in years.
She looked up at him, wondering, "Why are you nothing like those villagers? I do not understand. You don't seek to do what they wanted to."
"There are far better ways to live than as they do."
"I do not know your name. Mine is Cerek."
She looked down at the fire for a second, and then answered, "Sarina."
Cerek's heart was pounding, however, filled with the indescribable affection that he felt for her, all having come out of nowhere. He could not claim having ever felt the same way for Clara.
He cleared his throat, "We should rest. I can better bandage your shoulder when we reach my town. And, from there, if you wish, we can part ways."
