tranquility - Fushiguro M. x Gender Neutral! Reader

01| a strange encounter

      THE SOUND of crunching snow filled the air, bouncing off the bare trees, and spiraling through the thicket of the forest. The thin layer of ice covering the snow would have been concerning had I not been wearing such heavyweight boots, which easily cracked through the ice and went through the snow with every step. The air was blistering cold, so cold that if I wasn't wearing a mask to cover my face, it would have burned my cheeks. I was lucky to have my neck covered by a scarf, my ears by a toboggan and the hood of my fur-lined coat, and my hands with these gloves. If I wasn't properly dressed, I could have easily frozen to death in this kind of weather. 

Anyone could, really. The mountains were a dangerous place in the winter, especially if you weren't accustomed to such cold weather and such thin air. Not many people traveled up in these mountains, given the slopes and the almost constant snowy terrain. I myself was thankful, not many other people dared to risk trekking up the slippery, powdery snow, that could easily slip from under your feet, and have you tumbling back hundreds of feet, or even several miles down the mountain, burying you under the packed snow. Only the brave--or the stupid--came out in this weather to fuck around in the mountains. 

Shifting the backpack further onto my shoulders, I lowered my head to tuck my chin into my scarf. Despite the solid mask that covered the entirety of my face, I could feel the icy wind nipping through the holes that let me see and breathe. The pine trees rustled, the snow that had gathered on the bristles falling onto the ground. The bare trees swayed and shifted in the breeze, making me turn my gaze up briefly. As I did, a heard some loud chirping and flapping of wings. 

Quickly reaching to my side, I drew an arrow from the stitched leather quiver, raising the bow as I did. I placed the arrow onto the string and pulled it back, my gaze focused on the sky. A group of pheasants fluttered up into the sky, no doubt fleeing from a band of foxes that had stumbled upon them in search of food. Too bad that they didn't end up escaping after all.

My arrow pierced through the belly of the bird, and I watched as it fell from the sky. I lowered the bow as I began to run through the snow, hoping to try to get there before the foxes did. I picked my feet up as I ran forward, jumping through the snow, much as a fox would. I quickly found the game, mentally giving myself a pat on the back for my lucky find. 

Crouching down, I pulled the arrow from the bird, cleaning it off in the snow. I pulled my backpack from around me, digging out the rope from inside. I tied the bird's feet together, before standing back up to my feet. Now that I had fresh meat, I should probably head before something decides that I'm fresh meat. Hanging it on my side, I slung the backpack back over my shoulders, the pouches of water from the stream sloshing around inside. It sounded a little slushified, so I need to get back home before it all freezes, and I have to boil it back down twice. 

However, before I could get too much closer, I heard a scream echoing in the air. I froze, my body seizing it at the sound. I turned around, careful to step back in my previous footprint, as to not make much more noise. The scream wasn't one of joy, like someone messing around and slipping a little, or racing down on the slope of the mountain on a board or pair of skis. This was something much darker, something much more chilling. 

I waited a few more moments, questioning if it had just been my imagination or not. As I mentioned before, not many people came onto the mountain. To be honest, no one ever ventured this far into the forest this time of year. There were cabins to rent closer to the foot of the mountain, but none this fair up, which meant people didn't usually come up here. 

And that scream didn't sound like some of the joyful screams I'd hear around this time of year from people sledding or skiing down the mountain. It didn't sound like an owl's screech either. It was very much so a male's scream if I really had to guess. I think that's what really chilled me to the bone. 

But before I could fully dismiss it as my mind, another scream struck, cutting in the silence like a knife. A set of howls followed, and I felt my heart sink into my stomach. It was either wolves or coyotes, neither being a good sign. They didn't sound too far...I cursed softly under my breath before running in the direction of the screams. 

The rushed crunching of the snow filled the air as I ran forward, holding onto my quiver as to keep the arrows safely inside. I'd be in trouble if I dropped one of the few I had. 

The more I ran, the thinner the air got, making it harder to catch my breath. I knew I should never run in this cold of weather, but what other choice did I have? If there was someone out there, this far into the sticks, and possibly in danger, then there was a serious problem. A very serious problem. 

My main concern was the howling that I'd heard. The game had been scarce, even for me, so I knew that most of the predators surrounding the area were going to have a hard time feeding themselves. It's the exact reason I've been so cautious. If you cross paths with a hungry wolf or coyote, there's a helluva good chance you aren't going to walk away unharmed, or even walk away at all. 

I first noticed the dark figure collapsed in the snow. I could see a trail of red behind them, which meant this person was injured. I looked around and found no wolves or coyotes, but I did catch a glimpse of what looked like a shadow vanishing into the misty air. But I couldn't focus on that. I had to see if this person was okay. 

I jumped over a log poking out in the snow, dropping down onto my knees to crawl towards this person. They wore a navy blue jacket and matching pants--a uniform perhaps? But it was torn, exposing some of their pale skin and bloody wounds. I reached forward, brushing the snow from around their face. Their face was red, no doubt from the cold, but also red with blood. From what I could tell, he looked like a male. His messy black hair clung to his face, his thin, yet dark eyebrows furrowed together, pale pink lips parted slightly. I could see the discomfort in his face, despite him being out cold. I fumbled to take my scarf off, pulling the boy up in my lap as I wrapped it around his face, tucking it under his chin and pulling it over his ears. 

I looked around, scanning the area for anyone that could have been around. But I didn't see anyone. I looked back down at the boy, pulling my gloves off as I pressed two of my fingers to his neck. I could feel his heart racing. I knew he was beginning to get hypothermia; the blood vessels and arteries in the body normally constrict in cold weather, which means the heart has to beat faster in order to circulate blood through the body. Soon, though, it would begin to decrease.

 Getting to my feet, I lifted the boy up over my shoulders, stumbling to catch my balance before releasing a heavy breath into the icy air. I had to get this boy warm or else he would die. Or worse, the monsters that lurked during the setting sun would get him. I heaved a groan, my eyes scrunching up in slight annoyance. 

I would never be able to live peacefully with shit like this happening to me.

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