The Game of Predators and Prey

Lost

"Where was I?" This was normal Viking life yes. I mean my father was no better but, he wasn't sick to the level of Ivar. What had wronged him so much to make him this insufferable, insensitive, monster. I crumbled to the ground, my back landing in a large hay pile.

Right now, I would take refuge in the barn. I did not mind, the goats and hogs. Nor did I mind being dirty. My peaceful place back home was the barns. My mother had taught me to milk the cow, feed the hogs, shove stalls. Those were the times I felt useful, and at peace. Even a little more happy.
My hair laid strung across the hay. Surely I would be covered in straw after this. But at this moment I did not care. Laying my head to the left, a small brown goat laid staring back at me. Like I had just disrupt her sleep. Carefully I swung my arm out to her, my hand laying just below her chin. Her large nostrils sniffed my hand, her fuzzy lips tickling my palm. Smiling to myself, I could hear the blood curdling screams from the torture that was being held outside the barn.

But I did my best to drown it out. Humming the soothing tune, our mother would sing to get us to sleep. I retracted my hand from the animal, and stared at the slanted ceiling. The dark sky, and it's brilliant moon shining through the slats of wood. Hvitserk wouldn't tattle on me, I knew that much. But I'm sure, Ivar had noticed my absence. I tried counting the holes in the wood, to pass the time before the screams and the cheering stopped. I heard people talking and howling amongst themselves as they dispersed from the event.
Realizing that was my time to head in for the night. Now to try to slip in within the crowd before Ivar truly realized I had left.
Leaning up. I stopped when someone's figure entered my view. They were leaned in the doorway of the barn. My palms got sweaty instantly and my heart raced. No one would touch me in fear of Ivar. Right?

The man walked in and the light from between the wooden ceiling, shone down on his face.
"Ivar?" I whispered, more to myself. And slightly annoyed he had found me. I wasn't sure what to expect from him. He knew I wasn't at the judgement and if could be scowled for it.
"You missed the show," he smiled wickedly. I dusted off my dress as I stood before him. At least even the field verse him staring down at me. Lecturing me like a child.
"Pardon me that I don't particularly like man slaughter. Not my style," he smirked at me. And my insides twisted, his face and clothes splattered in inky red.
"But poison is?" He looked me up and down, I tried not to waver. His eyes lingered in my bodice, a little longer then I would've liked. And his gaze was always intense, he did leave me terrified. He wore splints on each of his legs, they actually seemed to help him get around well. Enough for him to mange steps while he braced himself against something.

And even with the splints and him having issues with his legs. He still was taller then me by a head length.
"Not everything is meant to be poison." He smirked at me again this time in amusement. But I knew he was toying with me. He looked behind me and where I previously sat.
"Why huddle with the barn animals?" His stare made contact with the brown goat I had previously been fawning over.
"They remind me of home. My mother loved animals," he stewed with my answer for a minute. And walked closer to me. Making me take a few steps back.
"Animals are silly creatures," he paused, standing over me with an intense gaze fixed on me, "they have order much like we so, the weak die and the strong survive," he was waiting for me to shrink under his gaze. But I didn't have much to lose.
"Actually I think you're wrong," his interest perked up at my comment, "the smart out live the strong." I paused and leaned closer to his face, "Because they know how to play the game," he smiled at me and his hand reached out to touch my chin. His blue eyes shining with the moon light. If he wasn't so cruel, he would be insanely beautiful. Those eyes were intoxicating.
"We will find out who wins this game. Between the strong wolf and the smart fawn," his large hand grabbed my chin forcefully but not enough to hurt. His face inches from mine, I could smell the iron from the blood on his face, sign from the man he had just tortured for everyone to see.
"Goodnight little fawn," he cooed and released me from his grip. His back turned to me, as he left the barn. I was in deep shit now.