Snow fell from above, laying a fresh blanket of white on the frost-covered ground. The trees were laced with bright slivers of ice. No leaves were visible, except for the few stragglers on wandering branches. The air was so brisk that it hurt whenever Clover inhaled. He winced as the chilled wind escaped into his lungs. He exhaled quickly, creating a small cloud of fog in front of him.
Clover dug into his coat pocket, pulling out what looked like an old pocket watch. He pressed the little button on top, causing the lid to open. A small ball of red light floated out, and turned into a glowing arrow, which pointed forward. Only a brief second passed before it evaporated into the icy air. He nodded, closing it and putting it away. He crossed his arms, and continued down the barely visible forest path.
After a moment or two, he reached the edge of a large cliff. He unwound the rope he had over his shoulder, tying it securely to a nearby stump. He gave it a good tug, before fastening it to himself. He inched backwards, toward the edge. He kicked off, letting the rope help him shimmy his way down. Surprisingly, scaling the side wasn't too difficult to do for Clover, as he'd been surviving on his own for years now.
His feet touched the hard rock at the bottom. He quickly untied the rope, leaving it there for a quick getaway if need be. The area around him was filled with more trees, grouped closer together than their higher counterparts. The air was even colder, and Clover had to keep his nose and mouth beneath a red scarf he had purchased in the town before. He continued on, kicking his feet through several inches of fresh snow.
Suddenly, a howl was heard to his right. Clover turned quickly, locking his eyes in the direction of the sound. He couldn't see anything, but he knew whatever made the sound was close. He closed his eyes, letting all the sounds around him create an environment not meant for eyes. Whether good or not, no sound reverberated back to him. He sighed a sound of relief, before opening his eyes. He turned back to the trail, and continued on. It was getting darker and darker, the more he pushed forward.
Another hour passed quickly, now enveloping Clover in a sheet of darkness. He slid off the bag he had slung over his back, placing it on a dry patch of ground. He opened it, pulling out the supplies he needed to create heat for the night. After struggling a bit because of the temperature, he was eventually able to make a decent fire. He sat down, finally able to relieve his legs of the journey. After getting out his sleeping bag, it took almost no time at all for Clover to fall asleep.
The morning came quickly, with the orange hue of the sunrise taking over the atmosphere. Usually, the brightness change in the sky would wake Clover, but this wasn't the case today. His eyes shot open, only to see a set of dark brown eyes staring right back at him. His abrupt awakening seemed to startle the newcomer as well, as they quickly leaped back. Clover sat up in a flash, raising his arms up to his chest, ready to defend. But what he saw wasn't a danger... or atleast, she didn't seem to be one.
A young child with short black hair stood a few feet from him, holding a small rock in her hand as a ready weapon. They stared at each other for a moment, before Clover slowly lowered his arms. The girl did the same, not releasing the rock however.
"Hello," said Clover softly, as to not label himself as a threat.
"H-Hi..."
"Are... you lost?" he asked gently. The little girl shook her head.
"I live here..." she said, slowly lowering her arm the rest of the way..
Clover kept his hands in front of his chest as he slowly stood. The little girl's eyes stayed locked on to him. His line of sight shifted up a little, where he noticed a small little blossom in her hair. He pointed slowly at it, and grinned.
"That's a very pretty flower in your hair," he said, nodding as if agreeing with its beauty. The little girl smiled just slightly. She touched the blossom with her finger tips.
"Thank you... my mom put it in my hair," she said, not moving her eyes away though. Clover took a breath softly. This girl looked like she was protecting this area, which made him ponder what it was for her. Was this area her home specifically? Or was it nearby?
"Well I just needed a place to rest for the night, so I'll pack my things and get going," he said, kneeling back down. His stomach rumbled as he went to pick up his sleeping bag. The small child dropped her rock, and walked closer to him.
"Are you hungry...?"
"Heh, yeah. But I'll find food."
"But there's a lot of venomous berries and plants around here. If you want, my mom and I live right past these trees. We have some food you could have," she said, her mood shifted into one beaming with curiosity. He looked at her, and shook his head.
"No thank you, and you shouldn't invite strangers over to your home..." he said, packing his sleeping bag and other supplies into his bag. He stood up, but the girl wouldn't move.
"You're in our tribe's territory... and you need their acceptance to leave. If not, they will attack you... and you seem nice," she said. She reached out her small hand, and Clover hesitated, after hearing the word "tribe." He begrudgingly took it, and she pulled him past the nearby trees. The crowding of oak and bark began to open up the further they walked, as they reached a very poorly crafted cabin-like structure. The girl opened the door, and Clover immediately could see tracks of dirt and snow along the floor.
There was little to be had in terms of "furniture." There was a low table, with small grass and hay-made cushions as seats. There were some harshly crafter baskets that held clothing and other garments. The walls were covered in large patches of foliage, possibly keeping out the cold where cracks and gaps between the wood lay exposed. The girl tugged on his hand, and he looked at her.
"My mother must be out hunting, but please sit down and wait for her."
Just as she finished speaking, she left the room, and entered a back area beyond Clover's sight. He released the groan he had held back earlier. What if the blossom girl had led him into a trap? Thoughts on the Hansel and Gretel tale came to mind. He looked around, touching the deep scratches and grooves in the wooden walls. The thin layers of planks below him did nothing to stop the squeaking of his footsteps. He heard a small creek behind him and turned to face the small child. Only it wasn't her.
It was a dark gray wolf, with bright yellow eyes, showcasing its viciously sharp teeth at him. He froze, forgetting all training he had fighting against large animals. The wolf's pointed claws dug deep into the ground below, as it leaned back a bit, ready to pounce. Clover quickly snapped out of it, and reached behind him quickly to grab his knife, but before his fingers even grazed the handle, the predator lunged at him.
