The Woodlands' Lost Lamb

Prologue

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"Run..."
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The yells of townsfolk filled the stormy woodlands, as their cries and pleas for safety fall upon deaf ears.
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"I have to keep running..."
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The fire in the distance rages on, giving the once grayish blue sky a smoggy orange hue. Dark smoke covers even the tallest of the trees, suffocating the many wildlife who hide within the large branches.
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"They're getting closer...!"
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Marching boots splash along the muddied ground, as they track down the hoove prints left in the mud. With their crossbows and blades readied, they track down the small satyr, their boss' authoritative tone never leaving their minds.
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"Run...Run run run RUNRUNRUNRUN!..."
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"Where did she go?!" The stomping of heavy boots filled the once peaceful atmosphere of the woodlands, as angered shouts of soldiers could be heard following the small satyr. "She's up ahead! Go get her! Boss wants all of them dead and buried!" The satyr's small lamb hooves splash in the various shallow puddles, causing her to slip countless times.

With panicked breaths, she keeps her ragged worn cloak closer to her thin frame, as she jumps over fallen frail tree limbs. Suddenly, a quiet whistle could be heard closing in on her. The small satyr turns around quickly, only to just barely dodge a handful of arrows aiming for her head. A hiss of pain leaves her cracked lips, as an arrow pierces her lamb ear, sticking to a nearby tree. The girl looked at the lodged arrow in pure fear and disgust, watching the blood drip from the stolen piece of her ear. She couldn't help but stand and stare for a moment longer at it, bile growing in her dry throat. The soldier's shouts snapped her back to reality, as the heavy sounds of their boots approach closer.

The satyr runs and runs, adrenalin being her only saving grace at the moment. Suddenly, a stranger's shadow appears above her, as she looks up with a face of fear. A soldier wielding a large blade hovers above her, ready to finish her off once and for all. With a fear stricken cry, the girl shouts, "Fidh, please help!" Suddenly, the soldier was swatted away into a boulder, rendering him unconscious. The girl looks up to the tree, watching the large, now cracked, branch of the oak tree push her forward to keep her running. Shaking out of her stupefied state, she continues her trek forward, but not before giving a quiet whisper of gratitude towards the tree.
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After what felt like hours, the loud voices grew quiet, the only noise she can hear is her own erratic heartbeat. Her hooves slow her to a staggering pace, dragging themselves into the mud. A few roots rise from the ground, as they help gently nudge the little lamb forward towards the tree line. The rain slows to a light drizzle, as her blurred eyesight can just barely make out the silhouette of a village up ahead. Feeling the adrenaline wear off, her shaky legs begin to stumble into the ground, her hands just barely catching herself in time. She stumbles her way into the light, the roots pushing her forward out of the woodlands, only for her to collapse just when she passed the tree line.

The little satyr remains on the ground, her frail body too weak to keep going. Her purple eyes glaze over with salty tears, as her bloody arm reaches up towards her pierced bloodied ear. "I can't...move anymore...I'm so tired, Mama...Papa..." Her eyes fight to stay open, as her cold, shaky body curls up just a bit in hopes to stay warm from the previous raging storm. As her consciousness begins to drift, she can hear a muffled unfamiliar shout, most likely someone from the nearby village.

"Hey-!...-ou awake?...Mo-!... -eeding, Mom!...They-...help!..."

Her body shivers upon feeling a smaller hand grasp her underneath her arms, as the unfamiliar figure does their best to carry her up the small grassy hill. The lamb satyr could no longer keep her hazy eyes open, as she drifts off into slumber. Just before she goes, she sees a hazy blurred figure of a tall woman, dressed in long gown, rush over to her and the unfamiliar person dragging her. As her eyes shut, for what she believes is the last time, A gentle voice of another child could be hear, whispering just beside her drooping lamb ears...