Starlight And Mist

The Cottage

Eiris' eyes flew open as she sat up with a start. She looked around for the source of the noise that had woken her, a half-asleep panic making her thoughts race to childhood stories of forest monsters. Outside the cozy hut, night had fallen. Crickets and cicadas sang at full volume, frogs croaking and creaking from a nearby swamp. The cacophony of sounds was not amiss, and she calmed down a little at the lack of suspicious noises, sheathing her dagger.
A thick fog had crept into the forest as the temperature had dropped during the evening, hanging in the air and clinging to her clothes.
She frowned as she stretched her stiff muscles, regretting sleeping sitting up. She massaged her neck as she drank in the once-familiar sounds and smells of the forest.

She hadn't planned on falling asleep or staying the night here, but she couldn't leave now that night had crept in through the trees.
Over the years since she had called this place home, there had been rumors of escaped prisoners and spies that inhabited these woods, not to mention all the large animals that prowled around once the sunset. Even though she had never seen any evidence of escapees or humans, she was trained never to ignore any danger, even if it was implied. If she were to cross a bear or a large mountain lion, her tiny weapon would be almost entirely useless for self-defense.
For this reason, she had always visited during daylight. Even as a young girl, she had never been allowed to venture farther than the back garden after nightfall; her father had even refused to hunt after full darkness had set in.
She sat up and rifled through her satchel, retrieving some crude homemade matches.
She got up and stretched her legs, shivering a little at the breeze whistling in through the gaps in the stone structure. She strode over to the fireplace and lit the candles on the droopy mantle. She shouldn't waste the old frayed wicks, but she couldn't help it. Lighting the fireplace wouldn't be prudent, even if she were cold. Animals might see the smoke and come to investigate. It was too risky. Besides, she knew it was childish, but having the small amount of light from the candles made her feel safer somehow, like hiding under one's blanket when a shadow in their room looked a bit too much like a monster.
She was distracted by her growling stomach, sheepishly remembering that she had not brought enough food for more than a day's journey and had eaten the rest of it before she had drifted off.
She cursed herself for not being more prepared, knowing she should have packed two days of food anyway since she still had the journey back to the city. She had been in such a rage when leaving that it had distracted her.

"I'll probably be alright tonight, but I'll need something for the journey home tomorrow, " she mumbled quietly.
The only option was to forage in her mother's old garden patch. She didn't dare wander too far from the hut in search of better sustenance.
Reluctant to leave the safe glow of the candles, she begrudgingly grabbed her wool cloak from her satchel and headed out into the darkness, fastening it around her shoulders.

Outside, the forest looked much different. The trees were dark pillars, dappled moonlight revealing patches of silver bark and moss. The fog made the underbrush look like one solid, dark mass, more difficult to see. The air was unseasonably cold for late summer, and it reached through her clothes and clung to her bones.
She carefully crossed protruding roots, ducking under low-hanging limbs and through intricate spider webs.
She was careful not to roll her ankle on acorn shells or pinecones.
The smell of pine needles, damp earth, and rotting leaves perfumed the cool night air. Eiris breathed in deeply, the earthy smells bringing pleasant memories to the surface of her memory, temporarily distracting her from the ominous darkness around her. She fondly recalled the sword fights she had had with her father, how he groaned dramatically and fell to the ground, pretending she had bested him with the sticks they used as weapons. She used to stand over him, giggling, waiting for him to jump back up and tickle her for her efforts.
She remembered visiting the nearby brook with her mother during the summer months, swimming and foraging, and listening to her mother's stories as she washed their clothes in the stream.
Eiris had since grown out of the belief that either the fae existed or that if you gave them junk, they would protect you, but sometimes, when the yearning for her mother became too much, she would still build a miniature fairy circle and place a silver coin in the center. She always felt her mother would see it from wherever she was and smile. Her heart ached at the thought that her mother may think she abandoned her sometimes with her new life. She didn't even know where her mother had been laid to rest....
Her grumbling stomach pulled her back to the present, and the cold wind hit her tear-streaked cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them this time. She was too tired. The sound of crickets and nearby swamp frogs filled the air. It kept her company as she paced over to the far left corner of what had once been a garden. She knew where plenty of edible fungi grew in this corner, as well as edible roots and tubers buried beneath the mulch of the forest floor. Mushrooms in little clusters growing out of the ground and fallen tree trunks. She felt around the cold damp ground for a stick and used her dagger to sharpen it into a point. A good tool to help dig up stubborn roots.
She worked quickly in the near-total darkness, gathering them into the hem of her tunic that she had folded over to create a pouch.
Once she was satisfied with her find, she headed back inside to sort what was edible and what wasn't—another skill her father had taught her. As she got inside and closed the door, she heard something shift in the underbrush outside, perhaps 50 strides from where she was hiding.