When my eyes re-opened, the light of the next day was already filtering into the room through a window overgrown with wild vegetation. Shards of clouded, dusty glass hung from the edges and corners, the full pane long since broken and forgotten about. Sweat coated my body and made the ripped and torn sheets of an old bed cling to me... or was that the blood?
Blood?
My mind sharpened instantly. I scrambled as best as I could out of the bed and limped over to the window, wraping my fingers around a thick shard and ripping it from the dusty frame. I spun on my good heel and held the shard out in front of me - the only weapon I could find. If I even needed it, I didn't know. But the metallic stench of blood had triggered the need to have something sharp and/or dangerous in my palm.
My eyes scanned the room - how did I even get here? Where was 'here' exactly? From behind the bed fram I saw the corner of my bag, and relaxed slightly. At least I still had my things. I crept quietly and painfully towards it, limping badly on a foot with makeshift bandages.
When I came around the corner, I found out I had a very good reason to have the glass shard in my hand. My back stiffened and I gripped the small weapon tighter, raising it, until realization kicked in. He was the man from last night - the one I'd tripped over, like an idiot. He'd struck my heel with that god damned knife. Probably wrapped it and taken me here since I'd snapped at him.The events of the night before flooded my mind as if just his face had triggered the floodgates to open.
At that point I balanced on my good foot, trying to assess the man in front of me. The new amount of light provided a good setting to eamine his features - strong, prominent jaw, rough but well-kept complexion, lazily cropped hair, well-built figure. He was probably stronger and smarter than I was. But I was quicker, more agile. That made me smirk well enough. I weaved the shard of glass between my fingers, debating inwardly. How easy it would be to kill him now, and yet part of me knew I'd need his help if I wanted to walk properly again. Plus, I wouldn't kill a man looking as peaceful as this - lips slightly parted, eyelids fluttering, face somber. Much more peaceful than before, when his blue eyes had stoicly adressed me before, sent chills down my spine.
"Oi," I said more to myself, although it was an instigative comment. As I said it I felt my balance shift, and I sighed, bending my knee and allowing myself to fall.
His eyelids fluttered open, and I sat back, my ass connecting with the floor as I huffed. The shard scattered across the floor. He stood and looked down at me, then at the makeshift weapon. "Planning on killing me with your foot like that?" he asked skeptically.
I shook my head, rubbing my face lazily. "Didn't know where I was," I grunted as a less-than-apologetic excuse. "Then I remembered: Oh, right. The man fucking knived my leg." I reached over for my bag and pulled out a pocket knife. Tearing away at the guaze that once was his shirt, I revealed to myself the wound that had been caused by a mixture of his knife colliding with my foot and my wrecklessly tearing the blade from where it had embedded itself in my heel. "Thank the gods," I sighed and leaned back, my back hitting a wall and my head tilting back as I breathed in deeply through gritted teeth. "Do you clean your knives regularly?" I asked. If he didn't, then the wound would've already been infected by now. It seemed generally clean already scabbing, just a deep gash. I was a damn lucky person. I unhooked my water canteen from my bag and sprinkled it on the wound. Clumps of dried blood scattered to the ground, a small creek of wet blood, but I doubted I needed more than one more bandaging.
Like I said - damn lucky.
"Here," Liam had ripped another piece of his shirt off and began re-wrapping my foot. Once again I leaned back against the wall and faced the ceiling, my eyes closing as I tried to process what would happen. I wouldn't be able to travel more than twenty miles like this - I was stuck here for a day or more, with Ama, a few weapons, and this guy...unless this guy left.
"Thanks," I said, without much of that emotion there - I wasn't going to give anyone the impression I owed them something. That was just as dangerous as taking pity on someone or something. I pushed off the wall and stood, whistling softly.
Ama padded in through the door-less doorway moments later, a rabbit foot dangling from his mouth. "Oh, did you eat already?" I asked, tugging the bloodied foot from the jaws of the pup and inspecting it. Must've been pretty recent, since the raw meat wasn't smelling similar to shit. "Here," I tossed the rest of her breakfast to him. "Go find s'more, will ya?" I asked playfully, and Ama tossed his head in annoyance. "Grumpy," I chuckled.
"Why a wolf?" Liam demanded bluntly, dragging my attention back to him.
"Because I can?" I shrugged. "I saved him from a bunch of humans who just wanted his pelt. Hell, they might've just skinned him alive right in front of me - I couldn't let them do that. I took one of their crossbows while it was unguarded and shot them all with it. Then Ama wouldn't stop following me around. Became my little travel buddy."
"And soon," the other man continued the story for me, twirling his carving knife in his hands. "Soon, he will attack you. And you'll wish you'd've let them skin him while you had the chance."
The thought made me shiver, and my eyes narrowed. "Or maybe one day, he'll save your sorry ass, and you'll change your mind."
"I will await that day," Liam scoffed sarcastically. I watched him through narrowed slits for eyes, distrustful. "What?" he asked, as if he were innocent.
"Don't touch my wolf pup," I warned simply. "Or my wolf pup will maul you."
"I doubt i--"
snap.
Liam gave me an evil eye. "Please tell me that was your wolf," he hissed.
But Ama had just run into the room, standing over me and nipping at my clothes gently. Time to go. He seemed to be saying. Danger's coming, Kida.
"Please tell me that was you, Ama," I prayed quietly, but the look in his eyes told me very much otherwise. "God damn it." I shot a glare over Ama's pelt to Liam. "If you ever chose to knife me again, try doing it at a better time."
"What does your wolf have in its mouth?" the man asked, trying to reach over and tug a patch from Ama's jaw. I extended my palm, and the pup dropped the package in my palm. I opened the slightly-damp cloth and pulled a silver, seven-bullet revolver from it. At the bottom of the sack was a whole bunch of bullets. Liam whistled in respect for such a nice-looking calibre, but it was me who filled the barrel and shoved it into my pocket.
"Up for a fight?" I asked with a wicked grin.
