don't move.

1.

    Branches cracked and snapped. Leaves rustled and fluttered. A flock of birds exploded from a nearby tree, their wings filling the silent air with a deafening roar. The heavy breathing, the pounding footsteps. The boy looked back, squinting as beams of light cut across his vision. He kept running.
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    "Wait up!" A small boy squealed as he ran through the forest, a bright smile on his face and a chuckle erupting from his lips. He pushed past the small branches that blocked his path, eyes on the figure running ahead of him.
    His small feet barely making an imprint as he chased down the person in front of him. A root. His foot. The ground. Breath gone. Hurting hands. After a few moments the boy caught his breath and he peered up. It was quiet. Sunlight filtered through the towering trunks and a chirping bird could be heard every now and then. The child sat up slowly, shaking the dirt from his little sweater vest.
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    There was a muffled shout from behind as the boy got up, shaking his head clear and quickly wiping his hands on his jeans, wincing before realizing that they had been scraped when he tried to catch himself in the fall, a smear of red cover his skin. He couldn't worry about it now, he had to keep running. The shouting grew nearer. The boy set off, a few strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes. Heavy breathing. Pounding footsteps. Distant shout. Flashlight beams. Heavy breathing. Pounding footsteps. He could see a small clearing ahead, moonlight illuminating a trail that split into two. The boy ran to the trail on the left before quickly making his way off, turning towards the direction of the voices. He was going to circle back but away from them, hopefully getting the men off his trail.
A fallen log seemed to appear from thin air and once again the blonde tripped, hitting the ground with a thud, a stabbing pain shooting through him as a sharp branch managed to tear through his jeans and cut into his thigh. Wincing he rolled against the log, trying to stay as quiet as possible. He could hear the voices but could not decipher what words were being said. The sound soon grew fainter and the boy let out a sigh of relief, looking up at the stars.
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"Freyyyy, where are you?" A sing song voice echoed from the trees. The little blonde boy looked up, wiping off the mud and grime from the fall. Frey smiled and ran off into the trees once again, towards the voice. The shape of a young girl could be seen but in an instant it was gone. The child let out a chuckle.
"I'm gonna get you sissy!" Frey yelled, his voice echoing through the trees.
The sky started to turn orange as the sun began to set and Frey stopped, his short legs growing tired from all the running.
"I give up!" He shouted, "You win sissy! I'm tired!"
A few moments past, the birdsong quieting down as the sky grew darker. Twigs snapped and a young girl appeared from behind an oak tree, a grin on her face. Before she could say a word a voice rang through the forest.
"Frey! Ruby! It's time to come inside!"
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Bright sunlight filtered through the tall oak branches, a peaceful quiet filling the atmosphere. Frey opened his eyes, immediately his eyelids squinted shut in protest to the light. The blonde groaned, slowly sitting up and scanning his surroundings. His head felt foggy and he tried to adjust but let out a shout as pain raced through his leg. Right. His leg. The branch had snapped in two, the top still poking out of his thigh. It had gone in deep. Frey grabbed the branch, thinking of no other choice than to just pull it out. With a quick yank and a painful shout it was gone. The wound throbbed and some blood was beginning to seep out. Taking off his backpack he rummaged through it looking for the first aid kit but coming up with nothing, he must have left it back at his last camp along with a handful of other things that couldn't be grabbed because of his...predicament.
Frey had been re-organizing his things, taking inventory of what he had and what he needed when they came out of nowhere, the men, shouting and angry. He had had to leave some things behind, he had to escape the men, he couldn't let them take him. There was no time.
He decided a t-shirt would do, grabbing the faded green fabric. The boy winced, wrapping the cotton around his leg and tying it off. Tenderly he placed his foot down, grabbing the log for assistance as he tried to stand. Frey inhaled, grinding his teeth as more pain shot through his leg. He had to keep going, he had to get out of town.
Frey decided to find the nearest bus station and to do that he needed to change his clothes, he couldn't go around with a mud slathered all over him and a blood stained t-shirt around his leg, it would draw attention. Certain that no one else was in the middle of the woods he quickly changed into a maroon hoodie and some black joggers that he had packed. He redressed the wound and with the help of the baggy joggers, the new t-shirt bandage could not be seen.