Anais is on her way to her arranged marriage when her family is attacked and their carriage set alight with them trapped inside. In theory, Anais should have been burnt to cinder like the rest of her family, but instead she walked from the flames.
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The smell of rot clung to her like a second skin.
When Anais has woken, she was still in her leaf pile which had turned to mush due to the fine rain that started at first light. Her face was slick with moisture, her hair saturated with filth but she was warm and alive and that, she supposed, was what mattered. As the sun began to fully rise under the rain clouds, she began to walk once more, this time preserving her energy and keeping a sensible pace.
Mouth dry and feet and body aching from the previous day's exertion, she placed the necklace around her neck and used its weight against her collarbones to centre herself, to remind her why she had to keep moving forward. The more distance she put between her and the road the better.
She happened upon a Bramble-berry bush close to midday and stopped to pick a few, shoving them into her mouth and chewing them greedily, the juices running down her chin and staining her skin and lips violet. She hardly cared much. Nothing had tasted more heavenly. The tart, slightly bitter taste was like nectar to her parched mouth, but soon even she couldn't eat many more. It felt bittersweet to leave the bush behind but she pressed on, still unsure of her destination.
It stopped raining shortly after and the sun once again made its appearance. Her skin heated, the rain water dried to be replaced with sweat, but worst was the sensation of being a roast on a spit. Anais' skin was fair alike that of many ladies unaccustomed to time spent outdoors, the delicate surface seeming to attract the sun like a beacon now that the ash had been washed away. Only an hour later she was hiding against a huge tree, using its great bulk to shield her.
She was no great outdoorsman, no knowledge of living off the lands or even basic skills that could be of use. How much longer could she keep walking like this? Crouching down she pushed her sweaty, stinking hair from her face and closed her eyes at the wrongness if it all. A twig snapping made her heart slam into her chest and draw in a sharp breath which she held. Staying still she listened, straining her senses to discover what caused it.
Anais almost screamed when a deer walked into her line of sight just meters from her, grazing the ground, nose poking through twigs to the sparse grass and leaves under them.
It was a beautiful creature with a long neck, its colouring a mix of sandy hues and chestnut brown. She watched it with wide eyes, hardly daring to move in case she frightened it off, fascinated at what she was seeing. She'd eaten plenty of venison, had seen antlers mounted in her Fathers' study and pictures in books but never had she seen one in person, having been raised in the city. For the first time since she'd entered the Forrest, Anais felt tranquillity wash through her as she watched the creature, until that calm was shattered.
An arrow suddenly embedded itself in the deer's neck, its blood splattering twigs and leaves it had been grazing. Anais gasped and fell back in horror as the creature jerked and toppled to the ground, twitching as it took its last, pained breath.
