Living on my own

Traded and back, mysterious girl.

I went back to Bill, the guy I normally trade with. The whole room was silent, until Bill said, "What do you have for me now?" I opened my bag and pulled out a deer and six rabbits. "Okay. What'cha want for'em?"

"Cloth, some string for repairs, and another knife." I said. The whole room went back to their activities as people went to help the man I stabbed. Bill went in back and grabbed the requested items and we traded. I nodded my thanks and left, not looking or talking to anyone else. I headed back to my shelter in the woods and put the things where they belonged, keeping the bow and arrows with me. I made repairs to my canopy, then my clothes. I knew that I would need new ones soon.

I got up after securing my camp and went to hunt again. I shot three squirrels before I heard another noise. I turned around and almost fired when I saw that the noise had been made by a human. A girl to be exact. I lowered my bow slightly, but kept alert, in case she was an enemy.

"Who are you?" I called out, approaching slowly. The girl turned around quickly, obviously frightened. By the look in her eyes, I knew she had seen my camp.

"I--I..." she stammered.

"I ain't going to hurt ya. Just want to know your name." I said, walking slowly towards her.

"My-- my name is Jessie. I--I got lost. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I just don't know where I am." she replied softly. I lowered my bow.

"That's all right. My name is Edeline. Let's go." I directed her to my camp.

"What is this place?" she asked, confused.

"This is my camp." She looked at me, still very confused. "I live here. Have for years now. You are welcome to stay as long as you want, as long as you aren't an enemy and are willing to work a little. I'll teach you." She nodded.

"How long have you lived here?" My face hardened.

"Five years. Since I was ten. I had been taught how to hunt and it came in handy here," I replied, my voice low, almost tried.

"Why? Couldn't you just go home? Why stay here?" I closed my eyes, just then remembering what had happened five years ago, which caused me to come and live here now, hardened, determined, fiery. I opened my eyes, the moment of emotion passed.

My eyes grew cold, unfeeling, once again and said, "That is not a story I wish to tell. Maybe at some other time." I thought that if I told her, that would be when I trusted her, which might be never, but I might. I pushed the memory from my head and started to cook some food.

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