Marcella, Blood Tight

She stood on the crest of a mountainous range, scanning the little village below her.
The wind blew her auburn hair across a scar on her neckline; one of the many scars all over her small slender body.
Fear pitted her stomach as she wondered "Would I be accepted among the villagers here this time? I am never accepted anywhere else so why would here be any different?"
She asked to herself as she sighed deeply. "Oh well, here we go again!" she said to herself. "Please accept me in this village."
Hoping against hope that she would finally find a village community to call home, she started along the long winding path through the thick dark dank forest down toward the village with her trusty heavy side satchel.
Even though it always used to weigh her down quite a bit it always proved useful in the past for her.
It also contains a few things that are incredibly special to her. So special she could neither throw them away nor ever replace them even though they were older than she knew.