Hunt

[Nav]

There was a great number of things she didn't know because she never needed to know them. Her family home was far away from most things and self-sustaining, so there was little to loot or acquire. There was a sleepy village nearby, but again, it was poor and wretched, certainly not a place that was even on most maps. It didn't surprise her that all the fascinating things of the outside world never trickled in to her village. It was like they never existed at all. Digesting everything he was telling her, she carefully began to put it all away into memory. He said things like she should have already known them, but… she frowned. She certainly hoped he didn't think her an idiot.

She was a smart girl, she believed. At least her father always told her so, though in a backwards sort of way—too smart to wed well, he mentioned. She was certain there had been times he had wished for a more docile, prettier daughter or a son… but Rowena was what he had gotten. She loved him, and missed him, but not nearly as much as she should have. In fact, she felt quite relieved that he was gone. It was a terrible way to think, but she couldn't help it sometimes. Shaking those thoughts from her brain, she quickly returned to the present. "What a shame," she mentioned off-handedly, idly picking off some horse hair that was stuck to her cape, "About Orcs, that is. I didn't know where they had come from, honestly."

"It's a shame about Rangers, too—some of them having nothing worth doing besides hunting Orcs." She supposed now that her home was gone she, too, had nowhere or anyone worth visiting. Her family was dead. Maybe someday she'd find something worth settling down for, though life was not so certain as it once had been. She hadn't even known what a Ranger was the previous morning, and now she was trekking further from home she had ever been with one—sharing a horse, all the while.

Falling quiet again, Rowena had more than a few questions lingering at the tip of her tongue but decided it best to keep them to herself for now, unsure how thrilled Cullen was with all of her yabbering.

 

[Artorias]

Cullen couldn't hold it against her that she was uneducated in the world that surrounded her. It wasn't like it was common for news boys to carry around current events and stories for farmhands to learn when they are so far out of current events. Staying quiet upon the horse, he listened to her final comment about the Rangers and it was a shame that they had nothing better to do. He was one of the those rangers, but he didn't find her words offensive and instead brushed them off about how backhanded her comment seemed.

The sun beat down on them, with Cullen making only a few rare stops and giving her some water and Lembas bread for another meal. The magical bread was what they would be living on for a long time, until he finally had the taste for something to hunt down and cook over a slow fire.

"Only a few more hours." He stated, the sun was lowering by the hour. It was no longer at its highest peak and was beginning its descent. The journey was boring, only rolling grass was in sight with little to no scenery change. It was almost as if they hadn't been moving forward, but in place in time and just stayed in one spot.

Cullen was still alert and looking for any signs of an ambush that may be laying in the rolling grass. He didn't know what to talk about really. He could practically guess her entire life in one sentence. Farm girl that has never left the safety of home and only knows things about farming and where she lived. Not much to really learn from her besides maybe an odd sighting here or there.

 

[Nav]

The routine, for as exciting as it had been earlier, got boring awfully quick. Her cheek continued to ache but she did her best not to bring it up. More often than not, her hand found the edges of the wound, exploring it subconsciously. Working on a farm, she was used to rough work—her hands were not soft and delicate like a woman's ought to be and her arms were emblazoned with small scars, but the wound in her cheek was a new pain she wasn't familiar with. It pulsed steadily with discomfort and made anything except the most neutral of expressions excruciating. Even when they stopped to eat and drink, Rowena would always take the smallest bites and sips possible so she didn't have to move her cheek much.

The day was mostly quiet. They didn't speak much, neither of them seeming to have anything to talk about. Their lives were both awfully boring and mundane, but in different ways, she supposed. It wasn't until evening, when the sun was melting like caramel towards the horizon did she hear his voice. It took her several long seconds to stir and recognize it again, let alone understand what he was saying. "Hm?" she yawned, "Oh, alright." She was looking forward to doing something new. After a while, the scenery became less than exciting: tree, tree, grassy field, tree, tree.

Her eyes had long since glazed over with indifference and a hint of exhaustion, though more from boredom than exertion. Again, her mind began to wander as silence smothered the space between them. She thought back to her farmhouse and how quickly her life had changed. This time last year, there were four people living happily in that farmhouse—then there was just one loss after another. First family, then the entire house. What a shame.

Despite knowing she ought to have missed it, she didn't. There had always been a part of her that had wondered what was beyond the fields she had grown up knowing. She had listened to her father's stories and found them intriguing and exciting with harrowing escapes, daring rescues, and tragedy; she had always been a little bit of a thespian, though.

 

[Artorias]

The scenery had begun to change as the sun had finally started to set. They must of edged near a forest as more trees began to sprout into view, and soon they were in the thick of them with the sky hidden away through thick branches and colorful leaves. The forest was dense, full of foliage and critters lurking in the darkness. They continued to move through until arriving in the middle of the pathway, where the only direction was straight and to continue going. Instead Cullen turned the reigns and moved Roach between the trees, heading away from the path. "See this?" Cullen asked behind him as they passed a tree, his hand reaching out and running over the bark. A faint, red mark was on the center of the tree as they passed by. "Several different locations all over Middle-Earth are marked. Simply follow the marks until you arrive." He told her, glancing behind him for a moment.

The sun was down, not like it mattered with the trees, but they arrived earlier than he anticipated. An hour or two early wouldn't hurt them, but it was good.

The sound of rushing water soon came into earshot range and after a winding journey through trees and several turns to the point one would think you are lost in the fores, they finally arrived at the mouth of the hideout. It was a cave with a door over the mouth and a horse post to tie Roach to. "Lets see if anyone is inside, shall we?" Cullen commented before dismounting and grabbing his bow. Long sword strapped to his side.

Opening the door, he glanced around before calling out for anyone but to no response. The cave was dark and Cullen entered and grabbed his firestarter kit. There was a cauldron of coal by the door and he set it ablaze, illuminating the front of the cave. Grabbing a torch from the wall, he put it into the fire before pulling it out and going around to illuminate the rest of the hideout. It was dry and warm inside of the cave.

The cave was spacious, with several different beds, armor racks, weapon stands, training dummies and rations of food for the Rangers. Supplies were restocked every few months to make sure no Ranger would go without something in their time of need. "We should tend to your wound first before anything else Rowena." Cullen commented, setting the last torch back into its place on the wall.

 

[Nav]

"Yes, I see that," Rowena remarked, her eyes following the mark he pointed out. The red mark was barely noticeable and she likely would have missed it had she not been looking for it, but when she squinted and concentrated on it, it began to appear through the thick brown and black bark. "Follow the marks, did you say?" That seemed quite rudimentary, but effective, she supposed. Shrugging it off, she looked away and back towards where they were going. It seemed to her a bit foolish to go running through the forest looking at every tree in hopes of finding a wee red mark, though she kept that thought quietly to herself.

Instead, she busied herself with the journey. Darkness was beginning to settle over them. A coolness began to descend against her skin, though she found it quite pleasing. Eventually, the sun had completely disappeared first, below the tree line, and then behind the horizon. They fell into darkness and silence in equal measure. The first sign that they we going somewhere was the sound of water and a short time later, Cullen pulled up his horse. She slid down, dusting herself off. "Yes, I think we shall," she agreed, continuing to follow his lead.

They entered the cave and Rowena squinted to see through the darkness, though she could barely make out any shapes until the fire was started. The warm glow was a welcome one and her eyes quickly racked across each and every feature. Despite her anticipation, the space was entirely unremarkable. The warmth was welcoming at least, she supposed. She had been so busy inspecting everything she very nearly forgot about the open wound on her cheek. At its mention, her hand went up to touch it, feeling a zing of pain creep down her face.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," she sighed, "Very well. What do you have for supplies, then?"

 

[Artorias]

She had the satchel of supplies that he handed her back on the horse, wherever she had placed the pouch. The hideout may have an ingredient or two more than what he had on his own personal bag, but none the less she had already viewed what they had and it almost seemed like she was bored with everything. Like she couldn't focus and remember simple things that didn't even happen a day ago, just this morning. "I already handed you my supplies Rowena, this morning." He stated, curious to see if she actually lost the bag of medicine, dropping it off the horse ride somehow.

He wasn't good at helping with others wounds, his own he could deal with no problem because he knew what he needed and how much he could handle. Grabbing a wooden stool from one of the tables in the cavern, he brought it towards one of the beds--They were indeed beds, the frame crafted from the trees in the forest and the padding was brought in. It wasn't the most luxurious bed, but it sure felt like one after hours of training and constant movement. They had five beds in the cavern, which seemed excessive for the amount of people that probably visited.

"Bring me the bag I handed you, and take a seat in front of me on the bed." They were close to the source of light, the torch on the wall. He chose this spot because of the light, so he could see what he was doing.

 

[Nav]

Touching the wound on her cheek, Rowena withdrew her fingers quickly with a small hiss. The skin there was tender, there was no denying that. Purple bruising blossomed down her pale skin like flowers in spring—bright and vibrant, but quite ugly once one realized where the discoloration came from. It didn't help that the skin around the wound was inflamed and puffy, slightly glossy from early signs of infection. Not bad, certainly treatable, but obviously painful. At his commands, Rowena pulled her hand entirely away from her face and gave a nod. She snapped up the satchel per his directions and came over.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, hooking her ankles, Rowena did as she was told and extended the little satchel out towards him. She was good at treating wounds, she had to do it a lot on the farm, but it was hard to treat a wound on her own face. She couldn't see it for one, and mirrors were difficult to work from. Had she been privy to his innermost thoughts, she would have been rather annoyed that he was questioning whether or not she had lost the bag. She might have been ignorant to the world around her, but she certainly wasn't a dimwit. Thankfully, she couldn't read his mind and that was probably for the best. Instead, a small smile worked its way on to her lips.

"So, we will stay here some time then?" she asked, curious about his plans for her. There was still a twinge of hesitancy in her in his presence, still not entirely trusting of his intentions, but he had yet to try anything against her yet… and that deserved a small smidge of appreciation and respect. There was still the same guardedness as before, but she was opening up to him in small amounts… through smiles and talks. Truthfully, she didn't really miss the farm. There wasn't anything left to miss. She hadn't family, they had long passed, and she didn't particularly crave the simple farm maid's life.

There was a sense of adventure now, and it made her nervous and excited in equal parts. Her life was finally starting, it felt like. She had spent so many years milking cows and feeding horses—doing a whole lot of nothing with nothing, that it was finally her turn for something. "Where will we travel to next? Where is your favorite place you have traveled? Do you have a favorite place?"

 

[Artorias]

Cullen focused on the task at hand, listening to Rowena speak but not really focusing on what she was saying. Luckily it wasn't something too in-depth and required thinking so he was able to easily reply to her questions. "Chatty now are we?" He raised a brow as she bombarded him with questions. He grabbed a small bowl and some leaves. He crushed them into the bowl and then added some powder, and then a bit of water. It soon formed into paste and once he stirred it some more, he dipped his finger inside. He smeared the paste gently over the wound she had on her face. It would help with the healing process and stop the infection, hopefully.

"Yes, we will be staying here for some time. I will teach you how to use a bow, sword and hunt. How to clean your kill, gut it, all of it." He said without much thought, already having a schedule in mind of what she needed to do to learn. Smearing the last bit of paste onto her cheek and making sure it was down. He grabbed a square patch of gauze and placed it over the wound and wetted it down so it would stick with the paste.

"Don't know where we will go after this." He responded truthfully. Sitting back on the stool and examining his basic work, it would hold. He raised his fingers to his beard and began to scratch, needing a bath after being out in the fields hunting orcs for so long. "Minis Tirith. The capital city of Gondor, a beautiful city built into the mountain side. Fresh markets with splendid people. I use to walk along the markets when I was home daily and get fresh produce and meat, a nice change from having to hunt it all the time. I would go home and..." His voice trailed off as the pleasant memory brought up sour ones and he cleared his throat.

"We are going to be together for awhile, traveling and working together. You are bound to find out eventually." He stood up from the stool and went over to the cupboards. He began to rummage for anything and he found himself a bottle of dwarvern ale. He poured two wooden cups of the ale and walked back over to where Rowena sat.

"I have a wife and child....Had a wife and child. I-." He had been judged before by others, but it still didn't stop the lump from forming in his throat. "I'm not a good man. I left them. I put them behind me and walked away from it all." His eyes weren't on Rowena as he spoke the truth, but on the ale in his hand. "I saved you because it was the right thing to do, but maybe I really did it because I want to atone for my sins." He raised the cup to his lips and drank a large portion of his cup before pulling it away from his lips.

"So now you know..."

 

[Nav]

"Ugh. Gut? I hate gutting."

Rowena had been a farmer's daughter, so she was expected to have a certain set of skills, even though it was her father's intention to see her married to a nice boy and to raise a litter of children. She had been expected to help around the farm as a child, which did include slaughtering and butchering farm animals for meals. Hunting had been left to the males in her family and just when she began to ponder what all he had in store for her, he smeared a goop of paste across her wound and all the thoughts jumped right from her brain. She hissed and very nearly recoiled from his touch, but forced herself to remain as stationary as possible. He finished wrapping it with some haste and she brought her curious fingers up to touch his handy work.

It was only when he began discussing his own home did she stop ignoring him and hone into his words. Her brows raised with curiosity up her forehead as he swallowed and choked, fumbling over his own words like a damn fool. "You left your own family?" she mused, taking the second mug of ale and leaning her nose into sniff it. Immediately, her nose crinkled with distaste. "Wow, you're kind of a ninny, you know that right?" Her next step was to tip the mug back ever so slightly, just far enough that she could get the smallest splash of the alcohol on the tip of her tongue. It tasted just as bad as it had smelled, but the warming effect of it running down her throat and into her belly was divine.

She set the cup of ale aside for a moment, just long enough that she could give Cullen a good, hard smack across the cheek. It wasn't likely hard enough (she didn't have the strength) to cause him any real pain, but it got a point across. "Grow a pair, would you?" she said off-handedly, picking up her ale again, "Grow a pair and get it together. From the sounds of it, your family is better off without you, anyways. I ain't going to be any sort of stand-in for your wife, you know. I hope you want to help me because you want to help me, Rowena, not pretend I'm your wife."

Rowena quickly cleared her throat and shook her head. It was her turn to take a big swig of the ale, which she did, to find the burning much less pleasant than it had been the first time. She coughed, trying to swallow it down. "You better not leave me."

 

[Artorias]

The smack to his cheek was unexpected, and the first thing to boil inside of him was anger and it flashed across his face for a mere moment before he stopped himself. Perhaps his family was better off without him, or worse without him. He couldn't stand being tied down, living in a home without exploring and being himself. He was a Ranger and he was cooped up in a home with a Wife who didn't seem to love him anymore because he had been growing distant inside his own head. He felt alive when he was on horseback with a bow in his hand and wind snapping his cloak. "I didn't think of you as a stand-in for my Wife." He admitted. The thoughts of marrying her never crossed his mind but now that she had mentioned it he glanced her over once or twice and thought about what she meant.

He didn't feel bad for leaving his Wife truthfully. He had married her because of her beauty and how he thought he was going to die in the war, and once he returned she was with child. He felt some sort of obligation to raise the child because it was his. Yet he couldn't stay. He wanted to stay for the child, not his Wife.

"We will begin training in the morning Rowena. Get some rest." He told her, drinking the rest of his ale. Standing up, he grabbed the bottle and poured himself another cup, drinking it down before screwing the cork back into the bottle and walking over to one of the beds. The bed was on the opposite side of the cave so she could feel safe that he wasn't sleeping so close to her.

 

[Nav]

"Well good, because I'm not anyone's housewife and I certainly am not going to be your maid."

Rowena dusted off the front of her skirt with her hands, if only to find something to occupy herself with. She had set aside the ale, deciding her stomach couldn't possibly take another sip. That, and she was getting awfully sleepy. The mattress felt squishy underneath her bottom, calling to her drowsy head to come lie down. The nights spent sleeping on the ground had been beneficial, but hardly comfortable. Every inch of her aching form was looking forward to taking a sleep on a more welcoming, warm surface.

Whatever Cullen's intentions had been—with his wife, with his child, with telling her about them—Rowena didn't much care. She had never loved another life a woman ought to love her husband, so she wasn't even entirely sure she understood the gravity of what leaving his wife and child had meant. Perhaps they were better off without him anyways, she reminded herself. Better to have lost than to keep trying to cling on to something, to someone, who didn't wish to be near. A pang of sympathy for the woman and child gripped her heart, but she had felt too much emotion over the last few days and she was beginning to feel emotionally dead. Her batteries desperately needed to be charged and when Cullen welcomed her to sleep, she didn't argue.

Instead, she kicked off her boots at the foot of the bed and flopped down with a groan of contentment. Quickly, she nestled herself below the woven duvet, getting tucked in and cozy in a little burrowed cocoon. "Good night," she murmured, rolling to her side so she was facing the wall the bunk had been pressed up against. The minute the words passed through her lips, she felt herself succumbing to rest. Her eyes closed and her heart grew slow and heavy, beating only when necessary. Her breathing lightened into soft wisps between her slightly-parted lips.

Within moments, her sleepiness succumbed to sleep and her mind wove the most terrific, wild dreams she had experienced in a while. Had she been allowed, she would have slept forever. With no windows, there was no morning light, so she slept well past her usual wake-up.

 

[Artorias]

Cullen had fallen asleep quickly like he always had, like it was a switch he could just turn on or of and put himself to sleep. Even without sunlight pouring into the cave because the entrance was blocked by a door--Cullen had an internal clock that woke him up every morning at the crack of dawn. Eye's cracking open he let out a small yawn before clawing his way out of the comfort of the mattress and onto his feet. He dressed into fresh clothes and glanced over to Rowena who was sleeping still. She looked exhausted so he was going to give her an extra hour of sleep while he prepared them breakfast.

Once breakfast was prepared he walked over to the bed Rowena was occupied in and shook her shoulder. "Wake up Rowena. Big day ahead of us, starting with breakfast and then a quick walk over to the river." The river that was nearby. They needed more fresh water and more importantly, they needed to bathe. If she was too embarrassed to bathe with him nearby and out in the open woods then she would have to get use to it or get use to stinking for months at a time before finding an inn that has a bath.

Shaking her a final time, he walked over to the small table that could seat four with two transportable metal plates. Eggs and meat, along with slices of bread and the last pitcher of water was on the table. Taking a seat he began to dig into the large breakfast, knowing that he would soon burn through it all from the work that was ahead of him. "It is good that you worked on a farm. You have some sturdiness and strength to you. It will come in handy." He nodded his head to her, and then to the open chair with her plate.

 

[Nav]

From the carousel of random ideas comes some order—a subtle awareness of who she was under the flow of thoughts with their loose connections to her waking life. After a few moments more, she began to analyze them in a lazy way, perhaps those ideas were meant to be kept. Some are composed as if from a book she had once read, some were just silly. In another moment, they were gone leaving no trace. If they were still in her head, there is no bread crumb trail back to them. Her eyelids flicker open to the unlit room as her shoulder was jostled. She closed them again, willing the carousel to return, for her mind to tumble back to dreams, but it won't… not when Cullen kept shaking her and speaking to her.

She sighed. The tasks of the day were demanding to think about. She was awake and there was no retreat. Instead, she merely groaned and flopped over on to her side with an annoyed huff. It had been so long since she had last slept in past early dawn, she didn't want to resist the bed. "Breakfast and a quick walk over to the river… wonderful." She muttered, her tone emphasizing the less-than-pleased 'wonderful.' She sat up after a moment. He bare feet touched the cold floor and she hissed, coiling them up closer to herself. Her hair, meanwhile, was a tangled lump of black strands. With disinterest, she combed her fingers through the clutter, smoothing out the locks and eyeing what had been presented on the table.

The breakfast meal seemed marginally inviting and drove the young woman to slip on her boots and stand. "It would appear so," she stated in an unamused tone, "My father, while he was alive, used to refer to me as an oxen." Of course, she had been given certain expectations when she had been the only child and her father had so desperately wanted a son. So, she had been treated like one. She had hauled water and hay, she had cared for the animals, she had repaired the stone fences when they were damaged. She had picked and ploughed fields, and her hands knew all the same work a boy of her age would have known.

She scooted into the chair and without restraint or apology, pulled a hearty breakfast on to her plate. She wasn't a woman to apologize for her small nibbles and, instead, took quite large bites of food. In only a few moments, she had sucked down her breakfast with few manners or regards to what Cullen might have thought of her. Most women were expected to take small bites, chew thoroughly, and eat little, but Rowena couldn't pass up a good meal… especially when it actually tasted somewhat decent.

It was the only damn thing worth getting out of bed for, anyways.

 

[Artorias]

Cullen didn't mind how she ate, it was good that she was getting a big breakfast in. She was going to need it because it would be hours before they would get lunch and have some time to rest before going back to training for the day. He had finished his meal around the same time Rowena had and was grabbing both of the plates and taking them over to an empty bin with the cups from yesterday. He was already dressed and ready to go. "Your equipment is laying on that bed over there." He nodded his head towards the direction of the bed. The bed clearly had new ranger clothing that was close to her size, bow, quiver and arrows, dagger, sword, and satchel/pouch that would strap over the shoulders and go down the chest/back area and was small and compact. Meant to hold money, small items, etc.

It was a lot of equipment but it was what she would be wearing constantly just like Cullen had. If she could haul water and hay all day, some extra clothing and gear should be no big deal. "Put it on, even though you will be taking it off when we get to the river. You need to get use to wearing it all and how to get in it quickly and out." Everything she would be doing would be considered training, something she needed to learn and work on.

Grabbing his own bow, quiver and sword he made way for the entrance and waited on her to get ready. "We will also be chopping firewood later in the day. It isn't really training...the hideout just needs firewood for winter." It could be training. A lot of physical work was required to cut wood.

 

[Nav]

"A change of clothes?"

Her eyes darted back curiously towards the bed where, sure enough, clothes had been laid out for her. They had clearly been sewn for a man's form, with a broad sharpness in the shoulders and a narrow hipline in the trousers, but they would do. Rowena was not a big woman and though she had the very genuine curves of a woman, they were slight in comparison to most. The clothing would suit fine, perhaps a bit awkwardly in places, but her current dress was far from flattering in its own right. Rising from the table, she went to shift through her new belongings.

The cloth was soft and generous in her fingers as she picked up each article. The stitching was strong and they felt warm, much warmer than her dress made of thin blue fabric. More importantly, they felt clean to her touch. "Thank you," she mentioned, glancing back at him though he had already made his way towards the door, his back to her so she could hurriedly work her way out of her garments and into the new uniform. She hastily unbuttoned the back of her dress and it fell, pooling around her feet. She pulled on her trousers and the tunic, fumbling a moment with the satchel, quiver, and sword, but she found places for them all to tie to her person in a comfortable way.

Her bow hung between her fingers as she followed him out the door, having picked up her dress and folded it back on the bed. The freeing nature of her new clothing, of trousers, felt unusual. She could move with every inch of her strength and dexterity without having to worry about lacing pinching her waist in or a skirt shortening her stride. The ranger clothes fit awkwardly, as she had imagined, where they became tight about her hips but sagged slightly at the shoulders and the arms were too long and drooped over her hands a ways.

"Cutting wood? Sure, no problem. I had to cut a whole bunch of wood at the farm." Especially after the remaining family members had passed. "That'd be fine. Where are we going first? The river?"

 

[Artorias]

"Yes, to the river." He replied back, not turning around to watch Rowena change. There was no need to watch her change and it would just make him seem like the man she was afraid he might be, which he wasn't. He had no intimate interest in Rowena at the moment and he didn't plan on it, but things could change. He stopped those thoughts and opened the door, exiting the cave with Rowena in tow back into the deep forest they trudged through to get here in the first place. "Since you grew up on a farm, I'm going to guess you also know how to stitch and sew." She could modify the clothing as best as she could, if it was even possible. He didn't know much about stitching or sewing and couldn't tell her what she needed to do to fix the clothing.

While they made way for the river, Cullen stopped them in their tracks and crouched down to the ground. He pointed forward to a rabbit that was out in the open. It was fat with meat, but a small target for someone new. They didn't need to kill the rabbit for food but it was good practice for her to make the attempt on hitting a small target. He could judge how much training she would need on the bow depending on her form, technique, breath control and of course aim.

"Kill it. Draw an arrow. Keep your breath steady and slow, and focus on the rabbit. Don't lock your arm or else you will pull your shot." He gave her basic instructions on what to do. The rest was up to her.

 

[Nav]

"I do," she replied when he asked her whether or not she knew how to stitch, "My work may not be the most beautiful, but it'll hold." The farm had given her many useful tools to her new life, even if she had never realized it before. All the menial tasks like sewing, hauling hay, and planting had never been of much interest to her—she saw them more as necessary evils than tasks to be enjoyed. Finally, she was beginning to see the value in all of the lessons her father and mother had given her; she could only imagine they were rolling in their graves knowing she had only just then found the usefulness in what she had learned over the years.

Forests, however, were a bit of a foreign entity to her. She was used to the open, rolling plains she had grown up on, so maneuvering through the tangled veins and branches, the mud and the tangle of leaves and brambles was proving difficult. The ground was spongy, like walking on foam, and as she put her full weight down the earth seemed to hug her boots and gently released them with each step. Scent from the foliage, mixed with the dampness and decay, danced through the air and tickled her nostrils. Sprinkles of dew that were lying in wait leapt from their hosts to anoint her with weepy atoms, and cooled her face with their misty kisses.

So busy was she on inspecting the new world around her that she very nearly lost track of where they were going and when Cullen suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, Rowena nearly slammed into him. She crouched down when he did, her eyes quickly landing on the small bunch of fur only a few yards in front of them. The rabbit must have sensed them because its lower job stopped moving and the blade of grass it had been gnawing on hung from between its muzzle. Its ears were up and alert, but it hadn't moved.

Never in her life had Rowena properly strung a bow and shot an arrow, but her movements were quick and quiet. She reached back and pulled an arrow from the quiver, stringing it properly (like she had seen) across the bowstring and pulling it tight. The bow's bend met her with some resistance, but she was strong enough to hold it. She aimed as best as she could, though aiming with an arrow was a whole new trick she didn't quite understand and exhaling one last time, she released the arrow between her heartbeats. The arrow slammed into the dirt a few inches from the rabbit and the little critter took off in a frenzy.