A remote hunting cabin

The rope went taut, shaking free frozen flakes of mist that had accumulated over the last few hours. A young man, no more than twenty, looked up warily at the clouds. He could smell a storm brewing in the air and the clouds above were already beginning to darken. It wouldn't be long now before the winds and snow hit the small island.

The cold burned the young man's hands as he pulled the rope from the salty, frost ridden ocean. With a grunt emanating deep from his barreled chest, he pulled and a cage emerged from the waters.

“Damned bastards even took the bait,” The young man said, looking disappointingly at the empty cage before dropping it back in the shallow water. He turned, looking back at the small hunting cabin that sat on a hill just a stone's throw from the beach. He searched to see if any in his party had fared better during their hunting trip.

Before he could give the cabin a second glance,though, the young man felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He turned and watched with amazement as the air a few feet above the ocean water crackled with unseen energy.

“What in the gods?!” he exclaimed, staring up at the sky in disbelief as the air seemed to twist in on itself. Then a loud crack and a bright green-blue flash made him turn his eyes away; when he looked back, the disturbance in the air was gone and instead an ashen-haired girl hung in the air for the briefest of moments before she fell like a rock into the cold ocean water.

~

Ciri groaned as she opened her eyes. The last thing she remembered was running, her shoulder injured. She was being chased, she had-

A loud crack erupted from the fire as a log split in two grabbing Ciri’s attention. Wherever she had been, she was there no longer. Now she was somewhere warm.

Tentatively, she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. The fire was roaring, filling the small cabin with light and warmth. It smelled of seawater and dust. Ciri's eyes narrowed at a figure sitting on the end of the bed on which she was resting.

“W-where am I?” Ciri asked hoarsely.

The figure turned to look at Ciri, his eyes widening. He leaned in closer to get a better look at her and the fire illuminated his features. He was young with reddish brown hair and a week-old beard.

“You’re awake,” He said with some measure of surprise.

Another sound came from across the cabin and Ciri became aware that there was another man standing with his back to Ciri. He didn't bother to turn to face her. This man's back was wide and he had the stance of an older man, a man who had seen a few battles in his time.

The older man gave Ciri a glance over his shoulder and grunted, “Good.”

Their accents, the way they were dressed, the salt in the air... Ciri was sure that she was in Skellige.

"We're on a island west of Undvik," The younger man said. Then he paused for a moment before speaking again. "I found you in the waters just outside this hunting cabin."

"And you're lucky he did," The older man interjected. "The waters are damned cold this time of year."

"Thanks," Ciri muttered. She was regaining her senses slowly. She pushed herself up on her elbows.

"Who are you, Girl?" The man who had his back turned grunted. He still didn't bother to turn.

Ciri stared at his back for a moment before speaking.

"My name is Ciri," The young woman said quietly.

"Erik," The younger man replied before nodding over to the older man. "That is Asger and another, Bjorn, is out looking for some herbs to help you recover."

Ciri nodded to the younger man, but then her brow furrowed. She looked down and a hastily-put bandage on her shoulder. She also noticed that on one side her shirt had been pulled down. She shrugged her shoulders to slip her blouse back up. It barely hurt.

"No need for any herbs," Ciri said, shaking her head. "I just-"

"Rest," The younger man, Erik, interrupted, motioning for Ciri to lie back. "You need to rest and warm yourself, the cold can sap your strength like no other. Besides," He turned to look at the only window in the cabin and the snow beating against it. "You wouldn't make it far dressed as you are." His eyes drifted down her body as he spoke, his face flushing slightly before turning away.

It was true, Ciri thought. Her white shirt was thin, her brown pants made of tightly-sewn leather that did little hide her form or protect her from her elements. The corset around her waist was to protect herself from small blades, not a blizzard.

"Where you from, Girl?" The older man, Asger, asked. He finally turned to face Ciri, giving her a good look at him. He was a much older and larger man than Erik, with a grey beard covered most his face. A jagged scar ran over his large hooked nose. "Rare that anyone sails this close to Undvik."

"Then why are you here?" Ciri replied, gently letting herself back down onto the bed. She adjusted herself to get comfortable.

"No better hunting in all of Skellige," Erik answered.

Asger continued to stare hard at the young woman.

"You didn't answer the question," He said stonily. "What business does a pretty continental girl like you have in a place like this?"