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Chapter 8 by thestarwarrior thestarwarrior

What's next for our heroine and her brother?

Head into the woods.

Christine was the first to wake that morning as the dawning light peeked through the trees and brushed over her soft, worn face. The only comfort she and her brother had that night was the softness of each other’s wet bodies and the stiff twigs separating them from the damp muddy ground. Lifting her tender body, Christine peeked her head out from her hiding spot to see if the danger had passed.

She could see a few of the local villagers that had taken shelter in the wood with them lumbering out of the damp and moldy trees. Some were heading back into the village to see if things had finally calmed down while others, mostly women and children, held back at the foot of the forest, awaiting the men’s return.

A few moments passed before one of the men could be seen returning to the woods, motion for the others to come out. As the crowd started to make their way back to their homes, Christine considered fallowing them. However, just before she could step out from behind the trees, she noticed that the King’s Guard accompanied the men to the woods.

Quickly and quietly, she rustled her younger brother from his sleep. He was about to ask her what had happened when Christine shushed him. As she tightly bundled Erik up in his cloak, she glanced around the tree trunk. The guards were going through the crowd, showing them a strip of paper. Christine couldn’t tell what was on it from her vantage point, but she had a hunch that her portrait was on it.

Thankfully it looked like none of the villagers hadn’t noticed her in the confusion as they all shook their heads once they were shown the portrait. Not wanting to test the villager’s loyalty, Christine covered her face with her cloak, gently took her brother’s hand, and led him deeper into the woods.

Oldchester was over a day’s ride away and close to three by foot, so if they wanted to at least reach the next town before nightfall, then they needed to keep a steady pace. As they made their way through the woods, Christine tried to keep the main road insight so that they wouldn’t get lost.

The old woods were deep and overgrown, and it wasn’t unheard of for people to walk in and never come back out. It was also the perfect hiding place for bandits and thieves who may have had something to do with the disappearances.

An hour had passed, and soon the two youths could hear the sound of growling, thankfully not from the woods. They were in such a rush to leave the castle and the village that they hadn’t thought to pack any food. Christine through that perhaps the forest could provide for them, but as she looked through the treetops, all she could find that looked remotely edible were the acorns.

Then, about two hours into their trip, they caught the scent of a campfire and the unmistakable smell of meat being cooked. Christine could still remember her father’s warning not to trust anyone, even people they knew. But again, their stomachs rumbled, egger to be filled.

Do they follow the smell?

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