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“Sure,” I nod, stepping aside to let him pass, as I’m still standing between him and the entrance to his cottage. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I don’t wait for him to go inside. Instead, I make my way back to my cottage, the soft crunch of leaves beneath my boots echoing. The moon casts a silvery glow over the clearing, and I hear the chatter coming from the square.
As I enter my cottage, the flickering flame of a single lantern illuminates the rustic interior. I take a quick glance at the walls adorned with maps and trinkets that tell stories of countless wilderness adventures. I pass them by without a second glance, and settle into a worn but comfortable chair, as the events of the night keep replaying in my mind.
My thoughts keep drifting to Elena, the mysterious girl we’ve encountered. I have no idea why she left such an impression on me. I know that it’s the same for Rock. There is something about her, something that’s pulling me, refusing to let go, although I know it makes no sense. I’ve barely spoken to her properly. But that’s how it is in the bear shifter world. When you meet someone for the first time, you can smell who they are, what they want, and most importantly, if you want to be around them.
That rarely happens with humans. They’re different from us. That’s why we’ve always kept our distance. They don’t understand our way of life and we don’t understand theirs. Such misunderstandings always breed aggression and trouble, and it’s best to simply avoid it.
Only sometimes, you can’t avoid threats. They find you on their own. The realization that there is another bear clan threatening to attack leaves us all in a state of panic, as our very existence becomes unpredictable. But Rock is always there, steady as a… well, rock.
I chuckle to myself, remembering how even Elena thought that he was talking about actual rocks when he introduced himself. She awakened something in him, something I haven’t seen before. And now, all those defensives… it has to mean something. I know it does.
I can’t help but wonder what the new day will bring. As I extinguish the lantern, leaving the room bathed in almost pitch darkness, a mix of anticipation and apprehension settles in my chest. With a sigh, I close my eyes, embracing the solitude of the night. Tomorrow is a new day, full of challenges and unknowns, especially in light of everything that has happened.
I slowly drift off into restless sleep, as the wilderness outside remains at bay, keeping its secrets.
Chapter Five
Elena
It was raining all morning, and after about an hour, I decided to pack all my valuables and take them with me to Pinehaven. A warm cup of coffee inside a diner would do me some good, maybe even a proper breakfast. A bit late, I think to myself as I glance at my watch, but better late than never.
As soon as I step into Pinehaven, eerie silence descends upon me like a shroud. I walk slowly, glancing about with curiosity. The cobblestone pathways echo with the hollow sound of my footsteps. The cottages seem to lean away from me, casting elongated shadows. Windows are tightly shut, as if the villagers are shielding themselves from an unwelcome presence. The soft breeze carries the hushed whispers of leaves, in absence of human voices. For a moment, I wonder if this is some ghost town.
But then, I finally see people. They are huddled in small groups at the village square, their voices lowered to barely audible murmurs. I head over to them, but their eyes flicker with uncertainty and wariness. I am surrounded by unspoken tension and the misty veil of mistrust.
I try to look at it from their point of view. They’re probably a closed community, a small one at that. They’re not used to outsiders, or they simply don’t like them, as is their right. Still, the hostility feels overpowering and somehow… needless.
I’m wondering which way to turn, to find a restaurant or a diner, but I’m reluctant to approach a group of people, who are obviously all talking about me. I don’t even need to see them staring in my direction to know.
At that moment, I notice a lone figure aside from everyone else, standing by a weathered wooden post. Our gazes meet, hers with a mixture of apprehension and forced courtesy. I approach her, and it almost seems that she will turn around and run away, just so she wouldn’t have to speak to me. But her feet keep her in place as I near her.
“Excuse me,” I ask, trying to sound as friendly as possible, “could you recommend a place to eat around here?”
The lady looks at me, her steel cold blue eyes staring deeply. At first, I’m not even sure that she will reply, but after what seems to be a lengthy silence, she does.
“There is a small inn on the outskirts of the village,” she tells me, pointing in a certain direction. “You’ll find it down that path.”
“Thank you,” I smile nervously, wondering if this was a good idea.
I follow the path I was given, but the atmosphere doesn’t shift. I keep noticing the fleeting glances of people I pass by, and the hushed conversations that accompany my every step. After a short while, the inn’s façade comes into view.
I have to admit that it is, more or less, what I expected it to be. There is a quaint charm to it, but also a note of somber neglect, as if someone had built it up to a certain point to make it fully functional, then left the aesthetics to the wind. A wooden sign creaks overhead, bearing the faded name. The Pinehaven Inn. I scoff at the originality.
I keep approaching it, surveying the whole place. If I weren’t so freaked out by the people, I would actually like the ivy creeping up the weathered walls and the windows. But something tells me that this won’t be a safe haven at all.
You can still go back, reason tells me.
But my stomach growls in response and it is settled. I push open the door, and a gust of chilly air greets me as I stepinside. The atmosphere inside is even worse than outside. The air is thick with the scent of aged wood mingling with a hint of extinguished hearth. Dim lanterns hang from wooden beams, casting pools of warm light, as the dirty windows barely let any in. The low hum of muffled conversations pauses briefly as the innkeeper glances at me. In fact, everyone does.
I swallow heavily, feeling all those eyes on me. But now that I’m inside, I will get what I came here for. Trembling slightly, I walk to the innkeeper, a stout figure with a worn apron dirtier than the windows, if such a thing was even possible.
“Hello,” I smile, in an effort to keep a friendly demeanor despite the palpable tension here. He doesn’t say anything in return, and just keeps wiping a glass with a cloth. So, I decide to continue. “Do you have a menu I could take a look at?”
Someone snickers behind me, but I don’t turn around.
“We’ve got stew and bread,” he grumbles. “That’s it.” His gaze avoids direct eye contact.
