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I dump the water into the large wooden basin beside the cabin, and Meera steps back to avoid any droplets landing on her forelegs. I roll my eyes before crouching down to wash this morning’s breakfast dishes.
“You can’t be angry about having a bath forever, you know. You needed a good wash.” She snorts in disagreement. “Well, you smell better, in any case.”
A rabbit darts out of the brush at the edge of the wood and back into cover when it sees us, and Meera shifts on her feet at the movement. I haven’t seen her this skittish since I first rescued her.
She hadn’t been my intended target; her master had. A man who’d raped and murdered a twelve-year-old boy.
After cutting off his dick and letting him choke to death on it, I’d seen her standing in a small paddock behind the house. Thin enough you could count every single rib. Initially I wasn’t going to take her with me, but I couldn’t leave her behind.
We’d laid low together for a few months. She’d gotten her strength back and meat on her bones, and I’d given her time to trust me. We’ve been through a lot these last few years, and more often than not, I trust her instincts.
But I need her to warm up to the forest because I won’t last forever on the fruits and vegetables and oats from the village market. I want fresh game, and at better prices than I can get from the butcher.
“It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” I tell her, dunking the last dish in the soapy water to rinse and setting it on a clean cloth.
She gives me a disbelieving stare, and when two more rabbits race from the edge of the forest, we both look up. My stomach growls at the idea of rabbit stew for dinner. It would be perfect with the carrots, cabbage, and potatoes I picked up at the market yesterday.
Standing, I dry my hands on the edges of the cloth and carry the dishes inside. My dagger sits in the middle of the table, tucked into its protective leather sheath, and my brand-new bow and quiver of arrows are leaning against the corner next to the door.
The butcher warned me about not hunting in the woods when he saw me with my new purchase the day before. His words echoed the goddess’s, but it was hard to take him seriously with a giant flank of venison hanging on a hook behind his head.
Obviously the forest was safe enough for him to venture inside, and I wasn’t going to be warned off simply because I’m a woman. It’s been a while since I’ve used one, but I’m decent with a bow and better with a knife.
I strap the dagger to my thigh and sling the quiver of arrows over my shoulder before heading out the door again and locking it behind me. Meera moves to block me as soon as I round the house, looking down at me in what I swear is disapproval.
“It’s just a few rabbits,” I tell her. “They’ll make a delicious stew.”
I move to go around her, and she again blocks my path with her bulk. Taking a step back, I cross my arms over my chest.
“If you’re so worried about it, why don’t you come with me?”
Her ears flatten, and she takes a handful of steps to the side.
“That’s what I thought,” I say, feinting to the left and then darting around her to the right. “I’ll be back soon. If I don’t survive, you know which way the village is!”
She whinnies at me, but I ignore her. I’m more interested in the rabbits than Meera’s misguided anxiety about the forest. I’ve bathed in the creek twice more and wandered in far enough to find delicious wild berries without meeting an untimely end. A quick trip for a nice supply of meat will hardly be the end of the world.
I hear the flutter of leaves as I draw closer, and I slow my steps so as not to spook the rabbits. Rabbits are easier caught with traps because they move so fast, and it would probably be a good idea to set a few for regular meat, especially when snow begins to fall. For now, I’m hoping to take good enough aim with my bow to get what I came for.
As soon as my boot hits the dense brush rimming the forest, two rabbits shoot out from under the leaves and race away from me. They stop ahead, their noses twitching while they wait to see what I’m going to do.
Quietly, I slide an arrow out of my quiver and nock it to the bow. Drawing it back, I take aim and release. A grin curves my lips as the arrow flies true, but the rabbit leaps out of the way at the last second, and my arrow sinks deep into the mossy dirt instead.
Trudging deeper into the forest to retrieve it, I listen for more sounds of scurrying and follow them through low brush. Another rabbit pauses up ahead, and I nock a second arrow. I can tell it’s going wide before it lands, and the rabbit darts away again.
I sigh. I need a bigger target.
As if summoned, a doe steps out from behind a thick tree trunk and dips her head to collect a mouthful of clover. I’d have to build some kind of larder to store that much meat without it going bad, but venison stew sounds just as good as rabbit, and I’d relish the manual labor to avoid boredom.
Nocking a third arrow, I release it. But it isn’t a clean shot, catching the deer in the meaty part of her flank and sending her bounding off into the forest. Cursing under my breath, I set off after her. I don’t want her to suffer, and I don’t want another predator to make use of my kill, either.
The light dims the further I walk into the forest, but I notice a smear of blood on a leaf and another on a tree trunk. I have to at least be close. She couldn’t have gone too far with an arrow lodged in her hip.
Heavy breathing and a faint snuffling sound draw my attention, and I slow my walk, creeping over the brush in order to not make a sound. I prepare to aim. I want a quick, clean shot. The animal’s suffering isn’t my goal.
A mist so thick I can’t see the ground curls around my legs, and I realize for the first time just how far I’ve wandered into the forest. It’s dark, as if the entire day has passed and it’s already twilight.
There’s a pained groan from the other side of a cropping of thin trees, and I push forward. I shouldn’t be in this far, but I’m too close to my prize to leave it behind. And if I’m successful, I won’t have to make another trip into the forest for a while.
