#whumpcember2023day8

[maironsbigboobs]

@whumpcember day 8: isolation

(warning for implied/threat of sexual assault)

Larnach's daughter is alone in the forest.

-

The daughter of Larnach did not frighten easily.

She was not a child. She was a grown woman, young as she was, but she had never been easy to scare even when she was small. Stories of monsters and mighty warriors had only inspired her, to the amusement of her father, and the dismay of her mother.

In the depths of the woods, she wandered alone, basket on her arm. The trees seemed to leer down at her, watching with ancient eyes. It was dangerous in the woods these days, even so close to home, even for the bravest of women. But she paid the trees no mind.

After all, she was alone.

There was no one watching from the trees. She was sharp-eyed. She would have seen them; it was only a trick of the trees, if she thought she glimpsed movement between the branches.

She continued on the trail of fresh mushrooms. In the distance, she heard the howl of a wolf, but she barely paid it a second thought - wolf packs rarely game into these woods, not in any of her people’s stories. They never crossed the river. There was little this side of the water to tempt wolves. They feared the fire and blades of men too greatly.

Her basket was nearly full now.

The forest thickened, and she hiked up her skirts to climb through the undergrowth. For those who dared to look, the best mushrooms could be found beneath the brambles and nettles. Her father would forgive her wandering if she brought some of those home. She bent down -

Snap.

She bolted upright, chest tight. A sudden feeling came over her, of shadows leering at her from the dark. She could not see anything through the leaves. Her heart hammered, but she steeled her nerves, and climbed back to the path.

Perhaps it had just been an animal. Yes; a shy fawn, perhaps, or a goat escaped from the homestead.

She turned and her eyes locked with a wolf’s.

Not a wolf’s, but a man’s, cold and hard and grinning. Her gaze darted to the left, to the path back to her village - but there was another man, his eyes dark.

She was not alone. But she was; there was no great hero here to save her; not her brother, not her father, no one.

Larnach’s daughter dropped her basket and ran, and the wolves ran after her.

[blogger360ncislarules]

An uncomfortable post 9x14 therapy session for Hetty.

@whumpcember