Huntress

by markicha
*gift from SSE 2021. Thank You! She is beautiful!




The ground was hard, far too hard for digging. She worked the frozen earth, her talons scraping and clawing. The work was slow and taxing, but she was used to such hardships. Her hands, though fine and white, were still as callused and strong as any hunter's.

Surrounded by the pines that ruled the valley, she worked in silence. Even though she was not trying to hide, it was hard to spot her against the ground she was working on. Her dark, nearly raven crest feathers kept falling loose from the folds of her hood. They stood out in stark contrast to the pale skin they laid against. She was not pretty. Not even he had called her that. But she was still somehow... Alluring... Yes, that was the word he had used. Especially when combined with her almost-too-large eyes and sculpted mouth.

She focused back onto the work at hand. Even in early spring, it was nearly impossible to turn the frozen ground. It took hours, and even then she was only able to cut a furrow about a foot deep. Finally, she gathered stones that were lying about. By the time the sun had fallen to late afternoon, the grave had been completed. She stared at the pile of stones stacked over him, her vision blurring for a moment. She blinked her eyes rapidly to clear them. She had no time for grief. There were still survivors to get away to safety.

That, and beastclan to hunt.

The Huntress lifted her aching form from the ground as she gathered her weapons and pack. Looking back at the grave of her husband, she tried to remember. It had only been a year since their quiet wedding... Now she was a widow. She knew better than to say it wasn't fair. Nothing was fair in the valley. But...

She looked back on their life together. She tried to find fault for what had happened. Could they have earned this end somehow? Her mind rebelled against the idea.

He had always been the smart one. All she had ever been was cunning. He had told her they were the same thing, but she didn't think so.

Finally, the frustration was too much. She screamed the question at the valley, her weapons drawn in challenge. She screamed it until her beautiful voice was raw and grating, and the scream became the snarling growl of a predator. The valley did not answer, it never did. The question remained, though, echoing throughout the icy air: "Where did we go wrong?"