Chapter Text
The sun shined down, its bright, unfiltered yellow or blinding and pounding down onto the green Earth underneath, and with it, bringing to life everything in the surrounding area.
Waverly heard the rustling of the leaves as she walked down the trail, arm out to feel each branch, leaf and flower brush against her fingers and palm. She hummed as she felt the sunshine down on her back, heating up her skin and forcing her to pull her brown hair into a loose ponytail.
She paused as she saw the trail she usually followed split into two, and looked at the unknown path she always passed. She glanced at the dirt path in front of her, looking at the familiar trees and bushes, encroaching on the path itself. She sighed and took a step forward, eyes still locked on the path she always passed up, its trail dipped downward, darkening naturally into its own cave of greenery.
She forced herself to look away, instead turning to look at the thin barrier of trees between the trail she had always took, the homes of the farmers in the distance, a constant reminder of how far she was able to go. How far she was allowed to go. And it was certainly the only distance she ever went, never wanting to invoke the wrath of her sister or knights or any of the townspeople.
She halted her steps, gaze shifting between the basket in her hand, the town beyond the trees, and the trail behind her. After multiple repetitive head movements, she let out a huff and spun around, stomping back to the fork in the path.
Screw that.
With easy resolve, she made her way down the trail, letting its slope pull her forward with quick speed. Her heart sped up slightly with excitement, feeling as though she was being pulled into another world. A world that was only a few steps away, a boundary line that Waverly never dared to step over. The ground quickly flattened, and she stumbled as she attempted to find her balance again. After nearly tripping over branches, she found her equilibrium and walked further into the forest, looking at every tree and bush.
The overhead trees seemed to grow taller, sunlight breaking into broken patterns. Waverly found it beautiful, and found herself skipping through the trees, an excitement coursing through her body, having never been through the darker, much clustered section of the woods. It was far enough that Waverly saw nothing but trees and sloped dirt, no trace of the town in sight.
She passed by a low bush of flowers and paused, backtracking slightly to examine further. It was a bright, beautiful flower, just enough in a patch of sunlight to allow it to seemingly glow against the greenery.
Waverly quickly pulled off her bag she had carried with her, a hand sewn gift from her Aunt Gus years ago, after it was clear Waverly had a distinct love for reading and writing, scribbling what she could on any parchment of paper she could find or afford. Now, its leather had cracked, and the stitches had been redone multiple times, but Waverly still brought it with her everywhere.
She pulled out a leather-bound journal, as well as her ink and feather pen. She hunkered down in front of the flowers and opened it, each page crinkling loudly until she found a blank page near the end.
Damn, she was going to have to beg Wynonna to save some of the kills for coin.
She quickly decided to worry about that another day. It wasn’t an unusual predicament she found herself in, she was just going to have to write particularly small.
She quickly wrote down her notes, flickering her gaze back and for the between the flower and the paper in front of her. She took in as many notes as possible, noting its color, the shape, the stems it sprouted from. The way it reached for the sun, trying to get away from the surrounding shade it was growing in.
It reminded Waverly of herself, constantly reaching to spread farther than the confines of her surroundings. Of reaching towards freedom and shine to grow, to get away from restrictions and demands of where she was and was not allowed to go. Waverly reached up and trailed a hand down one of its petals, its soft, silky texture bringing a smile to her face.
She had written a sizeable amount when the sound of a branch snapping ripped her gaze away from her notes. She looked towards a cluster of trees, eyes squinting as she tried to look between the thick trunks.
Seeing nothing but the deep forest beyond, she shrugged to herself fand continued back to her notes. She didn’t get very far when she heard another snap, this time on the other side of the woods. She gasped and snapped towards the sound, body now alert. Again, she looked in between the tree trunks, and again, saw nothing.
Heard nothing.
That gave her pause. She couldn’t hear the bugs buzzing around, nor did she hear the birds overhead. The normal sounds were gone, replaced with an eerie silence that chilled Waverly to the bone despite the heat, the lack of wind constricting against her lungs.
The silence started buzzing into her ears, her breathing quickening as her heart thumped against her chest. Another branch broke somewhere behind her, booming in the otherwise still woods, causing her to shoot up to a standing position. She felt herself back into the bushes, prickling her back as she looked around frantically.
Nothing. She saw absolutely nothing.
She quickly gathered her things with shaking hands, throwing it all in her bag before running back. She tripped up the hill she had come down from several times, scraping her knees on the dirt as she heard another snapping branch reach her ears.
She didn’t bother looking back, her gaze focused only on the trail in front of her. It took too long to reach the top of the slope, dirt coated her skirt and hands, and as soon as the ground became even again, she sprinted back to the village outskirts.
It wasn’t until the trees that had lined the farmlands, the barrier between the safety and peace of home-grown vegetation and live-stock and the dangerous forest, were far behind her that she jerked to a stop. Her legs and lungs burned, and she doubled over, basket crashing to the ground as she placed her hands on her knees, body wracking with each gasp to catch her breath. All she heard was her breathing and the blood rushing to her ears that she hadn’t realized someone came up to her until she felt a hand on her shoulder.
She spun around, too tired to let out a gasp, and she stumbled backwards. Strong hands caught her by the arms and she blinked up at the body in front of her, her focus finally shifting back to normal and the buzzing in her ears subsiding.
“Waverly? What’s wrong?” She looked up at the knight in front of her, one of the few the dingy, average village, unremarkable to anyone passing through, had for protection.
“Dolls,” Waverly breathed out. “It’s nothing.” The knight, Dolls, looked behind him, towards the trees she had ran out of.
“Nothing made you run out of there for your life?” He turned back to her, staring at her with such intensity that had her sink into the ground. He simply stared, waiting for an answer, and Waverly cursed at herself.
“Yes?” Dolls raised an eyebrow and leaned back, finally giving Waverly space, and let out a sigh that exuded disappointment and frustration. Waverly looked down and scrunched up her skirt. “I mean, I thought I heard something.”
“Like what?” Dolls immediately asked.
“Like... branches snapping?” Waverly mumbled, and Dolls paused, seemingly thinking her words over.
“Someone could have been following you. Or it’s a threat to the village.” Dolls spoke firmly, already putting his hand on his sword’s hilt. “Don’t move.” He ordered, turning around and unsheathing his blade. Waverly opened her mouth to say something, but Dolls was already stalking down the field, sword out in front of him, and she simply let out a sigh. She looked down at the basket, berries sprawled about in the grass.
With shoulders slumped, she knelt down and began the painstaking process of plucking the berries from the grass, transferring them to the old wooden basket. She slowly picked them one by one, quickly realizing how many she had dropped. By the time she picked what she could find, the basket was only half its original amount. She leaned back, sitting in the grass and gazed out in front of her, the overgrown blades swaying in the wind, effectively hiding any berries from sight.
She thought back to the woods, to the eerie quiet that overtook the forest, with seemingly Waverly at its center. It was a quiet Waverly had never heard before, not that she went deep in the woods often, but she had heard stories from others, from her father, Willa, and Wynonna, even the travelers and hunters that visited the tavern.
From everyone who had the liberty to go beyond Purgatory lines regularly and with ease. Something she never had.
Waverly took a deep breath, one that rattled her bones, and looked around as she exhaled her nerves. She saw the farmers on the outside, tending to the vegetation that grew in the ample fields, the hot sun beating down their backs.
The sound of leather and metal clashing together caused her to look up, finding Dolls walking up to her. She grabbed the basket and shot up, too anxious to wait, deciding to meet him halfway.
“Well?” Waverly asked. Dolls simply stood tall and he looked up, staring above Waverly’s head, as if steeling himself. He let out a heavy exhale again, eyes boring into Waverly’s.
“There was nothing.”
Oh. Waverly looked down, feeling ashamed of herself, of putting Dolls through the effort of leaving his post, everyone in the village knew how seriously the knight took his job, the oath to protect.
And he left his route to ensure she was safe. Over what was probably her over-active imagination. Over being a nuisance.
And she absolutely felt like one as Dolls looked at her in a similar way as others in her life, like she was a bother to the. The same familiar feeling washed over her, starting from when she was a child and she got too close to family discussions, one hardened look from her father and she slunk back into her darkened corner.
From Willa who snapped at her to go back inside the home, away from the hunts, a theme that continued even to Wynonna and eventually exuded in the same way throughout Purgatory.
Shut up and stay where you belong. Words no longer spoken, but still hung in the air of everyone in the village.
“Don’t go back into the woods,” Dolls sharp words cut through the air, startling Waverly back to reality. “Take what you have home, your sister should be back soon.” Waverly almost scoffed at the last remark, Wynonna didn’t have to watch her, she wasn’t a child, something everyone seemed to be needing constant reminding of. Dolls moved to walk away but Waverly stopped him with her words.
“Please don’t tell Wynonna.” Dolls paused and turned just enough to look at her.
“Waverly…” He began with a sigh.
“Please, I’d never hear the end of it.” Waverly could already hear Wynonna’s repetitive scolding.
“Only if you don’t go near the forest again,” Waverly immediately opened her mouth, only to close it again. A retort wouldn’t do any good. “It’s for your own safety.” Dolls added and it wasn’t until Waverly gave him a slow, defeated nod that he turned back and continued on his patrol.
Waverly sighed as she turned and walked back to the heart of the village, a few of the farmers she had passed waved her, ones that she cheerily returned. It wasn’t long until she saw the number of building increase, popping up more and more until she was the heart of the village, buildings now clustered together, the bustling of the townspeople buying and selling goods, going through their day.
A small smile graced her lips as she passed by all the villagers, watching them all in their own little bubble, listening to the sounds and breathing in all the scents. She still had a bit of a trek until she reached the homestead, and she often enjoyed watching the world around her during her strolls.
She paused multiple times to look through the vendors, making small talk with many people, and buying a loaf of bread for Wynonna, who would mostly likely be hungry. She was almost home when she heard her name being called, causing her to pause and let out a sigh at the recognizable voice.
“Hey, Waverly!” She saw Champ Hardy run towards her, arm waving widely and a dopey grin on his boyish face. When he reached her she was able to see dirt all over his sweat covered body, and she mused he must have had come from herding cattle.
“Hey, Champ.” Waverly replied, taking a small step back from him.
“Out picking again?” He asked, looking at the berries, frowning at the amount. “Was there a berries shortage or something?” Champ laughed, then his eyes brightened, and pointed somewhere behind him. “If you need some more, I have some at my house.”
“No, Champ, it’s okay, thank you.” Waverly quickly said. Recently Champ had been more insistent than usual in his advances, frequently trying to invite Waverly to his home, often making excuses that involved simply stopping by. She had politely declined each time, and hoped that Champ had pure intentions each time, but the way she saw his eyes hungrily roam her body when he thought she wasn’t looking made her want to recoil in disgust. Champ’s shoulders slumped as she shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Can I… walk you home?” He asked nervously, and despite his crudeness, Waverly felt her heart warm up at his moment of gentleness, however fleeting it was. She smiled and nodded, giggling as Champ held out his arm, appearing like a perfect gentleman, one that Waverly frequently dreamed about as a child, and allowed herself to lean against his clammy and muscular arm.
Waverly had to admit, Champ was a nice distraction and her nerves had calmed down considerably by the time they reached the homestead. She simply listened as he droned on about his day, filled with hard, various work, helping with manual labor when it was available.
She tried to not roll her eyes too hard when Champ mentioned Stephanie Jones passing by, explaining how well she had looked in colorful words. Luckily, the homestead was in view and Waverly couldn’t help the muttering under her breath.
“Oh, thank goodness.” She breathed out.
“What?” Champ asked.
“Uh, nothing,” Waverly replied quickly. “Thank you, Champ.” Champ grinned and held up hand, giving her a sloppy kiss.
“If you ever need the company, let me know,” His eyes lowered slightly, looking down her body before snapping back up and glancing at the homestead. Waverly slipped her hand out of his grip, her body feeling slightly uncomfortable under Champ’s gaze. “You think your sister’s home?”
“She’s probably on her way back right now,” Waverly replied, knowing the raggedy carriage they owned was no where in sight. “I’ll have to be ready to cook. Goodbye, Champ, and thank you.” She gave him another wave and walked away before he could say anything else. She hadn’t checked behind her until she was indoors, glancing out her kitchen window to see him far away now, his back turned, and she sighed in relief that he hadn’t tried to follow her inside.
She collapsed onto the kitchen table, placing the berries onto the center of the table. After a few moments of silence, nothing but the creaks of the old building and the wind moving the curtain of the open window.
Well, no point in just sitting here. Waverly stood up and quickly moved onto the few chores she had left around the home. The quicker she finished it, the quicker she could study her notes, or read one of the few books she had been able to save for.
Multiple chores done and chapters read, there was still no sign of Wynonna and Waverly began to worry. The sun was beginning to set, and she hoped it only meant Wynonna was going to come back with good news. She hoped because the alternative was much, much worse. She was ready to run back into town, into Nedley’s own home when the sound of a horse reached her ears and she ran out the front door, relief washing over her.
She watched as both Wynonna and Doc jumped out of the small carriage attached to their horse, Doc tipping his hat towards Waverly when he noticed the smaller brunette at the doorway.
Waverly watched as Doc joined Wynonna at the bed of the flat cart, in just as much disarray as everything else they owned. Once Wynonna rounded the corner, she noticed a rabbit in each hand and Doc followed, holding a squirrel of his own.
“Hey, baby girl,” Wynonna grumbled, finally looking up at Waverly. The younger Earp frowned as she followed Wynonna and Doc to the barn, where they placed the carcasses on the far table against the wall, wood stained a dirty, dark, rusty color, the sight of which made Waverly want to gag. “How’d your day go?”
“Fine… what about you? You look… not that happy.” Wynonna scoffed as she lined up the three animals, examining each one before moving to the pile of tools that lay at the end of the table.
“Of course not, Waves, we got nothing,” Wynonna muttered, picking up a cleaver, moving on autopilot. “All that time and nothing.”
“Wynonna,” Doc appeared next to her, moving past her and picking up one of the rabbits. “This one received a clean cut, I do believe it is a viable sell.”
“Go ahead, Doc,” Wynonna waved him off, and Doc eagerly plucked it off the table. “Better share that coin.”
“Why, of course, love.” He grinned and tipped his hat towards Waverly again. “Waverly.” Waverly nodded and watched as Doc walked out of the barn. Wynonna sighed and looked at Waverly with an apologetic look, cleaver still in hand.
“I’m sorry, Waverly, we went to the usual routes and it was quieter than usual, it was weird.”
“Quiet?” Waverly perked up a that, her own experience coming to her mind.
“Yeah, we couldn’t find the big kills, we got this and headed back before it got too late. We stayed as long as we could, but,” She shrugged. “It’ll do for tonight, I guess.” Waverly nodded and wanted to say more, say that Wynonna had done her best, she always did for Waverly, but Wynonna stood still, cleaver in the air, waiting for Waverly to leave. Waverly took the silent cue, and began her way out of the barn, flinching slightly at the sound of the blade coming down onto the table once she was at the door, hearing bones crunching.
She prepared the stove, waiting for her sister to come in with the fresh kill, knowing her sister was ready to simply drop the food off to Waverly and freshen up. By the time dinner was prepared and Waverly was setting the table, the aroma of the cooked food filling the kitchen, she saw Doc ride up on his horse.
“Good afternoon, Waverly.” He greeted as he walked through the door, not needing permission any longer. He sat at the table, placing his hat down as Waverly placed a plate in front of him. “This looks delicious, as always.”
“Doc, you’re just being sweet,” Waverly chuckled, the sound of Wynonna’s heavy boots coming closer. The older brunette walked through the doorway in fresh clothes, breathing in Waverly’s cooking as she wrapped her arms around Doc’s neck.
“Smells good, Waves,” Wynonna then turned to Doc. “Got enough to hit the tavern?” At Doc’s nod she grinned and bounded to her chair with newfound energy. Waverly looked down at the plates in front of her, meat, lettuce, and berries placed perfectly in its spot.
“So, I was thinking,” Waverly began, placing both plates on the table before taking a seat herself. She used her fork to push the food around the plate, not daring to meet Wynonna’s eyes. “If I joined you guys, you could bring home more food and-”
“Absolutely not.” Wynonna snapped, shoving a mouthful of food into her mouth.
“I could help!” Waverly snapped back, not ready to end the conversation yet. “I know how to use a bow and arrow, and you could bring more kills home, and you could cover more land, and-”
“W-wait, hold up,” Wynonna held up a hand, confusion on her face. “How do you know how to use a bow?” Her icy blue eyes bore into Waverly’s hazel ones and the younger woman squirmed in her seat.
“Well, I never shot one, but I watched Champ use one, I’m sure it’s not that hard…” Wynonna scoffed.
“Fucking Champ, but the answer’s still no, you could get hurt.” Wynonna replied, voice tight, angrily cutting into her meat. Waverly paused, frowning into her food, nothing but the sound of silverware clinking filling the room. She raised her eyes, looking at Wynonna.
“I want to help.” She watched as Wynonna sighed, lowering her hands onto the table and staring in front of her, burning a hole into the wall if she could.
“I know you do,” Wynonna said, pinching the bridge of her nose, the frustration hadn’t quite left her voice. She let out a heavy sigh and placed her fork down, reaching out to take Waverly’s hand in her own. “And you do help, here, at the homestead, where its safe.”
Safe. All Waverly heard was how safe it was for her to stay home, how she needed to be kept safe. Her safety was always a concern, never Wynonna’s.
She was sure if it was possible, she would be locked up in a tower like the fairytales she read, if it meant she was safe.
She was beginning to hate that word.
“Can we talk about this another time? Please?” Wynonna’s voice was sharp despite the question, a thinly veiled command that Waverly heard loud and clear. Waverly sighed and nodded, knowing that meant the conversation was over before it began. Wynonna gave her a smile and her hand a pat before finishing her meal, talking with Doc, who had been silent the entire time. By the time they were both done, Waverly had only made her way through half the plate.
“We’re going out to drink, don’t wait up baby girl.” Waverly simply nodded, mood still low, it always was after every argument involving Waverly joining her sister in the woods. Wynonna kissed her forehead, grabbing one of the lanterns, closing the door behind her with a slam that screamed Wynonna’s true mood.
Waverly rose from the table, not bothering to put the dishes away as she trudged up the stairs to her bedroom, dropping onto her bed with a groan. She didn’t know why she bothered with the same argument that ended in nearly the same way, Waverly’s words never being fully heard, and ending with the same variation of the same line.
It’s for your own safety.
It’s too dangerous.
She was growing sick of it.
She got out of her bed and changed into her nightgown, relaxing into the silk fabric. She eyed her leather bag and pulled out the notebook she had been writing in earlier, bringing it over to her desk. She flipped to the notes of the flower, looking at the sentence that was cut off abruptly and eagerly attempted to finish her notes from memory.
She looked out her window, looking at the natural darkness that enveloped the surrounding area, suddenly emphasizing how she all alone in the empty home. Quickly turning the page, she wrote down her experience, the sudden quiet that sent goosebumps up and down her arms despite the heat. She made a note on the quiet Wynonna had mentioned, her mind already connecting possible dots and formulating its own theories. Perhaps a wild animal, maybe even one not native to the land, or possibly something otherworldly.
That thought made her pause, and she eyed the dark outside again. Otherworldly? She scoffed at the idea, but the unease it brought didn’t go away, and she quickly closed her curtains and blew out her candle, diving straight to bed.
When she woke up the next morning, she walked downstairs to see Wynonna at the kitchen table earlier than usual, her tools and bow and arrows all over its surface. Wynonna looked up from sharpening her blade and smiled.
“Did I wake you?” Wynonna asked as she placed the knife in its spot inside her boot.
“No, want breakfast?” At Wynonna’s nod, she began gathering her ingredients, hearing Wynonna’s ruckus behind her. “Where’s Doc?”
“He’s coming.” Was Wynonna’s answer, and Waverly wondered not for the first time why Wynonna hadn’t invited the man to live with them, as he practically did, and her sister’s relationship with him was not a secret to Waverly. “We’re running low on coins, I need to bring back more than last night, that’s for fucking sure.” She grumbled, grabbing the cup of most likely alcohol, and taking a swig of it.
Waverly turned to look at her, at her slumped shoulders, rubbing her eyes, bags noticeable even from the distance. She wondered when she had come back from the tavern, it must have been far past when she had finally fallen asleep. She could only hope Doc was fairing the morning after better.
“Be safe.” Waverly decided to go with simple, not wanting to aggravate or upset Wynonna in her tired state. Wynonna leaned back in her chair, giving her a playful grin.
“Of course, baby girl, always am.”
“Yeah, right,” Waverly rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless, hearing Wynonna chuckle as she turned back to the food. Soon, Waverly began singing to herself as she made breakfast, the only hint of Wynonna’s presence behind her of her leather jacket creaking with her movements and metal knives bumping against the wooden table, no doubt lightly chipping the wood.
Together, it sounded like harmony to Waverly’s ears. Sounds so distinctly Wynonna and Waverly, a melody that only existed in the mornings, in the confines of the kitchen of the homestead. A melody that grounded her, the beats of Wynonna’s weapons against the table that carried her throughout the rest of the day, continuously drumming in her chest with her own heart.
An ode that Wynonna was still here, that she wasn’t alone, even if their views differed on certain things. When she finally turned around, she saw a rare, soft smile on Wynonna’s face, wiping the same spot on her blade at a considerably slow pace.
“C’mon,” Waverly said softly, her voice continuing the same tone of melody. “Get your toys off the table.”
“Hey, these ‘toys’ are our means of survival, show some respect.” Wynonna lightly teased, but nonetheless did as told. By the time the table was cleared, and two healthy portions of food eaten, Wynonna left with a kiss to Waverly’s head and a reminder to be safe, as if Wynonna wasn’t the one walking headfirst into dangerous territory.
Waverly watched as Doc stood outside waiting, greeting Wynonna with a kiss before they both departed into the woods, feeling her nerves and fear from them settling in as it did every time. With a sigh she looked towards the other side of town and bit her lip, thinking back on the previous day. She slowly made her way to her bedroom, staring at the notebook still on her desk as she walked up to it. Running a hand along the worn leather, she glanced out her bedroom window and with a resolute nod, she gathered her things and rushed back out of the homestead.
Waverly poked her head out over the wooden railing, Dolls threat of telling Wynonna ringing in her ears. She carefully watched every patrol, having had noticed the serious man far back. Seeing as there was a considerable gap between the only two knights patrolling that area, she darted across the large empty field. She ducked behind the first large tree, chest heaving up and down more than it should, the excitement and nerves of sneaking around constricting her lungs more than she thought it would.
Was this how Wynonna always felt growing up, causing mayhem around the village? Waverly let out a shaky chuckle and shook her head, pushing off the tree and retracing her steps as best she could. She dug through her bag and pulled out one of Wynonna’s knives, reminding herself to put it back before her sister noticed it missing.
Carefully, and with difficulty, she dug the blade into the trees, carving out indents as best she could. After marking multiple trees, she found the trail that had split and moved her way to the downward path, stopping after the ground evened out slightly.
She looked around, finding the flowers she had the day before and stepped in front of it. She reached out to stroke the petals, closing her eyes, and listened to the forest surrounding her.
She heard the birds, the leaves rustling and skittering of the small woodland creatures. She heard life at its most content, and unlike the usual smile, she frowned with a huff and opened her eyes.
She quickly sat down and pulled out her leather journal, taking notes of her experience. She mused if someone had cared enough to look through it, they would see similar entries of her day to day life experiences, as well as notes of the objects and creatures surrounding her that fascinated her.
Her whole life, in journals. A life of someone trapped in one village, desperate to find the beauty in what was around her, unable to go far to look for it herself.
After some time of marking trees and walking, her arms began getting sore and she wiped sweat off her brow. She thought about turning back, of getting back to the homestead to sit and wait, or continue picking berries, but she threw the thought away.
She was tired of staying behind while Wynonna risked her life every day for her. She was tired of picking berries and everyone trying to tuck her away softly, as if she were some fragile thing.
She continued down the path, carving into tree after tree until her arms burned and ached. A glimmer caught her eye and she paused as she squinted towards a cluster of trees. There was enough of a break between the trunks to see water, sunlight reflecting off its surface, almost blinding Waverly and hiding the water itself. With wide eyes and a giddy smile, Waverly ran forward until she reached the trees, leaning against one as she took in the breathtaking sight.
“Ha! Just wait until Wynonna hears about this,” She plunged her knife into the tree. “I’m a great navigator, or I can be. She’ll have to let me join her.” Waverly carved deeply with each word, her anger and frustration marring the tree more than any she had done to before. She stepped back with a huff, her arm swinging limply at her side.
With a sigh she dragged her way to what she realized was a large lake, larger than the one behind the homestead, dropping to her knees and dipping a hand in the water. Its coolness was a sharp, almost painful contrast to her warm and sweaty skin. She set the knife down next to her and cupped the water, splashing it against her face.
She felt her body jerk at the ice-cold water and let out a content sigh at the refreshing air hitting her skin. She closed her eyes, tilting her head to the sky, feeling droplets trail down her neck, relief traveling down her body with it. She heard a branch snap behind her, and her eyes widened as she stilled, stinging eyes blinking as the water dripped into them.
The woods seemed far too quiet again and her stomach dropped. She stood, gripping the knife with her as she surveyed the surrounding trees. Again, nothing.
She was beginning to think it was all in her head, that she was working so hard to prove herself that she worked herself into some sort of frenzy.
Maybe everyone was right, maybe she truly wasn’t ready to go out into the woods, and never would be.
Another snapping noise caused her to whip around, knife now held out in front of her, ready to attack.
“I-I know you’re there!” Waverly shouted into the still air. “You better come out right now!” Waverly winced slightly as she tried her best to sound threatening, though the shakiness of her voice gave her away. There was no response, no one appeared out of the trees, yet the sound of another branch breaking was unmistakable.
She found herself jumping and spinning in different directions, trying to face the noise each time. Each time her body shook more, her breathing became more ragged and sweat built up, coating her body again.
“Enough!” Waverly snapped, her voice nearly a shriek now. “Show yourself!” Another snap, and she turned, expecting to see nothing now. Instead, she saw two small, glowing orbs. She tilted her head as she squinted her eyes at it, taking a tentative step forward.
Her body jerked backwards, nearly tripping over her own feet as the realization that those orbs were eyes, vibrant, golden eyes watching her intently. A small whimper escaped her lips, images of being mauled by what seemed to be a large bear flashing through her mind. At least, that what it seemed to be, as Waverly noted the eyes were in an unusually dark patch of forest, unable to clearly see anything but a dark mass of something.
The eyes grew bigger, and Waverly realized that the wild animal was coming closer. She stumbled backwards, raising the knife in front of her in defense. The beast reached through the trees and Waverly watched in horror as a hand came out of the shadows of the trees, into the sunlight. Its large, thick, furry fingers wrapped around a tree truck, gripping it with an intensity that seemed to cause its claws to dig in the bark.
It was clear it was no bear.
It was… something.
It pulled itself forward, and Waverly’s voice caught in her throat as its enormous body twisted sideways to squeeze through the space between the trees. Once it fully stepped through the barrier of trees, it easily covered half of the trunks of two thick trees, each spaced far apart enough for a human to walk through easily. It stood on two legs, hunched over slightly, broad shoulders rising up and down with each heavy breath. Its arms, thick with visible muscles hung at its side, fingers twitching and its claws for nails clicking every so often.
Its snarl brought Waverly’s eyes to its own, noting its long, knotted red fur shining against the sun. Its snout was long and its ears, long and pointy like a wolf, twitched backward. It snared its teeth at her, showing off its sharp canines. It licked its lips and lunged forward, and Waverly finally let out a scream as she dropped the knife and ran.
She ran into the trees, not caring what direction. Her legs and lungs burned, and she looked behind her for a split second, only to see the… thing chasing her on all fours, its claws digging into the dirt and surrounding trees.
She whipped her head back around and pumped her legs harder, ducking between trees to lose it, fear, and adrenaline coursing through her body. She gasped with each breath, the fear too strong to even notice the tears running down her face, blurring her vision.
She ducked around another tree and felt her foot hit something sturdy, propelling herself forward. She skidded into the ground, rolling down a harsh slope that was nearly a drop off cliff. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her body spinning, slamming against large rocks and scrapping skin. She felt her body soar in the air slightly before rolling on the ground and eventually coming to a stop.
She groaned as she laid on her back, body aching and eyelids heavy. She felt something wet drip against her cheek and she opened her eyes to see a snout in front of her face. Too tired too move, she trailed her eyes upward, to the golden irises staring hungrily down at her.
As she closed her eyes, exhaustion taking over and knowing full well she was about to be eaten by some mystery creature. All she could think was how those golden eyes were so vibrant and being so close, she was able to see specks of a warm, honey brown, a beautiful contrast between the unnatural hue of its eyes.
As unconsciousness took over, she felt its wet nose rub against her neck, coating its drool on her, and she thought she was about to get eaten by a creature with the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.