Chapter Text
“What might you be doing out here?”
The girl swung around, brandishing a knife at Will. He tipped his head curiously and shifted his bag on his shoulder.
She looked as if she had been wandering through the forest for days. Her face was covered in dirt, as were her clothes, and her hands were covered in scratches from either thorns or rocks if she had tripped. The way she looked at him had Will convinced she was running away from something or someone. She was frightened, and frightened animals were the most dangerous. Add to that the knife she held, and the fact she seemed to know very well how to use it, and Will would have to be careful how he proceeded.
Will sighed and set his bag down on the ground, crouching so he could sift through the herbs and things he had been gathering.
“I’m not about to hurt you,” he said, keeping his head down so she wouldn’t think he was a threat, “if you don’t want my help, just be on your way and I won’t stop you. But if you’re hungry and could use some medical attention, come over here. I have some bread, and if you come back to my home I can make soup.”
The girl hesitated, but when Will pulled the loaf from the bag and unwrapped the cloth from around it, she put her knife into her belt and shuffled closer. Will could tell she was still apprehensive, but apparently she was hungry enough she was being forced to prioritize.
The girl didn’t come all the way up to Will, keeping her distance in what Will thought was probably a smart move on her part if she really was running from someone, but he held out the loaf and she snatched it from his hand. She took a few steps away once she had the bread, but didn’t retreat to her original distance from him. Will considered that a small victory, so he settled on his haunches and studied her for a moment.
She ate quickly, but not like an animal. She still had some dignity, and Will could admire that. She kept her cloak clutched close around her, a shield from the world. It was likely the only thing she had to keep her warm at night. Her boots were worn from walking. Will might be able to help her with that as well.
“My offer stands,” Will told her gently, “I can treat those scrapes so they don’t fester, and I can make you some soup. That would mean you have to come back with me.”
Will let that sit in the air for a moment, but the girl didn’t reply.
“Or, you can be on your way and I can be on mine. No skin off my nose either way, though I get the feeling you’re going to have a hard time if you don’t get something more than bread into you soon.”
Finally, the girl looked up, and her eyes were wide and frightened. They were the same eyes as a deer when it caught sight of a hunter but didn’t know what that meant. She didn’t speak, but the message was clear. She would accept his help.
Will nodded and stood, swinging his bag back over his shoulder and gesturing for her to follow him. She fell in step behind him, keeping enough distance he wouldn’t be able to hurt her without giving her a fighting chance. Will decided she was clever.
“It’s alright with me if you don’t talk much,” Will said as they walked, “I don’t get much company out here, so it won’t be any different from usual if you’re quiet as the trees all the time. I do have a dog, but he got into a tussle with a badger last week so he’s out of commission at the moment. You’ll meet him when we get to the house. I say house, but it’s more of a hut or shack. Mostly I just call it home.”
Will could feel the girl warming up to him as they walked, whether from the fact that he had yet to attack her or because he sounded friendly enough, he couldn’t be sure.
“I don’t know how long you’ve had those scratches, but if we catch them soon enough I can keep them from festering and causing you more trouble. I had a dog once who got a cut on his leg infected. It got to the point where he lost the leg, but he walked fine with three after a few months of healing up. If that doesn’t attest to my ability with medicine, I guess there isn’t much that will convince you.”
Will could feel her doubt, and he almost laughed.
“I bet you’re thinking I can’t be that good if I couldn’t save the leg,” Will said with a smile, “the dog in question wasn’t the sharpest knife in the kitchen. He kept chewing off the bandages. It didn’t help that he liked to roll in unsanitary things. He was lucky the leg was the only thing he lost. I had to keep him in the house for his entire recovery after it was gone so he wouldn’t do it again.”
The girl didn’t reply to that either. Will wondered if she was worried about her own injuries, concerned by potential infection. He would offer his help to her in any way she would accept, and he would do his best. He couldn’t guarantee anything, of course, but from the glimpse he’d gotten he believed she didn’t have much to worry about.
They reached his little hut, and Will beckoned her inside. The girl followed, still silent, as Will unlatched the door and swung it open.
Winston woofed happily from his bed, tail thumping excitedly. Will smiled and dropped his bag on the table before going over to his canine companion. Winston grinned up at him and Will crouched to ruffle his fur at the scruff.
“How you doing, boy?” Will asked softly, checking the bandages on Winston’s front legs, “get into trouble while I was out?”
Winston woofed again before he tipped his head at the girl. If anyone had ever asked Will, he would have said dogs were just about as intelligent as humans, maybe smarter than most. Winston was even smarter than most dogs, and Will would confess he was his favorite so far of all his canine friends.
“She’s here so I can patch her up, too,” Will confided to the dog, “you know I have a soft spot for strays.”
Winston made a soft grumbling sound, but Will felt it was an agreement. He gave a sharp nod and stood back up. When he turned around, he saw the girl was smiling at Winston, and he smiled back.
“I guess you like dogs enough, then,” he said, “if you give me a minute to put away the things I gathered, I can get to your hands. Make yourself comfortable. Introduce yourself to Winston if you like. He’s quite a charmer. Better looking than me, at least.”
The girl’s smile widened and she moved over to let Winston smell her hand. Will was satisfied with that, so he began to sort out his herbs and roots into his little clay pots. The girl still didn’t say anything, didn’t make a sound, but Winston seemed to like her well enough and Winston was a good judge of character.
When Will was done, he set out some supplies on the table and beckoned her back over. She sat in a chair and he sat facing her.
“First things first, I’ll clean these up and see how bad they really are,” Will explained, wanting to make sure she understood what he was doing so she wouldn’t be spooked by anything, “then I’ll add something to keep them clean and promote healing. I’ll wrap them up and we’ll be good as gold.”
The girl didn’t respond. She didn’t so much as nod in acknowledgement. She just allowed Will to gently wash her hands and inspect the scratches. Most of them were merely superficial, but there were a few that went deeper, and Will paid particular interest in them.
“I’d really like to know what a girl like you’re doing out here in my neck of the woods,” Will said gently, hoping he wouldn’t need to stitch her up but seeing he probably would.
“My dad went crazy and killed a bunch of people.”
Will stopped his movements and looked up at the girl. He hadn’t really expected her to say anything, and he was surprised to hear the cold certainty in her voice. She didn’t sound frightened, though he thought she had every right to be. Her expression was calm and calculated, probably waiting to see his reaction to her words.
Will just looked at her with open curiosity. She would find no judgment here.
“People think I’m either a witch or cursed,” she continued, “I couldn’t stay in town after they killed him.”
Will nodded and continued with his work.
“That sounds like a good reason to be in the woods,” he told her, “and you seem clever. Would you mind telling me your name?”
The girl looked at him for a long moment, and Will didn’t know if she would answer this question. He wouldn’t force her to talk, but he did hope she would be comfortable enough to do so.
“Abigail.”
Will smiled. He didn’t need to know her family name. The name she shared with her father. He didn’t care. If she wanted to leave that behind, he would let her.
“I’m Will,” he told her, “and I’m sorry Abigail, but I think this is going to need stitches.”
Abigail didn’t flinch. She didn’t cry. She didn’t react at all as Will stitched her up and then wrapped her hands. She had clearly dealt with things in her life that she wasn’t prepared to discuss, and Will was fine with that.
Will explained everything he was doing, and the functions of each of the herbs he used. He could see that it fascinated her, and he was glad. She was smart, and he hoped she would remember these things so she could heal herself in the future.
Will hadn’t been lying when he said he had a soft spot for strays, and this girl seemed as lost and alone as they get. He was glad he could help her, even if it was just treating her cuts. He’d done this for a few creatures, though not many people. Mostly dogs, and some of them decided to stick around with him after they healed. Others made their way back out into the world, and he hoped they survived on their own.
With this girl, he couldn’t tell yet if she would be one to stick around, or if she would decide she’d be better off on her own, but he would treat her just the same. He would do what he could, and she was free to make her own decisions.