Chapter Text
The forest was never quiet. The buzzing of insects, the rustling of grass, the sound of branches breaking under his boots. Jacks loved these sounds. They were bringing peace to his neverending flow of thoughts. About the time that has passed, about the time that was awaiting for him. It was all so shallow he couldn't stand these little voices in his head.
He also loved hunting, it was his life's work, he earned his living off selling meat of different beings, mostly to some rich people with perverted tastes. He wasn't the one to judge, he killed these animals. Today was an unwindy sunny day, perfect for shooting. Fall in its prettiest form, trees blooming with explosions of colours: red, bright yellow, orange. He reached for an arrow, dragging it out of the quiver on his back, as he caught a sound with his sharp hearing. A rabbit, he thought. He hid in the bushes and began to watch, his arrow drawn on his bow, aiming straight toward the sound.
The second he sees a rabbit, he stills. A deep inhale, even slower exhale. He focuses. The second later the arrow has already pierced his pray. He was called The Archer by everyone he knew not for just anything, he always finished his targets fast and smooth. He slowly, without a rush, walked up to the rabbit he just shot right in the neck. Perfect as always. He wouldn't consider himself smug, but who was he lying to? He was the best archer of the whole town.
That's when a muffed sound of strong paws hitting the ground reached his ears, and he wasn't fast enough to react, only turned his body in the direction and threw his hands in front of him. A sharp pain struck his shoulder as he fell to the ground, a wolf tore his skin apart, growling furiously. Jacks screamed, everything went black around the corners, but at the same time, adrenaline surged through him. With a groan he reached for an arrow and in a rapid movement stuck it into the wolf's eye. The animal whined, then there was another hit, in the neck, and another. He was striking until the wolf loosened its grip on his shoulder, as he finally managed to hit a vital organ or two. Slowly, the creature fell onto him, and Jacks slowly climbed from under it.
But he knew a lone wolf was a rare thing, and he also knew that he had to run. He pushed himself onto his feet, blood loss making him dizzy, as he clumsily moved through the woods, as fast as he could. His vision was blurred, he didn't know where he was heading, he only knew that he had to get out.
That's when he saw it. A lovely little cottage in the middle of the forest. Wooden, it was white and pink, covered in plants and worn out by time. Felt like it was straight out of a fairytale, and he didn't think twice before heading in its direction.
He leaned against the pinkish doorframe and knocked on a white door, many, many times. He knocked non-stop until it cracked open. On the other side was a girl, maybe his age, he genuinely couldn't make her face out fully as the blood rushed to his eyes more and more. All he could notice was bubblegum pink hair and a dress with some orange patches he couldn't quite discern. Foxes?
He heard her voice but didn't understand what she was staying, he felt her arms around him, she was warm. Slowly, stumbling, the girl guided him inside. Everything was so bright, he felt like he got a glimpse of heaven, as the angel was saving him, or taking him with her, he couldn't quite understand. He was delirious.
He felt touches, cold and warm against his skin and the wound, the pain that worsened in some moments, and soothed in the others. She was tending to him, he could tell, a sharp pinchy pain corroded his wounds, probably alcohol. He didn't even notice how he closed his eyes, and everything went dark.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
He woke up to a warm, comfortable bed he was in, the soft heat going from the fireplace with the specific crunch of wood in it, and the wallpapers with foxes, stars and flowers painted on them, hand painted, it looked. He slowly propped himself on his healthy arm and sat up, his shirt was changed to a neatly embroidered milky one, and his shoulder was tightly, not too tight though, bandaged.
He felt weak, even after sleeping.. How long has he been sleeping actually? Jacks had no idea, when he was hunting it was day, but now pitch black was clinging to the windows. He stood up from the bed, at least in his right mind now, as he remembered *who* was the person that stitched him up. A girl with pink hair. He was going to find her, possibly thank her, he rarely thanked people but she saved his life.
He opened the door and appeared to be in a hall, then - in a staircase that led right to the kitchen. And there was she.
Whistling under her breath, pink hair tied up in a bun, only spare locks disobediently dancing against her peach skin. The same dress that he could then see clearly, with foxes and green branches embroidered all over it. Someone in this house must've loved to sew.
She turned to him the second she felt his gaze and smiled brightly, the smile was like the sun, he felt like he would turn into ashes if he got closer.
«Hi!» the girl exclaimed, and he stiffened, only a little, not sure how to talk to a personification of sunshine. «I’m so glad you're awake and well, I’ve just cooked soup for you, it contains herbs that will help you to recover faster»
He could not comprehend such a kind and sincere approach to a literal stranger. Yes, he was hurt and helpless, but a soup? He could never.
«Thanks..» he muttered, then regained his composure and straightened up. «For everything, not just the soup»
«Ah, nevermind, I am a pharmacist, it's my duty to help those who need it» her smile only widened, and he wondered if it could rip her mouth.
«Still, I am grateful. Not everyone could do that for some stranger»
«Then you have very little faith in people» she chuckled, pouring the soup into a bowl. «Have a seat, I won’t let you go till you eat properly»
He could only do as she asked, there was something to her, something familiar. Did he feel the same when he first met Donatella?
The girl put a bowl on the table before him, placing her hands on her sides. «What’s your name?»
«People call me Archer» he said, not ready to reveal his name to her, as he took a spoon she also was kind enough to give.
«Archer.. Oh, because of the bow?» she sat beside him, leaning her cheek into her palm, looking at him all curiosity and innocence.
«Yeah, because of the bow. What's your name?» he gave the soup a try. It was a little bitter, probably because of the herbs, but in general pretty decent.
«Evangeline Fox» she said proudly.
«These» he pointed at one of the foxes on her dress. «Because of the surname?»
«No, I just love foxes. It is destined, isn't it?» her eyes were gleaming with joy. To think of it, she couldn't be older than 20, but she already lived alone deep in the woods. Evangeline was probably happy to have company.
«Now, it’s late, so I hope you’ll stay the night to not be attacked again in the dark forest. I’m gonna be upstairs, next door to you, if you need something just knock» she gave him a finishing beam, before heading out of the kitchen.
He decided he'd stay. Jacks felt insane in some sense, like it wasn't happening for real. He shook this feeling off and finished his soup. Tomorrow he would be home.