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Branch, trunk, branch, bush, root, branch, bush, brush, thorns, branch yet again. Pidge ran, the branches scratching her bare limbs, threatening to curl around her already rumpled shirt and choke her from behind. She couldn’t stop.
The jeering had faded long ago, but the laughter echoed. The other kids of the village had thought it would be funny to change the rules while she had originally hid behind some hay bales at the edge of her family’s property. They had thought it would be hilarious to throw rocks at her hiding spot until she spooked, only to chase her, taunt her and threaten harm if they caught her. Promising harm, even.
So she ran out of the village, right into the forest that surrounded them, with the other kids on her heels with riding crops and rocks. Her legs, unused to sprinting for her life, were already sore from the stones thrown at the back of her thighs and calves, and she had almost fell over several times from well-aimed throws to her head, shoulder, one even catching the back of her knee.
The taste of metal was already filling her mouth, but she couldn’t stop. She had no idea where the other kids could be, only knew by instinct that they could be anywhere behind her, and she just had to outrun them. How could she have known they had stopped following her almost an hour ago?
Branch, bush, thorns, trunk, bra-root!
Pidge tried to jump over the visible root too late, and crumpled like a puppet torn from her strings, her limbs akimbo painfully.
Her breath caught, a sob finally ripping from her that had been trapped for who-knows-how-long since she had been running for her life. Her ankle felt weird, her arms and legs were scratched to hell, and she felt fat tears fall down her cheeks.
She tried to get up, but the moment she shuffled the weird-feeling ankle, she cried out. It hurt. It hurt and looked twisted, and she only realized then that it was past dusk. She had been running for hours.
She had no idea where she was. The maps in the village only showed a fraction of the forest that surrounded them, with just a couple roads that led out, but they were nowhere near where Pidge had run.
Pidge pulled her hurt leg closer to her as another sob ripped from her, her chest heaving from the hours of sprinting, fearing for her life, her vision blurry which simply made everything even harder to see in the darkening forest.
A bird’s call sounded above her, flying away from her.
“Why…” She heaved the word out, breathless yet loud. Her body ached. She wanted her mother. She wanted her father.
She wanted her big brother, but he had left just weeks ago, having been enlisted. It was supposed to be their dad, but he offered himself instead. The warfront needed strong young men.
Tears slid down her face, tracking down the grime she had raced through. She scrubbed her face roughly with the back of her hands, crying out when she jostled her twisted ankle.
Pidge knew she had to get up. She knew she should find the village if she could retrace her steps. But it was getting dark, and she had trouble seeing in the dark to the point she felt blind unless there were lights nearby.
Soft crunches in the distance startled her, but she only saw a black mass passing between other black columns. It paid her no mind, maybe even keeping its distance from the loud creature in the middle of the forest. Maybe Pidge should be glad whatever it was was keeping its distance.
The mass brought her back to herself, and she took a heavy, deep breath, shakily letting it go. She couldn’t panic much longer. Night was fast approaching, so she would have to either find shelter for the night, or pray she was close to the village to see the fires between the trees.
Either way, she could not just stay on the ground, curled up as she was.
Recalling the lessons on survival she and the other kids were taught, Pidge took another breath and tenderly touched her ankle, whimpering at the pain when her fingers ghosted over the suddenly warm skin. She hissed as she traced her fingers up and down, confirming she had really twisted it from the fall over the root. Walking would not be happening for very long, until she found something to keep her balance while she kept her weight off the injured ankle.
Painfully, Pidge pulled herself up with the help of the nearby tree, the one that was connected to the root she fell over. She had to put all her weight on her uninjured foot, leaning heavily against the trunk of the tree just to keep upright. It was then that she realized how thirsty she was.
She looked around, the sounds of crickets filling the air around her. She hoped she could find shelter or water nearby. With a sniffle, Pidge pushed against the tree and tried to get to the next tree, only to crumple with a scream as she instinctively put a little bit of weight on her twisted ankle.
Her vision went white as she fell, unable to see anything at all. It took everything in her to not break down and wail. She didn’t want to guide nocturnal predators to her direction, even if the scream may have already alerted nearby creatures.
She had to find a way to move that would cause the least amount of pain, even if she had to crawl like some animal.