Hidden

Sword in hand, she flung open the door and stared out into the night. Her heart was beating at a rapid pace. Her senses honed on the forest beyond, hidden by the darkness. She stepped out into the darkness, pulling the door closed so that her eyes would adjust. The low fire burning in the main living space.

She couldn’t pick out anyone standing outside, her first fears falling away. Malachi wasn’t the kind of man to hide. If he had found her, he would have been standing in front of her, bold. Ready to knock the blade from her hand and force his will upon her.

Wynter shivered, forcing herself to focus on the noise she’d heard again. A scrabbling? As though someone was climbing? She took a breath and stepped out from under the slate tiled roof of the lodge, peering back at it. There was nothing climbing the roof and she swung back, staring out into the darkness again.

Her pale blue gaze swept back and forth, as she strained, trying to hear the noise again. Nothing came, and she had just about convinced herself that it was her imagination, when she heard a soft whine.

Wynter paused then, looking back at the Lodge for reassurance that she hadn’t gone far, the woman strode forward. Careful as she stepped between the wild flowers that grew between the trees. There was the sound of scrabbling again. The brush to her left shook and she planted her feet, sword in hand. Ready to face whatever came from the darkness.

It bounded forth, yapping and jumping towards her. She stared, blinking as the sword was held steady in her hand. Before irresistibly she knelt, letting the puppy bound against her body. It was yapping, its whole body wriggling with excitement as she scooped it up.

‘Woah, woah now,’ she tried to hold it still but it scrabbled, tongue extended. She tried not to laugh as it whined and yapped, trying to bury its face in her neck. Wynter stood, struggling with the small dog, tucking it under her arm as she hastened back to the Lodge. Fenrir had been adamant that she shouldn’t go out in the dark.

Despite her moments of peace, where the past fell away, she hadn’t forgotten his warnings. The puppy wriggled without stopping, tumbling out of her hands as she stepped back into the lodge. She managed to kick the door closed behind her. Setting her sword down before dropping onto her knees.

The little creature ran back to her climbing over her knees as it tried to lick her face again. She caught it more easily with both hands free and held him up. Looking him over as his tail wagged back and forth shaking his hold body. It was a small puppy, about the size of her hand. His fur was a little mossy, but otherwise in good condition, glossy and back.

She turned him over, checking his ears and paws as he tried to run or lick her fingers. Whining before scrambling up her legs once more.

‘Alright, alright,’ she couldn’t help but smile. Extending her hand to the bag hung by the door. She dipped her fingers into the canvas and pulled out a strip of dried jerky. He licked it before trying to gnaw on the strip. Biting with enthusiasm as he struggled with his needle teeth.

‘What are you doing out here?’ She murmured, shaking her head. Was there a little nearby? The puppy seemed to be healthy, and well taken care of. So was he from another house? He seemed too small to wander far on his own, but puppies, like small children, had a habit of getting into trouble.

He licked her fingers clean and she tore another small strip for him. But he chewed before losing interest and curling up, cat like on her lap. He huffed, looking up at her with large dark eyes and she couldn’t help but smile. She had always wanted a puppy.

‘Better not get too attached,’ she murmured to herself. He clearly belonged to someone, she’d have to find his owner in the morning. She stroked the shaggy dark hair back from his face. He was dark grey and black all over, with triangular ears that fell on either side of his head. He had a sweet little face and she couldn’t help herself. Her fingers stroked over his body as she bent, pressing a kiss to his brow.

He huffed at her again, energy expended as his eyes started to close. His back legs twitching as he fell into sleep. Only her fingers grazed a thin strip of leather, tied around his neck. She pulled it gently around searching for a sign of the owner and frowned. Realising that something was wound around the make-shift collar.

With the puppy asleep on her lap, she adjusted her position slowly. Sitting cross-legged she wrapped an arm around him, holding him against her body. It was easier to find the knot that kept the leather in place and she pulled it free. The strip fell easily out of the roll of dark parchment that had been wrapped around it.

She set it to one side, ready to return to the owner the next day. Her fingers trembled on the parchment and she forced herself to breathe again. The door closed fast behind her. The fire burning merrily in front. The parchment unfurled easily in her hands and she scanned it, heart skipping a beat. The parchment was black, easily lost in the pups dark fur. But written in a neat hand on the folded scroll were the words, etched in gold ink.

Shadow. So you don’t get lonely. F

The ink shimmered in the firelight as she read the message again, and then again. Making sure. Shadow. She swallowed, undoubtedly the name of the puppy that had fallen asleep on her legs. So you don’t get lonely. F.

Fenrir. She felt as though she had smoke in her eyes, they stung and her lower lip trembled. She touched her fingers to her lips before setting aside the little message. Putting it in her bag for safe keeping, in case Fenrir changed his mind. Incase Shadow wasn’t really for her.

Gifts could be given, and Malachi had taught her that they could be taken away again. Touched by the thought of Fenrir’s gesture, Wynter gathered up the puppy, her puppy and retreated through her lodge. So that she didn’t get lonely. She curled up on the bed and cried. Ashamed to let the waves of grief crash over her. How could something so simple and strange, a wonderful gift, make her cry?

Because it meant that he might care and that was as terrifying, as it was wonderful. She didn’t understand the Prince, but with his surprising gift, she couldn’t help but like him a little more. Perhaps that was the problem that her love was easily bought.

At that moment, curled up around the sleeping pup, she didn’t care. Strangely, with the dog beside her, even though he was just a pup. She felt even safer than she had before. As though someone was watching over her.

As Wynter’s breath faded to the sweet rhythm of a sleeper. The great black wolf took up his position outside her front door. Laying across it, with his nose on his paws. It was easy enough to hide in the shadows, and she hadn’t been looking for a wolf in the forest. His gift had made her smile, it had made her laugh and that eased some of the weight on his own shoulders. It had also made her cry, and he hoped that could only be a good thing.