The girl followed quietly behind the man's rickshaw that carried her friends' bodies, and followed him deep into the forest. The man stopped suddenly, dropped the rickshaw, and began to quickly dig two shallow graves to put the bodies in, and the girl watched in intervals between tears and the rising stomach acid that clawed at her throat. Just as twilight fell, the man had finished burying the two bodies and carried the rickshaw hurriedly back to the town, and just as he was out of the girl's sight, she ran to the shallow graves. Using only her paws, she dug up the graves, just enough to uncover their heads, and choked back more tears. She wanted to resurrect them so badly, she knew she had the capabilities, but knew that doing that would create chaos not only to them but to the villagers nearby. So instead, with shaking hands she put one on each of her friends' heads, and closed her eyes to focus, and began to take their memories. This made her feel horrible, but wanted to keep their spirit alive in a sort of way by possessing their memories, every single one, even the most horrible. All of their memories reeled through her head, staggering between Dinah's and Vincent's, and just as she felt the bodies under her palms grow colder, she stopped on their last memories;

Vincent was being grasped tightly by a mob of villagers, being pushed and shoved and prodded into the direction of the gallows."Dinah, run," Vincent shouted over the roar of the crowd, "Find Hides!" He continued to struggle even though it wasn't getting him any farther from his death. Dinah turned to run, but she hesitated to turn back to look at her dear friend, and instantly was captured by other villagers. She too struggled from freedom, but two women grabbed her kicking legs and walked her to the gallows. The girl wished she could close her eyes, run away, pretend it was a dream, but she couldn't, she wanted to free them as their hands were tied behind them. Dinah began to beg, weeping, to be let go of, saying that they weren't the enemies, and Vincent hung his head and let out his last breath of life.



The last moment they lived was in pain, struggling for breath that they would never get, and for a moment, she felt it too. All the pain, all the misery that they went through even before death, felt like it was writhing around inside her, unaccustomed to their new owner, clawing and hissing with anger. Tears flowed again with a red tint, and this time, she peeled her head toward the sky and let out a scream so torn and agonizing, that even the spirits living in the trees recoiled and echoed her cry.


The trees recoiled and screamed in terror around the wild boy, making him wonder what was so horrifying to them, and leaned against one tree. What's wrong? The boy asked the tree, waiting impatiently for an answer. Bodies have been buried and uneathered, the tree responded, its leaves shuddering. And the bodies desecrated. Another answered. Where? Show me! The boy begged. The trees gave the boy a relative location to the burial sight, and the boy bounded off in the direction it was given. There, beneath a large oak tree, was a girl on her knees, crying next to a mound of fresh dirt. The boy hid behind a bush, watching the crying girl intently, like an explorer who happened upon a rare creature. The girl looked unfamiliar and not from the village that the boy traveled to most every night, wearing what looked like a boy's pair of shorts, a coarse t-shirt, and big thick boots. Her dark hair was matted with some leaves and hung loosely around her shoulders, which to the boy's surprise, was the same texture as his own. Smelling the air around the clearing, he smelled blood and fresh earth, two scents he had been used to since he began to live in the forest and off the village's livestock. He looked on curiously, slowly stalking forward as if without his brain's consent, and almost began to understand why the trees were so frightened; the girl was neither human nor inhuman, but all the same, digging up the graves of the deceased was a crime for all walks of life. The boy began to desperately look for some sort of weapon to use against the girl as punishment, but just as he found a thick branch on the ground near by, he accidently stepped on a twig that let out a soft crack, which caught the attention of the weeping girl.

The children's eyes met; the boy's eyes held something like fear and embarrassment, and the girl's was something like recognition, "You," the girl gasped, the recognition in her eyes swiftly changing to fiery anger. "You," she growled again, with more venom dripping from her words. She charged forward, "YOU did this!" As the boy ran to a tree close by and jumped from branch to branch, the girl began to climb effortlessly. The boy climbed and climbed, but the girl matched him at every elevation change, taking a swipe at him every time. the boy eventually was able to get up another branch higher than the girl, and out of fear and frustration, he looked down-just for a moment- and the girl just barely clawed his foot as he jumped up another branch, "YOU'RE the reason my friends are dead!" she hissed as she clawed at him. There was no more branch to climb, and if either of them climbed any higher, there was a good chance of toppling to the ground that was now far beneath them. Looking around, the boy's eyes locked on another tree, and jumped towards it. The girl's feet bunched underneath her and pushed her away from the tree as she grasped at the boy's vulnerable ankle, and dragged him down to the earth. In midair the girl turned the boy over so he faced the sky, and raised her hand to swipe her claws over his face, when the boy instantly threw a punch to her jaw, throwing her into a branch that flew by. The ground came to greet them with a small pile of pine needles spread thinly over the ground; it hurt for them to fall on the blanket of needles, but at least they were still breathing. Heart racing, the boy looked right at the angry girl, who now was on her hands and knees, wiping a dribble of blood from her lip. As she looked at it, she pointed glare turned to the boy, who under her gaze, froze. He had fallen onto his back, and as he used all for limbs to back away from the girl, she leaped forward with amazing speed, and pinned him to the solid earth.

"YOU BASTARD!" the girl shouted, raking her claws deep into his cheek. "YOU MONSTER!" she threw a hard punch to his eye, sending his vision into an array of painful colors. "YOU MURDERER!" she continued to beat the boy senselessly, throwing undetermined blows to every part of his body that she could reach until there was nothing but blood and bruises, and tears were running down her face and an impressive speed. She choked, "You fucking murder," She threw herself to the ground in fatigue and began to ball. The boy, now free from his punishment, rolled over to distance himself, and just as he took off he paused to gaze at the weeping girl. The sun was nearly set completely, and in what little light there was she was as broken as he was after his senseless beating, with her own bloody wounds to take care of and bruises to boot.

And somehow, he felt pity for this girl, and sympathy.

He remembered back to when his parents had died, or more rather murdered, when he was young, and how the villagers showed him the utmost sympathy. They fed him, gave him hand-me-downs, and eventually found him a house where he could live off of the surrounding families with children his same age. He now understood the position the villagers were in when he lost his family, and now wanted to help the girl-somehow- without ending up in another near death experience. Without making a noise, he hid the nearby bushes to lick his wounds, and waited for the girl's wailing sobs to cease, which happened to be just after the sun fully set. The boy waited for his eyes to adjust, and when they finally did he watched over the sleeping girl's body, and noticed a chill had set over the forest. He looked feverishly over the forest for some sort of covering for the girl, but only found leaves, twigs, and branches. He too was chilled, but without thinking about himself he gathered up what little warmth the ground provided and draped it over the girl.