There was so little to pack. And yet there was much that would be left behind. The young huntress was more than comfortable with carrying her entire world between her shoulders, but her scattered camps had been well-stocked, and she simply could not take it all with her.
She felt little regret as she pulled her pack out of the hollowed tree, and peered inside one last time. Few happy memories surrounded this spot. Her camps had remained hidden from nearly everyone, save an honored friend here or there. Yet she found her hand wandering aimlessly over the side of the tree, admiring its smooth, grey bark, and the way the sunlight danced in erratic patterns over her fingers. Perhaps she would see this tree again one day.
And perhaps not.
A sense of restless frustration had taken up residence in her gut and refused to leave. It had been building slowly over many months. Longer than she cared to admit. Had it all began the moment she caved in to the dark-haired rake's advances, so long ago? The moment she first tasted regret, and shame, in all their bitterness. The answer was an unequivocal "yes", though she refused to ponder on it too deeply. A chain of events had been set into motion from that moment on, a series of gut-wrenching heartaches, disappointments, tragedies, and hurts that she had never quite recovered from. Fleeting moments of what felt like redemption had been tasted. The sweet company of the red-haired southerner. The utter bliss of finding her blue-eyed lover again, only to have him depart again so quickly, leaving her once again empty and doubting. And the nagging shadow of never having been sought out by her haunted guardian still ate at her mind, corroding it at the edges, forever whispering her unworthiness. She could not visit the farm house anymore and had no wish to see it before she left.
There was simply nothing left. Nothing but grievous memories, wistful longings that could not be filled, and a sadness so overwhelming that she dared not face it at all. Not even the passing banter and smiles from those she would desire to be friends with could illuminate the absinthian emptiness that grew so relentlessly within her heart. It was easy to smile and laugh and flirt. Easy to flash teeth and toss hair and trade witty words.
It did nothing but accentuate the truth that lay hidden.
She shouldered the pack and adjusted it against her spine. The day felt like a mockery. The sun was clear and its light was pale gold and perfect. The forest fairly glowed beneath its rays. The boughs overhead echoed with a dozen different melodies of birdsong. There was no consideration for the tempest festering inside the heart of one young woman. In the past, this had been a comfort to her. The way the world carried on without her, the sun rising and setting so faithfully. Now it felt as if she'd been left behind somehow. As if the seasons were rolling on while she desperately clawed and scrambled in a feeble attempt to keep up. She was stuck. Still stuck in the past. A prisoner of her own unforgiveness.
Her absence would not be noticed. The only person who would bother looking for her would not be surprised to find her gone. And he was the only soul in the world she would care to seek in return. She would find him again one day.
One day.
A finger touched the shining silver brooch at her throat. She tilted her blue-green eyes to the sky and noted the time, inwardly calculating how far she could walk before nightfall. A soft sigh whispered out through her nostrils. She set her eyes ahead, shifting her bow and quiver into a comfortable position, and walked off.
