The spray of blood was sudden. It was warm and wet and smelled faintly metallic. Crimson droplets, some large and some miniscule, splattered across pale, freckled flesh and earth-colored clothing. The young huntress holding the large knife barely flinched, and after a moment to ensure none of it had gotten in her eyes, she continued to press the blade into the neck of the stag at her feet. Adjusting herself into a more comfortable sitting position, she watched the dark blood pool beneath the magnificent creature's throat. Her turquoise eyes wandered over the animal's corpse, and a mental calculation of how much coin each section of meat would fetch began within her head.
Without warning, a high-pitched shriek cut through the air. Narys' head jerked up and whipped around towards the sound, and the hand holding the blade flew up protectively in front of herself.
A child stood less than a stone's throw away. A little girl with the mud-colored hair and mossy eyes of a Breelander. Her hands clutched a length of thin rope, and she was staring at the huntress with wide, horrified eyes.
Narys stared back, perplexed at the child's behavior, until she remembered that she was covered in blood and kneeling next to a very large, very dead animal.
"Don't knife me!" the little girl squeaked, her hands pressing to her chest and her knees locking together in fear.
A pair of coppery eyebrows shot upwards. "Why would I do that?" Narys asked, while her lips twitched towards a smirk.
"I-I'm only looking for my dog," the child replied, which wasn't quite an answer. Her little hands quaked as she held up the rope, and Narys could now see a small loop at one end, just the size of a hound's neck. "You aren't going to knife me, are you?" Her dark eyes stood out starkly against her face, which was pale with terror.
"Well, I dunno," the huntress answered, unable to resist a tease. She turned her attention back to the deer, inserting her blade between its forelegs and drawing it smoothly down the belly. "You a brigand?"
"N-no!"
"A robber, maybe? Hmm?" Narys flicked her playful gaze back to the child, who had not quite caught onto the game yet. "A goblin, perhaps?" she whispered, leaning towards the girl. "A very small goblin?" She took pity then, and buffered her words with a crooked smile.
The child blinked rapidly behind her chestnut bangs. Her own little rosebud mouth trembled as if she wanted to smile, but was still uncertain. “No, ma’am.”
“Oi!” cried Narys as she let loose a merry laugh. “I’m no ma’am. Do I look so old to you? Aye, I suppose I must to a little one like yourself.” She rubbed the back of her wrist across her face, unwittingly smearing the blood over her cheek. “Well, then. I only hunt animals. And once upon a time, I hunted people, But only the bad ones.” She eyed the girl appraisingly, still grinning. “You don’t look bad to me. A girl who goes looking for her lost dog is actually quite good.”
Plump cheeks dimpled as the girl smiled, and the fear seemed to leave her. “Will you help me look for my dog?”
A brief pause was all that was needed before Narys gave her answer. “I can’t. I’ve got to quarter this deer and haul it off. Can’t leave it sitting in the sun for too long.” Her hands continued to work at the beast, slicing expertly, her opposite hand assisting to peel the hide away from the flesh. “But I’ll wager that, if he’s anywhere close, he’ll come to us before too long. Once he smells this.”
The child went silent, sticking her little tongue out between her lips as she pondered. Then, with great decisiveness, she plopped herself down in the grass nearby. “Then I’ll wait here for him.” She turned her attention back to the stag upon the blood-soaked ground. “You won’t get blood on me, too, will you?” Her hands set the rope leash in her lap, and then wandered over the plain fabric of her clearly homemade dress.
Narys chuckled under her breath as she plunged the knife into the shining, pink flesh between the deer’s legs. “Nay, you needn’t worry about that now. His heart’s not beating anymore. Once the blood stills, you have to drain it quickly, and get the organs out, or…” She stopped abruptly, biting off her words.
“Or what?” the child was undeterred, watching the spectacle with ever-growing fascination.
“Never you mind,” Narys said with a wry grin.
Apparently satisfied that she was not going to be ‘knifed’ and that her dog would be found, one way or another, the little girl shared a wide grin, complete with a missing tooth or two. “I like you,” she declared. “I’m Clara.”
“Y’oughtn’t be giving your name to strangers, Clara,” Narys chided. But another glance at the dimpled cheeks and home-woven leather shoes, and she could only chuckle again. “I’m Narys.”
