Word Count: 18,182
Summary of Events:
Samuil pranked Emil by making Emil think he was late for the hunt when he was really early, so they went and visited the horses and then scoped out the landscape with the guards Samuil had befriended the evening before while they waited. On the hunt, Emil found a beautiful and large swan, which he pursued diligently but had his only shot at miss, prompting the swan to attack him — highly unusual behaviour — which made his mare run off on him. On foot, Emil found another swan he initially thought was the one who'd attacked him, but discovered wasn't; shortly afterwards he reached a small lake where he found a young woman soaked from head to toe whom he gave his jacket to so that she could warm up . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
"Who are you?" Emil asked.
"My name is Arina," she replied, a slight edge to her voice.
"What are you doing here?" Emil asked.
"I live nearby," she replied.
"And why are you so wet?" Emil asked.
"The boat I was in capsised," she replied.
Emil looked out at the lake. It looked like it ought to be deep enough to require a boat toward the middle. He looked at her.
"You need to go," she said.
"But you've hardly warmed up at all," Emil said. "You're still shivering."
"Your friends are looking for you," she said, her gaze going past him. "They're very worried."
"Then come with me," Emil said.
She looked at him with what seemed a mixture of fear and rage. "No."
"You need dry clothes," Emil said.
"I have some at home," she replied, her voice tight.
"Keep my jacket for warmth until you get there," Emil said.
"No," she said, pulling up the sleeves so as to unfasten the buttons.
"Please, I insist," Emil said, reaching out to stay her hands.
"No," she repeated, moving too quickly for him to catch and sliding off the jacket, which she held out to him.
"You're nothing short of willful aren't you?" Emil asked.
She said nothing, but her gaze was cold and fixed.
Emil sighed reluctantly and took his jacket back. "You look like you're half-frozen."
"I'll be fine," she replied tautly.
"Where do you live?" Emil asked. "Can I at least escort you there?"
"I'll be fine," she repeated.
"You're in bare feet," Emil said. "Please, can't I help you?"
"I don't need help," she replied. "If you wish to have that swan for dinner you need to go back to your friends. They have your horse and are looking for you. They fear you dead."
"But I can't leave until I know you're safe," Emil protested.
"I am safe," she replied.
"You can't tell me that when you're soaked to the skin on an autumn's night with bare feet and expect me to believe it," Emil scolded.
She met his eyes with hers. "I. Am. Safe."
Emil suddenly felt a sense of detachment, as if his senses had been robbed of him.
"Yes, you're safe," he said, although he felt like someone else was speaking the words.
Despite his consciousness screaming to him that he needed to put his foot down and escort her to her abode, he turned around and went back for his things. He put his dampened jacket back on, then strapped everything back over it, and walked into the woods, not once looking over his shoulder at the maiden.
He felt like the woods whizzed past him despite his feet feeling leaden before suddenly he saw Samuil; Yarina's reins tied to his saddle, a torch in hand, concern like he'd never before seen etched onto his best friend's face.
Upon seeing Samuil Emil felt like his senses returned to him. He looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but woods when he felt like his leaden steps shouldn't have carried him beyond the sight of the clearing's edge.
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