The thick forest was broken by a wide field covered in a thick white layer of snow. The Hunter scanned it carefully, her dark eyes searching for any sign of life. A black hawk was circling along the North-West edge of the clearing. Something must’ve caught its attention.

Her heavy feet left deep footprints in the snow as she slowly padded across the clearing. As she drew closer, she spotted what the bird had: messy tracks in the snow. Footprints. She lowered her face to the uncovered ground and sniffed hard. The scent was unmistakably her Prey’s. Good. She was on the right track.

The footprints led back into the forest, and so that way she went. Among the trees, there were only small snatches of sky. Instead of snow the ground was coated with a soft orange carpet of fur needles. It was dark beneath the trees, and a silvery mist hung through the air, but her eyes were Hunter eyes, so the dim light posed no issue for her. Besides, her sense of hearing was far superior to her sense of sight; her sense of smell was almost as strong.

The Prey was not as well suited to the forest as the Hunter. Tracking it down would be easy. The Prey left such an obvious trail of broken branches that she had no fear that it would escape her. The only thing she feared was that another wild animal would get to it first.

The forest stood atop a great mountain, and now the ground was beginning to curve steeply down. Though the path ahead was dominated by sharp boulders and treacherous patches of ice, the Hunter did not waver for a second. If the Prey had managed it, it would be no trouble for her.

At the base of a cold hard cliff face was a cave. Perfect cover to sleep through the bitter cold night. Whilst the sun slowly sank below the horizon, the Hunter patrolled the area in search of food. She could find no meat, living or dead, which was a shame, but she found several large white mushrooms which would fill her up nicely. This lust for meat was good. It would stoke her desire to kill.

That night she looked up at the stars. Once she would have been mesmerised by the constellations that poked their way through the tree branches, awestruck by their beauty and magic. Now all she saw was stars and darkness. The floor of the cave was hard and cold but no bother. She wrapped her fur tight around her and slept warmly through the night.

The Hunter left the cave the next morning whilst the fires of dawn were still dancing through the trees. Her Prey’s trail led her to a waterfall and a deep pool. She decided to pause a moment and bathe; the icy water would sharpen her senses. She waded through the frigid water until only her eyes poked above the water. Predator’s eyes.

She emerged from the pool cold and wet. Some might feel defenceless and vulnerable in her situation. The Hunter felt no fear. There was not a creature in the woods who would dare cross her; there was not a beast in the world she couldn’t kill.

The sun was high in the sky, burning small and distant, when she saw it. Her Prey. It was walking down a deer path, not a fear in the world. It hadn’t spotted her. It would soon.

Fangs biting, claws slashing, she fell on him. With one slash of her knife she sliced him open. Bones crunched with a single press. The Prey screamed but she paid him no heed. She attacked with animalistic fury, until at last he was dead.

The Hunter looked down at the remains of her Prey. It was dead. Her vengeance was complete. Wiping blood from her face set off back into the forest.

“I told you I needed your report. It was due Friday and it has been a whole weekend and a half since that deadline.” exclaimed the manager of the news company I worked under, Axel. Axel was a hulking man around average height, which didn't matter considering everyone felt under him when he spoke to you. He has that sort of gaze where you can’t really tell what emotion it displays, but is intimidating nevertheless.

“If you just wait, I’ll have something. I always have something.” I retorted, confident in my reporting abilities as a senior member of staff. I am a score and a tad older than Axel, and as the only reporter able to greet Axel’s grimacing stare with a similarly wild demeanour, this made me looked up to amongst my colleagues. “There’s been some sort of robbery locally of goods worth over two million US dollars, I’m just waiting for the court case to unfold to finish my article.” 

Axel met my words with eyes of heated coals. “Now I know you’re confident about this, but how about you think about what you write on before you start.” he said before hurling himself across the room at a junior reporter, ready to harass them by uttering corporate rhetoric. At moments like these I can’t help but let my mind wander. Alternate universes, controversial topics, religious opinions. These topics are what truly interests me. If an exit to this monotonous and cyclic work that I find myself in would appear, I would jump into it without hesitation. My mind wanders further and my eyes close. A crack in the window glass is visible in my peripheral. I chuck an eraser at the pane and it shatters. No person in the building stirs or even looks at the absence of glass that was once there. I leap up from my desk and throw myself out the building through the gaping hole in the skyscraper. I work on the forty-second floor. Forty two stories to fall. I needed to leave, to be honest. It tires me. The fall is almost as boring as writing that report. I managed to recall that they stole some old fashioned painting works. Monet or something. I’m at the 10th floor now. Not long to go.

“Roy… Roy!” Axel bellowed. I awoke to the sound of people I knew chatting and discussing various bits and bobs. “You can’t just fall asleep at work!”

“Sorry Axel.” I reply, ignoring his anger-filled words. I dart my eyes around the office in search of my escape. To my delight, there’s a small crack in the window that I see in my peripheral.

Ailee tiptoed across the room from the doors to his enormous bed. His room was a complete contrast to hers. It was dark, scented with coal. The only things that hinted he was still a child were the familiar trace of his scent and the scattered drawings of scenes and flowers. The only light came from stand-alone candles placed around the room, their flames dancing in the gentle breeze wafting through a window left slightly ajar opposite the bed where Athanasios slept.

Climbing onto the bed was always a bit of a challenge—her height and the bed’s height seemed to conspire against her, especially with her nightgown trailing around her like a silken cloud. She wore it anyway, despite her mother’s warnings that she might trip while running. She loved the way it felt, even if it made everything harder.

Kneeling beside the boy’s sleeping form, Ailee paused to admire his features. Her eyes traced the way his expression softened in sleep—eyes relaxed, lips curved into a gentle smile. He looked utterly carefree, lost in dreams that shielded him from the unpredictable troubles lurking outside the castle walls.

Ailee leaned over and whispered, “Athan… Athan… wake up…”

The boy stirred, his eyebrows knitting in annoyance, and the gentle smile fading into a scowl. Yet none of that reached his voice, which was soft and knowing as he replied, “What is it, princess…?”

“I can’t sleep…” she pouted, her lower lip jutting out just so. His eyes remained closed, unwilling to surrender the last remnants of drowsiness the princess had disturbed.

Without a word, Athanasios lifted the blanket—his silent but familiar invitation. Ailee giggled, slipping beneath the warm covers and snuggling up to him.

His arms wrapped around her in a cosy, relaxed hug, and together, they drifted off to sleep.

What Ailee felt that night, she hoped she would feel for the rest of her life: safe, warm, protected, and loved—feelings that stood in total juxtaposition to the world outside the castle’s gates.

And Ailee knew one thing for certain: she didn’t want this feeling to stop. Not now. Not ever.