Psalm 39:7 And so, Lord, what do I wait for? My hope is in you.

"Do you think there's a God out there watching all of this befall upon us right now?"

"Maybe."

"He isn't a good God then"

"Maybe."

My then 12 year old sister's words stuck to my mindspace like a bogfly trapped in a Gythurk toad's sticky tongue grasp. What constitutes good? Money? Fame? Power? Morality? Maybe it's one of those things. Maybe it's none of them. Whatever the case, there was none of it in this world in my eyes.

Our village was burned down 4 years ago, or was it 5? I shook the thoughts of the past away, carrying on with the mundane morning chores. Other than the occasional wild deer who would be attracted to the natural light of the house, it was a quiet place, a nice place to call home.

There was a certain stillness in the air around the forest that morning. The air clung close to the skin exposed to the chilly atmosphere, sunlight filtering unpredictably through the canopy of foliage above, speckling my back with sunspots. Freezing water dripped from the towels even after I had wrung as hard as possible, it always happened. The line sagged uneasily as I loaded it with the wet clothes, hopefully it would be done drying before the night came. I tilted my head towards the skies, maybe God was staring down upon me right now, for my day of retribution would come some time.

"Hey. What the hell are you lookin at?" A familiar voice called from behind. That time was not today though. I shifted my face away from the clouds and towards the source of the sound. My sister stood in the cold, bare feet planted strongly into the ground as she judged my actions. "Nothing." "Pfft, that's what you always say".

Since our village burned to the ground, we had nothing but each other left, with barely enough food to get by each day, but that was enough. In the first place, we didn't have much. Our mother was a single mother, our father died in battle before my sister was born, but our mother took care of us and gave us all the love in her heart. However, no happiness awaited us. Mom just..

Wooden bowls clattered noisily onto the table in front of me, filled with estranged sprouts and chunks of meat. "Eat up." I ate it uneasily.

"There has been more activity on the outskirts lately. The pungent trichdeema powder I placed around us was disturbed. It's rare that deer or the ursa tamper with it, after all it is meant to keep them out." It was strange, but it was possible. I paid no attention to it, assuring her that it was alright.

Julias' Forest was quiet, situated away from the vile world outside, the willows would bend and weave when winter approached, creating an organic basket around the river we lived near. The thick leaves would start to decay and fall back to earth, while the massive pompomfs (furry creature like fruits) detached and drifted towards the west, entranced by the sun's warmth like moths to light.

Finishing the remaining morsels of food, I stepped back out of the cabin, the winter cold was starting to seep and tighten its grip on the forest. My axe propped itself against a stump almost presenting itself to me, the handle was light and sturdy, functionality was not compromised by its heft. I lifted it like I had the hundred, no, thousands of times I had before. I had learnt to control its weight in my hands proficiently, the slight tilt, the timing of the force. bang The tree fell in one swift strike. I expertly diced the lumber into more digestible pieces for the fire spirit within the cooking pit. Sheathing the axe, I chucked it onto my back, leather straps securing them close to my body.

Fending for yourself for a few years teaches you many things, how to hunt, how to cook, how to kill. My sister was not one to fight or hunt, she had a weaker and frail body than most. However, what she lacked in physique, she made up for with her knowledge on the world and her proficiency with witchcraft. For her age, she was an intelligent young woman, and she protected me with her brainpower, while I used my body as her shield.

The day slipped by under my feet, the sun fell off the sky, the moon peeked through the clouds. "Still wet." The back of my hand came into contact with the clothes from the morning. I stepped back towards the cabin. There was a certain comfort to the calmness of the night, some fear the unknown within the darkness, even avoiding it. For me, it provided a haven of safety and comfort, the warped unknown encased me, protecting me.

I noticed the burn of a flame within the cabin as I approached. I unsheathed the axe guarding my back. My sister never lit a light at this hour. Lowering my figure, I approached the cabin surreptitiously.

"What the hell was this kid doing out here alone?", were amongst some of the whispers heard from the cabin. "Who cares, just tie her up, the boss wants us back by sunrise." Judging by the footsteps, at least two intruders were within the premises. I calmly grabbed a cluster of rocks, tossing them individually into the mouth of the forest to create a ruckus. The elongated arms of wood which bent within the night seemed to greedily swallow up the rocks and pebbles, ungratefully spitting out echoes. "Go check out what happened out there. "

Steps followed towards the source of the diversion, as I headed in towards the area my sister was held captive. In an event where my sister or I were in trouble, we agreed to use our own renditions of a forest whistler's (a species of small squirrel like creatures who blend with the leaves of the forest) danger call, to signal for help. It was one of the few times I was thankful for my sister's innate ability to communicate with the creatures of Julias' Forest. Shaping my mouth in a strangely unattractive manner, I whistled an abhorrent tune. Hopefully, she got the idea.

"What the he-".

"Let go of me you ugly fuck!" I could hear my sister initiating. I sighed. Why the fuck did she have to say that, she could have gotten their attention any other way. "Fuck you say?" noticeable anger bubbled up in the voices of one of my cabin's uninvited guests. A sharp jab to the stomach of my sister sent her crumpling towards the ground, steady breaths were quickly replaced with hard wheezes and grunts. I crept up through the back window of the cabin, grip on the hatchet firm and unwavering. "What's got you smiling?" The scruffy looking man said. He donned an outfit of leather hide coat , frills of ursa fur stood on end along his neck. Beneath it a chainmail overall speckled. The metal shimmered playfully in the soft light from the brass lantern cast towards the floor. They aren't from around here, well, that doesn't matter. My breath remained unshakeable, my figure unfurled over the intruder from behind.

There was something about killing something which seemed soothing, an end to the source of pain. An end to something trying to hurt me, or my family. A means to shove a living thing back into the void it was raised from, for no hope would return from that place.

I raised my axe over my head, the muscles across my body tensed up, from my ears to the soles of my feet. "You fucked with the wrong folks." My sister flashed a smile. I grinned in return.