The forest had always seemed dark, mysterious, and dangerous. Without knowing anything, I had always obeyed the three rules my grandmother gave me.

The first was to never, EVER enter the shadows of the forest alone.

As I ran into the shadows, I gasped in both fear and shame. Nevertheless, I ran as fast as I could into the forest and away from the small cottage I lived my whole life in. The night was cold, but I sweated from the thick and heavy winter clothes. Although snow had not quite fallen yet, the temperature had. I stopped myself from lamenting as I desperately maneuvered through the unfamiliar trees, looking for marks on their bark.

The second rule… Always follow the carved arrows home.

When I finally found one of the marks, I wiped the foliage away and glanced at it. It was pointing almost directly behind me so I… kept running in the opposite direction of the mark and away from home.

I felt my tears cooling and stinging my eyes. I wiped them away and ran with ragged breaths. The forest floor was familiarly unfamiliar and I navigated my way through them with both ease and urgency.

When I heard a crackle behind me, I quickly took an arrow from my quiver, nocked it, and aimed behind me. I tried to ignore the bright sea of flames and scurrying shadows as I accurately pointed at the closest target and shot the arrow. The slick sound of flesh being shot by my arrows felt extra loud and I let a sob leave me. Still, I resolutely turned back around and kept running.

I went deeper and deeper, trying in vain to focus on running instead of what had happened to my home, or my grandmother. I kept running in the opposite direction of the marks, but it was taking longer and longer before the next one.

The last rule… In emergencies, always listen to grandmother…

That rule… it'd be impossible to obey it ever again.

I felt colder than ever but didn't let any more tears fall.