/---/
Autumn.
A tree branch saved your life. Your hands held your own body from breaking apart. You huffed and breathed uncomfortably.
Autumn. Could you save me?
You could feel your lungs having trouble moving as the oxygen was lacking.
Please...
There was always this thought when you were depressed. It didn't have to be me.
I beg.
Tears traveled down your cheeks.
I will do anything.
This weak body of yours decided to, finally, give in. Autumn, the girl that you dreamt of was on your mind.
The beast was not of your imagination.
Your exposed skin bled so much that you felt like falling again.
You remembered her words. "You will destroy yourself."
You were getting mawed, bitten, and broken by teeth and claws while you thought about a girl who betrayed you like a dog.
It hurts as the beast took you like its plaything. Did it enjoy violence?
Did it enjoy toying with you?
Did it enjoy tearing you apart?
Did she feel bad when she did it?
You could see the stains of your blood on a black-furred monster.
There was warmth in knowing that you died being a cripple rather than being a loser.
Something dragged you through the mud as the echoes of memories sprang into your machine cogs.
Revelations.
Sentiments.
Feelings...
...
You were spared death by Autumn herself.
Red carvings. A green dress on a pretty girl. A bloodied carpet.
Bruised body weakly trying to hold.
An almost corpse.
There was a blade stuck in your chest. You didn't know how it could've been inside but the pain felt familiar.
"Oh god." A voice.
A...
Voice.
Someone tried to murder you by putting you here in this place, a rare lingering feeling came as your body slumped onto the stranger.
Strangely that voice came closer.
"God. Why me? Why can't someone else be a ranger." A different breath from a different person reached your sullied senses.
You felt like you knew her.
"Why must it be my first day."
Then you knocked yourself out.
You don't remember what happened after.
"..."
You don't remember anything actually.
Blood on your hands that ran down from your open wounds.
Just that you were.
"Are you still alive?"
That you were...
?
She sounded so...
-like home.
Something else also felt familiar as non-threatening hands touched your exposed skin. This was...
Autumn?
Weak hands reached failingly the female ranger.
"Autumn..." You said with a bruised mouth and a dead look. "Don't let me die."
The warm feeling of your hot blood dripping down on the ground.
Right?
There was a ghost in your mind, constantly reminding you how little you knew about her. Still, she dragged you here, here in this perfect place.
Delicate hands touched your blood, her voice...
Her... voice?
"Stay still." Her... her voice. She... she was here?
You tried to grasp anything with your weak hands. The person shushed you into obedience almost motherly. Your mouth wanted to say "Autumn."
Nothing really was said. Your body calmed as she felt safe and protective.
The person's gentle voice sounded feminine and almost juvenile, calm and sweet.
Innocent but knowing...
"Please, don't... Don't move anymore." Like this person cared.
Your loose look towards the person who tried to treat your infected wounds looked almost affectionate, and remorseful.
"It will get infected if you don't listen-..."
Where now a dagger was stuck in you.
You screamed. "FUCK! IT FUCKING HURTS LIKE HELL, MAKE IT STOP."
As the hands grabbed the blade, you realized she was about to pull it out.
You grunted in pain.
Wounds were being tended to.
...
Autumn.
A u t u m n.
A
u
t
u
m
n
Memories began to surface.
The sharpened scent of the refined charcoal that you helped find filled your nostrils, a smell you'd encountered before. It was back then in a cottage, hidden beneath a strange place where she, Autumn, had lived. You met her many times almost magically. Now, she usually tended to you and your careless wounds. You recalled the cold energy in her touch, the same as that day.
"I am back?"
A soft chill on your spine ran through.
"You never really left."
You remembered the faint blush that colored her cheeks as she rubbed the magic dust into your wounds. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying the confidence she tried to project. The warmth of the cottage contrasted sharply with the chill that seemed to emanate from her, a strange mix of comfort and unease.
"But I did leave, didn't I?"
You were silently waiting for her to finish.
"You surely never left my side. My hero."
You don't remember it well but her eyes had this unease hiding whenever she rubbed the particular damaged parts of your skin.
"You know you are overstating my importance."
Normal magic dust usually never healed wounds; meaning she used grades of higher quality for a lowly person.
"I am just saying what I feel about you."
"Dangerous wolves are roaming," she had said, her voice a whisper, that managed to barely, break the stillness. "You're lucky to be alive."
The pain only now started.
"You are lucky to have met me."
Her words echoed in your mind, but there was something more in her eyes—a shadow of worry, perhaps even fear.
She glanced out the small window, where the dark forest loomed, its trees swaying ominously in the wind. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across her face, highlighting the lines of concern that etched into her features.
"You would die of boredom."
As she worked, you noticed her stealing quick glances at the door, as if expecting it to burst open at any moment. The tension in the room was palpable, thickening the air between you. Yet, despite the danger, there was a certain tenderness in her care, a connection that went beyond mere duty.
You tried to speak, to thank her, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you watched as she finished binding your wounds, her touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. When she finally stepped back, her eyes met yours, and for a brief second, you saw something there—an unspoken truth, a shared secret.
"You would die of suicide."
But before you could grasp it, she turned away, retreating into the shadows of the cottage. The moment passed, leaving you with a strange sense of loss as if something important had slipped through your fingers.
"Dangerous wolves," she repeated, almost to herself this time, as she gathered her things. "They're not the only threat out there."
With that, she disappeared into the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the lingering scent of charcoal in the air.