"Snow wind whispers, a melody sweet.
The symphony for your arriving feet."
.
Belladonna's gaze drifted upward, losing track of time as snowflakes gently fell onto her face. The silence was broken only by the soft crunch of snow beneath her.
Ferguson's weight pinned her down, making it hard to shift him aside and sit up. She managed to roll him onto his side, with the strength in her slim hands.
While doing this, her thoughts swirled, replaying the unexpected kiss. Although accidental, a flutter in her chest wished it wasn't.
The cold seeped through her hair, chilling her scalp. Snowflakes clung to her gown, refrosting the fabric she'd earlier dusted clean.
Turning to face Ferguson, their noses almost touched, making her face flushed. Belladonna's fingers brushed against Ferguson's jaw, checking for signs of consciousness, but he was out cold. His raven-black hair fell across his closed eyes, snowflakes clinging to the strands.
As she lay there, her mind again wandered back to the kiss. "Why did he faint?" Belladonna muttered, kicking at the snow.
"A proper kiss, at least, before succumbing to darkness," she whispered, pouting. "Humph!" her breath misting the air.
Some snow tumbled down the cliff, breaking her day dream, as Belladonna lifted her head to see Ryker standing at the edge, his voice carrying across the forest,
"Found two! Aunt Mae's Niece and the Doctor!"
***
Later, as they trekked through the forest to meet with the others, Ferguson's limp form was slung over the broad shoulders of a sturdy hunter. Ryker trailed behind, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"What happened to the doctor?" He asked, exhaling cigarette smoke into the chilly air.
Belladonna watched him sidelong, her gaze tracing the sharp lines of his personality. Ryker's nonchalance belied a ruthless efficiency when facing monsters, now he asks such?.
She hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "We were ambushed by starvoks," she began, her words measured. "Ferguson saved me, but the stinger sent him crashing into a tree. We fell...and that's it."
Ryker's eyes narrowed, smoke curling from his lips. "And the starvok?"
"I stabbed it with my daggers," Belladonna replied, her hand instinctively brushing her weapon.
Ryker again exhaled a puff of smoke, his eyes squinting, "No need to explain why you strayed from the road. The main thing is you're safe." With these words said, he walked ahead.
Belladonna's tension eased, her shoulders sagging in relief.
Earlier, when Ryker first spotted them, she'd swiftly buried the syringe used on Ferguson, concealing it beneath the snow. The hunter's unaware gaze had locked onto the lifeless starvok, his whistle and, "Wow," Echoing through the forest.
Now, as they approached the group, Headstone's face lit up. "Belladonna! Are you okay?" He hastened to her side.
She nodded, forcing a smile, but it faltered as she took in the villagers' fearful expressions.
"Did the starvoks attack here?" Belladonna asked, concern etched on her face.
Ryker's nod was grim. "We lost half our hunters protecting these people."
Belladonna's gaze swept across the somber gathering. Despite the fear of what just recently happened, Men stood vigil around the fallen hunters, their faces etched with reverence. The weight of sacrifice hung heavy in the air.
Julius Peppers' voice rose, a gentle prayer for the departed. "May their bravery never be forgotten in our hearts...may their memory guide us to safer shores."
The cold seemed to still, as if respecting the moment. An hour of silence descended, each passing moment a testament to the lost.
*****
In the afternoon, Belladonna tended the fire, her hands moving with practiced ease as she prepared a humble dish of "Sizzling Stew." Her Aunt's Mae's perfect recipe, which had the most important ingredient (Frozen mushrooms, which was practically found around the forest.)
Around the fireplace, villagers and some hunters sat in quiet contemplation. Children's laughter punctuated the sorrow, their playfulness unchecked despite parental calls to order. Hunters stood watch, ever-vigilant, their eyes scanning the surroundings.
Headstone's voice broke the silence, "As I said earlier, traversing Foggy Mountains is suicidal. Losing most of our hunters to Starvoks, what worse could—"
A grizzled hunter interrupted, his messy brown hair and sunken eyes reflecting grief. "What's the point? I lost my best friend saving...these people, oblivious to our sacrifices!" His gaze scorched the villagers. "You don't know loss. You flee while we hunters—"
Ryker's calm voice defused the tension. "Then why become a hunter?"
The hunter's words caught in his throat. "Because...I...I..."
Ryker twirled an unlit cigarette, using it as a prop. "We're Monster hunters, Vampire hunters, our lives forever on the line. Like this cigarette, full and ready to be burned anytime. No matter the circumstances, we're doomed to die. That's a hunter's fate."
The hunter's eyes twitched, but as he met the accepting gazes of fellow hunters, he retreated. "You're all bluffing. Can't you try to live?"
Ryker's expression turned somber. "You think I haven't lost loved ones? My father, mother, sister—in three days, to a vampire. My wife and unborn child, right before my eyes...I was burned, thrown into a maggot-infested pit. But I chose to live, despite the pain."
The air thickened with silence. Hunters nodded, each bearing scars of loss.
Ryker approached the hunter, lit the cigarette, and said, "This is our life. The life we chose. The life we'll die with."
The hunter hissed in anger, sat on the snow, backing the entire crowd.
Headstone's voice soothed the tension once more. "As I was saying, we can't risk Foggy Mountains. We'll take the Misty Paths, a safer route around it. In Foggy Mountains, there are creatures. Dangerous creatures lurk there, feeding on fear, but we'll press on. Let's move! We'll settle in Ashwood by evening, and I'll announce our arrival to...the Lord."
Hearing his statement, the people's faces brightened, each spirit lifting up. Except for one. Julius Peppers.
He snorted, turning away. "The Lord of the Town? More like the bloodsucking Demon."
Meanwhile, Belladonna ladled stew into a bowl, her gaze on the distressed hunter. She approached him, bread in hand, and smiled. "Want some—"
Before she could finish, he slapped the bowl away, stew splattering on the snow. "Get away from me, blonde."
Belladonna's anger flared. "Someone could have eaten that!" She scooped up the wasted stew-snow mixture and shoved it into his face.
Ryker who stood there, swiftly lifted Belladonna over his shoulder, defusing the situation.
The hunter stood up, fists clenched. "You're lucky Ryker saved you! Girl or not, I could have—"
Belladonna's voice echoed from Ryker's shoulder, her tiny fists shaking. "And I could have kicked your head off, Loser."
The hunter slumped back onto the snow, defeated. "Tsk! Useless blonde!" he muttered under his breath.
....
Ryker gently set Belladonna down beside Ferguson, who lay motionless in the tent alongside Aunt Mae. The elderly woman's condition had worsened.
Ryker's gaze drifted from Ferguson to Belladonna, his eyes narrowing. "Just unconscious, huh?"
Belladonna nodded, her mind racing. She fidgeted with her gloves, her eyes darting toward Ryker.
He leaned in, his voice low with blue eyes staring into hers. "Interesting. You're not sharing something about his health."
Belladonna's eyes widened, her voice barely above a whisper. "Health?"
Ryker's eyes turned on Ferguson before he stepped back, his expression thoughtful. "Cold to the touch. Like ice."
Before she could reply, Headstone's timely arrival broke the tension. "Time to wrap things up! We leave in five minutes."
Hearing the announcement, Ryker flashed Belladonna a knowing smirk before departing, leaving her into a sea of thoughts.
Headstone's furrowed brow showed confusion. "What happened?."
*****
The group trudged uphill, battling the swirling gusts. Ferguson's added weight strained the wagon where Mae had been laid, the horse struggling to push through the snowstorm, let out a neigh. It as well, felt the stormy winter as an obstacle towards the work.
Belladonna clung to the wagon's side, her breath visible in the chill air. She exhaled heavily, seeking warmth.
"Everyone safe?!" Headstone yelled above the wind.
A chorus of "Yes!" echoed back.
A woman coughed, "The cold wasn't this severe in the Frozen Forest. Why—"
"The road to the misty paths are treacherous," the hunter beside her replied. "I hope we would be safe."
Moments of struggling silence passed when a reassuring sound lifted the spirits of the people.
"Hold on, we're almost through," Headstone called out. "Once we pass, we'll be out of this."
"Is this the misty path?..." a man shouted, leading to the other giving him a sarcastic glare.
"Does this look misty or stormy to you?" someone countered.
"The both!" His replied, voice lost in the wind.
Moments of silence yet again passed before Headstone yelled, "We're entering the misty paths!
Peppers, at his side, asked, "How do you know—"
Headstone pointed ahead to a cave-like entrance as the map which he held led. "The ancient path through Foggy Mountains!."
The group pressed on, almost entering the Misty Paths. The cold intensified, biting through their layers. Snow swirled, reducing visibility.
Suddenly, a voice boomed through the storm, "Turn back! Follow us!"
Heads turned, seeking the source. Lights flickered in the distance, like beacons in the tempest.
They all became worried.
A hunter investigated as directed by Ryker, battling through the drifts. He returned, guiding a breaded man whose face was nearly obscured by ice and wind.
The hunter's nod signaled good news.
The stranger's thick leather attire and deep, resonant voice commanded attention. "What drives Evergreen's people into the death paths?" he thundered, for he had known their origin from the Hunter.
Headstone's confusion deepened. "We're bound for Ashwood."
The man's grin split his wind-sculpted face. "As am I!"
"Why shun the Misty Paths?" Headstone asked.
The stranger's laughter defied the gale. "No sane soul risks a hundred lives among fear eaters! I'm Marcellus, A merchant."