She was winded.

She could feel and hear how ragged her breaths were, and her usually light clothing clung to her skin, making her drip with even more sweat. And she was tired, too. Running for half the day had made her joints ache.

She reached at her hip for the cold metal of the flask. The feeling of it was somehow a relief against her fingertips.

She uncapped the flask and drank greedily from it. The water was pure and sweet, but she was able to put the bottle down when she needed to. It was regular water, which was gratifying. At last, in this strange and twisted Forest, the yaga had discovered something normal.

Normal. At the thought, her heart gave a sharp pang. Ever since she was eight, her normal had been a grim reality. The only time she could remember true normalcy was when her parents had been alive.

She had a new normal now, one that she felt she had to change soon.

She looked down at the ground. The footprints were gone. Ancestors. She hated the shocking intensity of her senses when she ate the flowers, as well as the pain that came with it.

Get...going...Karina...

Once again, she pressed her fingers to her temples, and allowed the sharp pain of Lilith's voice to fade away. It was easier this time: get the flower, chew it, focus on anything but the excruciating pain that consumed her body, and immediately begin running. She wasn't going to dwell on her heightened senses and the pain that came with them. She was going to--

Run.

She leaped into action, automatically lifting her rough skirts higher so as not to tear them more than she had the first time she had followed the footprints. Her body moved in a constant, forward motion, twisting through stark trees and bounding over thick brush. She was a one-minded blur, moving faster and faster every second.

Then she heard it. She immediately stopped, just catching herself before she fell into the thorns.

A growl.

Her mind immediately flashed to Hans and the growls he emitted earlier by the fountains. He's dead to you now.

What if the creature she heard was Hans? What if he was still him?

Liar murderer thief thug monster you can't trust you can't trust run run run

Another growl, coming from behind her. She whirled around.

Karina could hear the tiny catch in her own breath, could feel the blood rushing to and from her head and heart. She was a constant thrum of energy, a cat waiting to pounce.

No...she was the mouse. The creature trapped between claws and paws--whose, though, she didn't know. At the next sound, she vowed to Lilith, she would run before risking her life even further.

She scanned the too-bright trees, searching for the source. It was to no avail; the trees were still trees that hurt her eyes, and they were all clustered too thickly together for her to be able to see anything.

It was too easy to hide in this Forest.

Maybe she should just get going. Run along with the chicken footprints and stay alert. It wouldn't be hard, so long as she ate the flowers.

She didn't want to eat another one.

Run! Runhe'sbehindyourun!

She couldn't take any more chances.

She propelled herself into motion as she heard a snarl--from in front of her, from behind her, from everywhere. She was running, and whatever it was behind her was running too, snapping twigs and breaking branches. She didn't dare look back.

Pleaseletitnotbethemurdererpleaseletitnotbehimplease...

She glanced down at her feet for a quick second, noticing the glowing flashes of chicken feet imprinted on the ground. Good; she was still on the path to Baba Yaga's.

With any luck, she wouldn't die before she got there.

Ancestors, her lungs were on fire! She was getting more and more tired every second, despite the adrenaline that coursed through her veins. The panting of the creature behind her was getting faster and faster, and soon she would be overwhelmed by it. 

She couldn't go to Nyx again, either. After what had happened the last time, she wasn't sure she would ever call on him again. He didn't respect that horrible traitor.

She was scared, and fast, and there was snarling behind her, and there were paws and claws ripping her apart, and I'm going to die. This is it. I'm going to--

She was falling onto thorns, and she was pure, liquid pain, a fire from within, consumed by a bonfire of her own pain.

Just like her mother...

She heard snaps of branches moving farther and farther away. If she had any luck, the creature was long gone, but she needed to be sure.

She fought the pain in order to sit up. If it was truly gone she could be at rest. She'd endure the pain and keep running, if she had to. It was what she always did when Olga hit her.

From a quick glance around the woods, she saw nothing but the usual trees and brush. She waited a moment before allowing herself to sink back down and cry.

The sobs consumed her just as much as the pain. Her face crumpled as tears and snot streamed down her face. She could feel everything, Ancestors! She brought her knees to her chest in a lost attempt to muffle the cries of pain that were ripped from her throat. Everything she did felt like she was precious glass, and she was shattering.

Her body was a twisted bundle of nerves. All feeling and no thoughts, all pain and nothing else. She was a bonfire, and she was going out.

The now-thin trickle of tears couldn't stop the fire, either. The sobs had mostly stopped, leaving her with a stained dress and excruciating pain all focused on one place.

It was her shoulder that was still burning, and the rest of her body was ashes, faded into oblivion. Five long gashes scarred her shoulder and back and ripped and bloodied her dress. This was like nothing she'd ever endured before--but, with a gasp, she realized she knew how to treat it.

Once, when she was six, her father had sliced his finger to the bone when out hunting. He had taken off his gloves, let clean water run over it, and then put a salve on and wrapped it in fresh bandages. Vasilisa had let Karina help her with the treatment: a series of painkilling herbs. Although she couldn't very well find those out in the Forest of the Dead, she remembered her mother saying that without herbs, the best treatments were snow or water and keeping the wound wrapped in clean bandages and away from dirt. Sometimes, if the wound was bad enough, Vasilisa would sew it up. She didn't have snow or herbs or even a needle and thread, so water would have to do.

Since the flask hung from her intact shoulder, it was easy to grab the flask and uncap it. First, she drank some water and poured some over her head in order to cool herself down. Then, she carefully removed the shreds of her dress from her shoulder, wincing every time she pulled a particularly clingy cloth from her wound. Each piece of her dress seemed to stick to her bloody shoulder like a second skin, and it hurt to pull off.

At last, she was done with the horrible task and was able to pour water over her shoulder. The blood, which had thankfully not dried yet, washed away easily enough. When her shoulder was clean she could see the jagged cuts better. Biting back a curse, Karina leaned forward--a painful motion-- and carefully began to rip the edge of her dirty skirt for bandages. It took a while, but at last she had a serviceable bandage that she could wrap around her shoulder.

After the long process, Karina stood up and glanced at the ground. The footprints were barely there. She needed to get moving.

She lifted her head, forcing herself to keep her shoulder stiff and unmoving. She could smell the sweat, the blood, and...was that gingerbread?

Hey, everyone! Hope you've all had a lovely week! What are your thoughts on this chapter? What do you think the creature that hurt her was? Please comment your thoughts below! If you enjoyed this chapter, please click that shiny star on your screen, and if you didn't, please comment why so I can improve! Thank you so much!

Psst...in the next two weeks, I'll be posting an exclusive chapter set in Vasilisa's time as a teenager featuring a very mysterious entity that we've heard of, but have yet to know anything about. ;) ;) I'll see you then!