The figure, a man of a large frame, eyed the small cottage from above as the lights inside went out. His gaze upon it lingered before, in a swift motion, he turned back, leaping from branch to shoot. His nimble movements leading him to an opening in the woodlands where others like him resided temporarily.
An encampment.
He jumped down from the giant tree, his claws digging into and chipping away the bark as he descended toward the earth.
The site was rather lively as the bonfire roared with life and light for the up-and-coming day of their hunt. In the distance, the man could hear the sounds of drunken laughter, which were accompanied by the cheerful giggles of women and the familiar clinks of tankards.
The man had no desire to join in and ignored the festivities, stalking over to his tent to prepare for the forthcoming day.
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Cairo rose with the sun. In her night gown and unruly-haired state, she stepped out to the front of the cottage with a small watering can in hand—which she acquired from their small shed of cultivation tools off to the side of the cottage—and sauntered to her mother's flower garden. The garden welcomed her with a light sway of the morning's breeze.
The early morning sky cast a blue tint down below, making the flowers seem as if they were glowing. Cairo smiled tenderly at this. She kneeled into the dirt, setting the watering can off to her side as she gently cupped the head of a pink tulip, rubbing the soft petals with the pad of her thumb. "Good morning, mama," she whispered, shifting her weight on her legs.
She grabbed the watering can at her side, pouring the clear liquid over the lovely things, the soil below absorbing the hydration for later use. "The old man and I are preparing for the Farmers Fair today," Cairo summarizes to the flowers of the prior day's activities.
"He's been hellbent on it for days, driving me insane about harvesting the crops, milking the cows, collecting eggs...churning the butter." She paused quietly, an air of bittersweetness cloaking her. "You always did churn butter better anyway." She uttered, her voice hardly a whisper.
She thought back to the days when her mother would sit in their kitchen for hours on end beating the milk solid. Sweat forming on her forehead and over her brow. Her hands were raw and rough, but she would always smile brightly when she was done, the hard work worth it. The butter was always delicious.
A few more minutes were spent watering the flowers when Cairo, frowning, made the dreadful discovery of weeds in the soil. In her moment of gloom, she failed to notice this as the flowers didn't appear to be wilting.
Those weren't there before, she thought as her frown deepened.
The heinous things coiled around the base of their stems, the poor darling plants. Thus, hinting at the weeds' rapid, insidious growth. Cairo attempted to pull them out, but it felt as though they were tugging back from deep within the earth.
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"Put that here crate right there," Beau instructed Cairo, gesturing with the wooden crate that he had in his hands to her as she was rearranging the other crates of goods in their wagon, ensuring that they wouldn't shift during the ride into town. Mr. Sap, their oldest horse, turned from the movements of the wagon as it was secured to his backside. His ears were flicking with agitation.
Turning her attention back to her father, she took the crate from his hands, setting it down with a loud wooden 'thunk'.
"That all of it?" Cairo inquired, looking down at her father.
The old man wore a straw hat his late wife, Viola, had made for him. The wide-brimmed hat shrouded his face from the morning rays. A pair of slacks covered his legs, and good ones, too, for the occasion. No holes or loose threads in sight, which could be said otherwise for the rest of his clothing. His shirt, however, had a few spots on it from loading the wagon, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows so they wouldn't hinder him.
"That's all of it," Beau nodded assuredly at her before taking a glance back at the cottage. Cairo nodded back in response before stepping over to the front of the wagon. Her dress was short enough for this day, in particular, was short reaching her upper thigh. The off-white fabric buttoned up to the base of her neck. The sleeves and hem are stitched with small ruffles, a set off from her dark brown waisted corset.
Beau climbed onto the wagon beside her with a heavy grunt as he settled, leaning back into the wood. "Yer' ready?" He smiled at his daughter, placing his large hand atop her head.
Cairo grabbed Mr. Sap's reins tightly. "Ready." She smiled back. She snapped the horse's reins into action, causing her father to lurch forward, his hooves beating the dirt road steadily, and off they went to the village fair.
The two set up rather quickly, pitching up their tent and unloading the crates in record time. They spared little for idle talk from familiar faces, readying to make good money from their hard work.
"That'll be ten pence, please." Cairo smiled warmly at yet another customer.
There are a lot of buyers today, she noted to herself.
Cairo held her hand out to a woman who had two of her children clinging to each of her legs and picked out thirteen eggs, three potatoes, and four carrots. The woman returned the smile, placing the copper coins in her hand. "Milk too?" The children chirped desperately, tugging at his mother's dress. The kind woman turned back to Cairo, a look of apology in her eyes.
Cairo shook her head at the woman in understanding and walked off to the back of their tent to fetch the jars of milk, as they couldn't be out in the sun. The woman paid Cairo four pence with a curt 'thank you' as she handed her the jars and departed with her younglings in tow.
Cairo put the coins away in a small pouch that was tied to her hip, the small valuables clinking together. Beau, who was feeding Mr. Sap in the back, as his daughter handled the purchases of their goods, patted her on the back. A look of delight danced in his eyes. "Yer' know how much we gots left?" He asked, his gaze floating over their half-empty crates. Cairo opened her mouth to respond before a familiar voice shouted from the other side of the fair.
"Mr. Hilton!"
A short, stubby man by the name of Ezra rejoiced with arms opened wide, a coy smile on his face as he emerged from the crowd of townsfolk. His hair was slicked back from his forehead. His shirt sleeves, too, were rolled up, exposing his forearms. The top two buttons of his shirt were left unfastened, revealing a tuft of graying browns, similar to that of his hair. He held a lit cigar between his two fingers, the smoke dispersing in the air.
"And Ms. Cairo," The man, Ezra, addressed her, dipping his head down at her. "You grown up so much since I last saw you. Look just like your mama." He continued. Cairo gave him a slight nod in response, as she didn't like the man all that much, finding him annoying.
"Thank you." She clipped.
"How old you now? Twenty-one years?"
"Only twenty," Beau interrupted, arms crossed and forcing a smile. "Simmons, good to see you."
Beau, too, did not like Ezra very much. The two never seemed to get along, thus beginning the birth of their rivalry when it came to everything farmer. Beau is the one to started this competition in the first place. He enjoyed seeing Simmons miserable. Always losing to him.
"How's business?" Beau probed, coming from behind the tent. Ezra's eyebrows knitted together at the question before he brought his cigar to his lips, taking a puff. The lit end glowed brightly under the morning sun. "Business is good," He assured hesitantly as he blew the smoke back out. His upbeat demeanor now gone. "Them damn wild dogs have been comin' n' going with my livestock these past days. Don't much in them crates." He added, gesturing back at his tent with his cigar.
Cairo expected to see her father smile at this, as he had won this little battle of theirs. But to her surprise, Beau's expression shifted into that of seriousness, the conversation continuing. "I been hearin' 'bout them wild dog attacks. Lots of folks losin' whole flocks 'cause of them things. Left with only crop if they lucky. Even heard Mrs. Jassa lost her boy too few days back." Beau agreed. The two were wrapped up in their conversation on the recent devastating attacks.
Cairo leaned on their stand and propped her head up, her chin resting in the palms of her hands, quietly eavesdropping. She didn't think it had gotten so bad here in just a few months, hell, days. The old man and she have lost some of the animals over the past months, but this? This was unnerving. It explained why more people were buying this year than the last.
Suddenly, a loud, bloodcurdling scream pierced through the bustling energy of the fair. Beau and Ezra stopped talking and turned their heads as Cairo too snapped her head in the direction of the sound. It took her a moment as there was a crowd, but as people started to tumble backwards, frozen in shock, she saw it; A throng of large men accompanied by a few wolves stormed in through the village! One of the men, had the torn-off head of a villager in his possession, the body nowhere to be found. The dark red liquid from the head flowed over the man's fingers, dripping to the ground. The scene set off the townspeople as more screams erupted, panic plaguing the streets as the people ran in all kinds of directions to escape the unwelcome guests.
The men launched into action as if taunting, awaiting the moment to chase down innocent villagers, ripping the very lives from them. Ezra bolted back to his tent, cigar between his lips and unwilling to linger a moment longer in the hell-ridden place. However, the small statured man didn't get far before a fast flying sword pinned his skull to the ground, his blood flowing freely. Beau, having witnessed the premature death of his now deceased rival, turned to his daughter, who was unmoving, trembling behind their tent and horrified by what she had just seen.
What used to be a spirited fair quickly turning into that of a ruthless massacre.
"Cairo!" Beau called out to her, confusion and fear racking him. But Cairo didn't hear him over the ringing in her ears. Blood was everywhere, decorating homes and shops in a grim manner. Bodies splayed about the floor. In quick strides, Beau stormed over to the girl and spun her around, shaking her by the shoulders. "Get moving!" He bellowed, pushing her to the back where Mr. Sap was waiting.
"W-what about the-" she stammered, looking back at her father. "Forget 'em" He talked over her sternly, following quickly behind her.
Mr. Sap was growing anxious, his hooves thumping the ground as he paced back and forth, snorting continuously. "Calm down, boy.." Beau urged the horse, distress seeping into his words. If the damned thing felt anymore alarmed there was no getting out of the village alive. Beau hurriedly lifted Cairo onto Mr. Sap's back, the large creature becoming weary from the unexpected weight. Beau hastily unfastened the wagon from the horse, as it would only serve to slow them down in their hour of escape.
Cairo watched her father from above when she noticed movement pit of the corners of her eyes. Three large wolves were creeping up from behind, the wolves emitting low growls. They were too big to be normal wolves; the sheer size of them was abnormal.
Beau turned around as one snapped at them, bearing its teeth with a deadly warning. Slober and spit dripping from its open muzzle. Mr. Sap was about to lose it, hooves hammering the ground, his front legs kicking up slightly in the air in pure fright.
Beau acted fast, pushing the wagon in the direction of the wolves, succeeding in knocking one of them down before the other two narrowly evaded.
Beau looked back at his daughter, who was struggling to get the beast under control enough for him to hop on behind her. If not the two of them, then maybe..
Beau sucked in a sharp breath.
"GRAB THE REINS!!" Beau roared to Cairo.
"Old man?" She squeaked.
Before she realize what was happening and object, Beau landed a powerful smack on the horse's flank, hurling him into action, away from what was once an active village, away from her old man.
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The man walked about the once vibrant village, stepping over the bodies he and his men had left to rot. He watched lazily as his men captured the women of the village, collecting them into a large group at the village center.
A woman in the growing circle attempted to sneak away from the group. She was unfortunately cut short precisely when the sizeable sword of one of his hunters cut through her with ease. The other women turned away from the sudden occurrence and huddled closer, trembling violently.
The distant sound of hooves galloping away shifted his attention. A girl rode on the back of a stallion away from the happenings of the village. The man watched as one of his men chased after her. Hot on the horse's tail. He walked leisurely at first, walking past some lycans who were ripping apart a man behind a tent. They stopped when he neared. The man's arm was between one of their teeth, blood dripping from his fur.
The man turned from them before going full sprint after the girl on the horse.
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The horse's body dug painfully into Cairo's legs as she rode like hell, but she couldn't stop. She snapped his reins continuously, urging him to gallop faster. She only looked back once since she left the village, the dispaired face of her father flashing in her mind as she watched him struggle against the wolves.
Tears flowed freely as she choked on her sobs. Cairo's parents were gone now, the cruel world ripping them from her. She was alone.
"Mama..Papa.." She blubbered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. The despair of her losses wracking her vigorously.
A snarl came from behind her, ceasing her moment of self-pity to a halt. Terror quickly took the place of sadness as she could feel Mr. Sap losing balance. Cairo looked back, her eyes wide with panic. The wolf nipped and swatted at his back legs, even attempting to jump on, digging its claws into the back of the horse. Mr. Sap let out a loud whine of pain, legs fully kicked up in the air, and stumbling backwards. Cairo lost her grip on his reins before her head and the rest of her body hit the dirt with a solid thud, the wind being knocked out of her.
She watched with blurry vision as the wolf chased down her horse, the poor thing not getting very far before she was rolled onto her back by a large, rough hand. A man peered down at her with what she assumed was a scowl. Her vision eventually going black.