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This is a work of FICTION, made by and for adults. The following chapter includes depictions of trauma, cutting, minor bleeding, and unintentional suicide. Reader discretion is advised.
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As the waning moon rose in the near dark of twilight, a young woman turned her head swiftly towards a faint glow in the distance, disturbing her frizzy, ginger locks. As she peered through the thick brush of the pine forest, the dim light of the setting sun barely let her make out torches and flickering red flames, followed by the distant shouting of men.
‘*No… How are they inside the ward?*’ Elva’s eyes widened while her heart stopped as she dropped her foraging basket. Turning swiftly, Elva sprinted to her cottage, hidden only a little further in the woods. The trees and branches seemed to grab her as she ran, snagging her dress and scraping her cheeks while rocks stabbed into her feet with every other step.
Just moments later, Elva spotted the wooden hut; she breathed a sigh of relief before her foot caught on a root, throwing her to the forest floor and knocking the wind from her with a huff. As she raised her head in a daze, Elva opened her eyes to see the cottage in a blur before coming into focus after a moment.