Islinda believed that she made the best decision that benefitted both sides even though her bones rattled with the cold and her breath was a repetitive fog in front of her. She could not lose the deer that would feed her family for a while, nor could she abandon the Fae that might come after her for not helping him if he mysteriously survived. So yes, she did not exactly have a choice.
Hence Islinda fulfilled the task slowly yet persistently by taking the Fae with her and walking a great distance before letting him down at a spot and returning for the deer, covering the same gap. Thus, she repeated the same pattern over and over again till the abandoned hut came into view.
Now close to her destination, her blood began to pound loudly in her ears as her heart rate increased. Islinda had no idea what awaited her there, were the rumors true or false? Does she walk to her salvation or her end? A lot of thoughts filled her mind as it hit her that this might be her final moment.
Nonetheless, Islinda renewed her resolution and walked to the hut. The first thought that came to her mind was to knock and thus, she did. Perhaps, if the wicked Fae knew that she came in peace and to seek help for one of its kind, then he or she might be merciful towards her.
But when she rapped her knuckle against the wooden frame that seemed like it would unhinge anytime soon for the umpteenth time, Islinda had a feeling that the wicked Fae was not home. That is if there was any wicked Fae in the first place. Islinda always had a feeling that this hut might have been built by a hunter or a wanderer - who doesn't reside here anymore.
The first sign that the hut fell into disuse was the thick cobweb that got in their way and stuck to their body, slightly irritating her. With a continuous swipe of her hand, Islinda managed to wade through and they got to a corner where she settled him, his back against the wall.
The temperature inside the hut was a huge contrast against the biting cold outside and for a moment there, Islinda was tempted to relish the cozy warmth until she remembered that she had a frozen carcass waiting to be picked up. Islinda should be tired but she did not feel the pain yet. And oh, she will when the adrenaline coursing through her vein was exhausted.
She wondered if the Fae could hear her because his eyes were still shut and it was the assurance of his warm body that gave her hope of life in him. She said to him, "I need to go get my hunt and will be back soon."
Without waiting for an answer or any sign of a reaction, Islinda was already out of the hut, cursing at the raging snow. This time she ran, eager not only to return to the warmth of the cramped hut but to ensure no human stumbles upon her Fae.
Islinda almost did a double-take when she realized what she just thought.
"Her Fae?" Since when did she begin to think of that creature that way? Something must be wrong with her head. Perhaps, that Fae has begun to corrupt her mind with his magic until she's nothing but a slave to his will. No, Islinda shook her head, if he had the time to use magic on her, he wouldn't be dying right now.
She found her deer. More like a frozen version of it. But that didn't dissuade Islinda from carrying it and finding her way back to the hut. Islinda was not able to relax until she came in and found her Fae was exactly where she had dropped him. Good. Her first problem was averted. Now, how was she going to save a dying Fae?
All this while, Islinda forgot about the cramping hunger because she no longer felt it, now filled with a stronger purpose. By the time she completely looked around the small hut, Islinda was sure that this was made by a human and not a Fae. No Fae would keep a cooking pot - unless he needed it to boil his victims - a small knife, a wooden plate, and a spoon. There was a small stool but most of all, Islinda was grateful for the hearth.
It was obvious that whoever this hut belonged to intended to return judging from the dried woods parked at a side, but did not make it. A shiver made Islinda shudder at the idea that a Fae took him. However, as sorry as Islinda felt for him, so was life, and now his wood was going to be beneficial to her.
Piling enough woods in the hearth, Islinda picked up the stones the owner must have used to light his fire and attempted to make one only to fail woefully. Her hands were shaking and she couldn't even create a spark.
"Come on!" Islinda urged in desperation as she rubbed the stones against each other and yet there was no result. The only reason they weren't plunged into darkness was that the door to the hut was open, but the cold was beginning to permeate, gradually stealing the warmth away.
Her frustration grew as the stones gave off sparks but not enough to light the fireplace.
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