An excerpt from Rose Adeen: A Rich Life by Lola Martin

Dear Rosie, much like every girl of her time, grew up with the typical wishes of a maiden. She wished herself to be the perfect wife, the perfect mother, and the perfect role model. She wished to cook like her sisters, to sew like her best friends, and to run a house like her mother and grandmother before her. Rosie, or Red Hood, as the common folk and higher ups refer to her, was as normal a girl as you could imagine. It's ever so unfortunate that Rosie did not have the same luck as everyone else, though she certainly had something else: a fighting spirit.

Rosie Adeen had the spirit of a wolf in her, and soon enough she'd let it run wild.

Miku has never been a fan of popular author Lola Martin's writing. She's far too reporter-esque, her books reading as though she's writing a battle report. A battle report full of street gossip. Did this woman actually do any research?

Miku knew she didn't, because if she did, Miss Martin would know that Rose Adeen, the red-haired saint of Hunters and Huntresses alike, did not have a maiden's aspirations. This was knowledge passed down to the children in the Hunter communes. Everyone inside those high, red walls knew that Rose was far more than a content housewife, or a little girl dreaming of her prince. Rose was a steamy commoner girl, who was not content with her lot in life.

It disgusted Miku that her idol, her distantly related grandmother, had been written as some sort of ditzy princess-wannabe. But as she had not been alive at the time of this book's printing, there was very little she could do about the information inside it. And seeing as this was the latest edition of it (number 13, if anyone happens to be curious), Miku had a feeling that the publishing company wouldn't be fixing these inaccuracies soon.

Admittedly, it was an exciting story they sold. A lonely young girl who had only her wits and her family growing up with few womanly skills and no suitors to speak of. A commoner, a normal child, who grew to be the most important figure in human history. If Miku herself had been raised a normal girl, the hope inside the message of the book would certainly attract her. But as an intelligent young woman with the backstory she had, Miku knew everything in these mottled pages was false, lies concocted to draw in an oblivious audience. And generation after generation, they all seemed to fall for it.

Miku cast the book aside, wishing she had brought better reading material. Her present situation was not the least bit interesting, but it was far better than this waste of paper.

Her red hood, for once, was tucked away, out of sight. Not that the crowd around her would care to look at a pale-faced maiden, small for her age, with nothing much about her that stood up. They would, of course, be wrong to ignore her, but this was what Miku wanted.

Miku sat near the back of an arena. It was small, far smaller than a proper death match arena in the countries she had visited elsewhere. But there was room to fight down below, and room for a crowd full of idiots, wasting their money on fixed bets Miku saw trading hands before the show.

She watched as two muscular men, likely the top bachelors of the village, fought one another, hits beating skin and bones cracking with effort. She saw every twitch of muscle, and knew exactly what was going on.

Of course, she had seen this kind of thing elsewhere. Everywhere, in fact. Fighting was the blood of the kingdom, what made the people strong and capable. While other kingdoms prided themselves in whatever moronic sport they had developed, the age-old tradition of hand-to-hand combat never failed to bring a crowd in.

Strictly speaking, Miku was not supposed to be there. But then again, she wasn't old enough to be sent after an Alpha wolf. Strictly speaking.

Miku allowed her fingers to work at her tangled hair, portraying a typical nervous habit. In reality, this was a forced behavior. Yet another way for a young girl to blend into a crowd. Of course a sweet, young thing like Miku would worry over the battle, but in reality her mind worked like a clock. She saw moves before they were made, she watched as hits were followed through with, and she understood the implication of each twitch of the lip.

Miku Hatsune, despite being an outcast, was an expert at people.

The fight eventually came to a close, the reigning champion easily overtaking his opponent. Miku could feel the disappointment rolling off of her in waves as the crowd went wild, faces masks of glee and accomplishment as though they themselves had defeated the man in question.

Miku couldn't quite feel the way they did. In fact, she couldn't help but feel betrayed. Of course, this was silly, and Miku knew better than to be silly, so she squashed that feeling down as best she could as she stood to leave. She knew that, as soon as the crowd had calmed down, her name would be called, and the crowd would expect for a strong, scarred man to walk confidentially up to that fighting rink. They would expect him to pull off his shirt, revealing years of built-up muscles, and for a hearty banter or a rude word to be exchanged before the fight was officially started. And Miku knew that, when she failed to show up, nothing would come of it but a few minutes of confused silence, broken by muttering, followed by the final decision that the little worm of a man had been too much of a coward to face the village champion.

But the disappointment they felt at having their battle stolen was nothing compared to Miku's disappointment. Because despite the word spread far and wide that Gakupo Kamui, the winner in the rink, was the best there ever was, Miku knew that he was no match for a Hunter.

It was a stupid idea, anyway. She shouldn't have come here.

Miku left the stuffy wooden building, the night pressing down around her. Lanterns caught fresh snow on the ground, sending sparkles across the white surface. It was pretty tonight, with a few amount of people out on the streets. The markets had been moved inside for the winter, and firewood sat piled on porches. Miku's twenty-four-hours would be up soon, but for tonight she was too tired to stay up until that point. Besides, her sharp ears had yet to pick up the inevitable village gossip that came with an Alpha wolf. "Sheep killed, nightmares in every house, animals acting up… You don't think it's…?"

The town was safe for now. And she was done wasting time. She would head home and sleep, rise for an early morning and head out to scour the forest. Where an Alpha wolf was, there were always other wolves to be found. A Mutt or two could appear. Miku had already taken care of a Beta, which was worth 500 gold pieces alone. She could buy the entire village with that money.

Miku trod along through the falling snow, her cloak now secured around her shoulders. It kept the cold off her quite well, repelling water and melting snow. Her breath came in white clouds and her nose stung with cold, but she found herself otherwise comfortable and suited to the cold.

She was reminded that others were not quite as lucky as her when she stopped suddenly, hearing the sharp breathing of something small. It was a human child – no, a mutant child. Their breath was not strong. In fact, if Miku listened hard enough, she could hear a weakening heartbeat. Understanding that no danger lie in wait for her, she turned to the source, and nearly froze.

The tiny, malnourished body of her firecare girl lay back against a snow mound, hidden by shadow and falling flakes. Her skin was terrible ill-looking, and Miku knew she would not last long in this cold. What could have possessed this child to stray into the cold winter night like this? Miku couldn't imagine, but that wasn't important for now.

Miku didn't hesitate in scooping the girl up, her red cloak wrapped around her. She had whipped it off without a moment's thought and proceeded to carry the limp girl through the streets as though she were a doll. Miku, while not the strongest Huntress, could certainly take the weight of a little girl in her arms.

Soon enough, she reached her cabin, tucking the girl into her own bed and dragging it closer to the fire. She carefully worked a towel through her long, knotted hair, doing her best to dry her off. It took a while for her breathing to ease, but Miku felt more than confident she would survive. She may be weak by human standards, but there were things about the mutant girl that would certainly aid her after a night in the harsh cold.

Miku heated a skim of water, placing it on the girl's forehead. Her cheeks began to regain some color, and Miku determined that it would be safe to leave her alone.

With no options left to her, Miku curled up on the floor by the fire, her cloak wrapped around her like a blanket.

In the morning, when cruel dawn light awoke her, Miku stretched like a cat front her night's sleep on the floor. It wasn't nearly as bad as it sounded; wolves slept on the ground outside. Miku, with her tiny percent of wolf DNA, could stand a night on a hard, wood floor in front of a fire.

The girl still remained curled in her bed, eyes shut and skin raw from the cold. She was alive, at least.

Miku eyed her before going about her normal morning routine, which involved no shortage of weapon-readying. While Miku did not rely on weapons in the heat of action, preferring to use her hands and her body to fight, she understood the importance of understanding how to use weapons. The dagger at her belt was the only one in her arsenal that saw much action. The crossbow, sword, and dual combat fists (an interesting invention that allowed her to channel her energy into her punches) were rarely used, unless for the purpose of training. Miku wasn't the only Huntress to prefer this way, but those who preferred weapons were not in short supply, either.

Miku did love her weapons in her own way, but above anyone else she understood their importance over their sentimental value. The dual combat fists may have been given to her by her old instructor on her naming day, but Miku knew she couldn't use them as effectively as possible yet. Until she was stronger with them than without them, she would not use them in battle.

As she wrapped her traditional cloth strips around the naming scars on the back of her hand, there was a knock on the door. Instantly, she became aware of the scent of worry, and perhaps fear. There was an underlying scent she didn't understand, but the main thing she realized was that she had allowed herself to be surprised.

Miku went to open the door under a rush of mental self-correction. She shouldn't have let such a thing happen. She had to get her head in the present. Miku Hatsune was better than this.

She opened the old cabin door to see a familiar boy standing there nervously. He was taller than her, which was in no way surprising, and he seemed more than terrified to meet her eyes. In an instant, Miku recognized him as the useless human boy who had stalled her mission, and couldn't help but feel immediate contempt for him.

"Uh, hello," he greeted her. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for my little sister. She comes by here to tend your fire."

Miku gestured with her head inside, where the girl still lay sleeping. The boy took it as a welcome inside, and stepped past her into the warm cabin.

He instantly gasped and looked at her in an accusing way. "What is she doing in your bed?" he demanded. The allegation was obvious, but Miku shut down his thought process with a bland look that made him flinch.

"I am not so despicable as to lure a child into my bed, you cretin," she replied. "I found her last night, out in the cold." Some appreciation is in order, not ungrateful accusations, she thought.

"I apologize," the boy replied, looking worn to the point of breaking. "I just… I've been so worried. I thought the worst might have happened."

Miku didn't say anything, allowing the boy into her personal quarters in order to sit next to his sleeping sister. She didn't stir, her nose wrinkling at the boy's familiar scent.

Looking closer at him, Miku could tell her had no wolf blood in him. He was a pure human being, unlike his younger sister. It was obvious the two did not share the same two parents.

Apart from his obvious human qualities, Miku noticed that, for a young human boy, he was fairly attractive. He did not seem physically inclined, his body thin and tired beneath his worn clothes. He looked very similar to his sister, his messy blonde hair splayed in much the same way, his eyes shaped into the same odd ovals. But unlike the girl, he looked worn and sad in ways a child should not look. He couldn't have been much younger than Miku, but he seemed to carry his own weight. Miku knew peasants and commoners often led difficult lives, and she did what she could about that, but she couldn't help but feel sympathy for the boy.

"Thank you for taking care of her," he spoke up suddenly, running his hand gently over the girl's messy hair. She continued to sleep as he did. "If… if it's not any trouble, could she stay here for the day?"

Miku didn't question the request. "I don't see why not. However, in return, you must tend to my fire instead. I have work to do and I don't feel particularly inclined to come home to a freezing bed."

The boy nodded. "I can do that," he agreed.

Miku slipped into her red cloak and noticed the look that crossed the boy's face. "Help yourself to the food. And keep your sister warm, boy," she instructed as she finished preparing for the day. She didn't wait for an answer as she entered the cold winter outside. More snow fell softly, covering tracks in the snow. There weren't many, but she saw that a rabbit had been past that morning, not too long ago. She could probably follow after it if she wished, to catch and kill it for dinner. But the Alpha wolf was more important, so she let the animal be.

Her own boots made deep marks in the snow, crunching underfoot. She disliked hunting in this weather. While the prey was easier to spot, you were also easier prey yourself. It added a whole new world of things to worry about and focus on, but the hunt was where Miku thrived and after years a practice, it was second nature to work in snow and frost such as this.

Miku blew out a heavy breath, watching the wind carry away the cloud she sent up into the air. She saw no villagers nearby and came to the conclusion that few individuals would venture into the forest today. An upside of the colder months, she supposed.

With one last glance at her makeshift home, she turned to her task and left the siblings to fend for themselves for the day.

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