The dark forest raced by as a teen ran between the trees in a hectic race away from his pursuers, well aware of just how much trouble he found himself in. His breath got caught in his throat for a second, as an arrow shot beside his ear not five centimeters away from hitting him, and planted itself deeply into a nearby tree with a cracking sound. He quickened his run, knowing that if they could get this close to actually hitting him, then they were too close by far.

The sound of thundering hoofs against the forest floor increased, and Jack cursed himself for having picked this route to his escape from the crime scene; he had been so certain that running through the most foul part of the forest would have slowed his pursuers down, and it had, at first, but in the end it had had the opposite effect too. He hadn't taken into consideration that the branches from trees and bushes would slow him down as well, as they kept getting stuck in his clothes, slowing him down even further. Of course, with his pursuers on horseback's, it didn't make it any easier for them, but they were still getting too close for his likening. Why he absolutely had had to do it to those guys, out of all the people he could have done it to, he had no idea. He could have waited until he got to the nearest farm or village, and gotten away without being caught, but no, instead he had absolutely had to steal from them. It had been so obvious that they were bounty hunters, and yet he hadn't seen any of the signs, as all he had been focused on was the feast just waiting for him to get his grip on near their camp's fireplace. He knew he shouldn't have lingered in the nearby area after having stolen it, he should have learned that by now, but he had just been too hungry to get any further away than a few hundred meters, before he had to get something into his screaming stomach. Not that anyone should blame him; it had been days if not weeks since he last had had a proper meal, leaving him on the edge of starvation.

If anyone, a few years ago, had told him that he would be experiencing starvation and having to seek to thievery in order to survive, he would have laughed them directly into their faces, stating that they were out of their minds. But look at him now. Nothing more than a mere thief was what he had become. He had to admit, however, that it gave a rush of adrenalin and excitement, and was endearing to steal, but it also left a feel of guilt knowing how hard some people in these lands worked to get their everyday meal to their children. But in order to survive, then a man has got to do, what a man has got to do.

As he continued his run, he ducked under a branch and jumped over a brook, taking the opportunity to look over his shoulder and seeing just how close his pursuers were. Fear spread in him like lightening, and in his desperation for getting away, he made a left turn, without really looking where he was headed and -

'No, no, no, no!'

His heart skipped a beat, as a tree root made him fall, and stumble in a neck breaking speed all the way down to the foot of a high steep. He curled in on himself to protect himself and his Sheppard's hook from the fall, as he hit into branches and stones – gasps escaping him each time he hit something more painful than the other – gaining cuts and bruises on his long way down, well aware that this was going to hurt like hell when the fall would end.

At the final impact with the forest floor, the wind was knocked out of him as he landed on his back. He gasped for air and stared up at the dark night sky while the whole world was wildly spinning around him, feeling like everything was upside down, and his whole body was hurting from the many hits he had gained on the way down. He felt sick and were unable to feel just how much damage really was impaled to his body.

"Stop the thief!" A dark voice from the top of the steep yelled with anger to his underlings. "There's bound to be a prize on his head for thievery, if not then I'll have his hands as a trophy!"

The yell pulled Jack out of his temporarily daze. He dizzily stumbled to his feet and despite the world was continuous spinning, and he felt like the fall might have sprained his ankle, then he didn't give it much thought as he fought his way further into the vile forest, having to support to the passing trees, until the world would completely stop spinning around him. The pain in his ankle affected his run, making it harsh for him to keep up a proper speed without blinding pain shooting through it.

He needed to get away, and he needed to do it quickly before they caught up to him again. There might not be a bounty on his head yet, as far as he knew anyway - maybe there was? - but he still couldn't let them capture him. He knew what they would do with him if they did. Bounty hunters were as good as outlaws, but because they got rid of criminals either by killing them or by actually bringing them to the authorities, then the guards never did anything against what they did outside the law, of that simple reason that they made their job easier for them.

A horses' neigh sounded from the direction to which Jack was running, knowing it was the bounty hunters, because honestly, who else could it be? He cussed and quickly looked around, trying to figure what to do. Time was running out, and so were his opportunities of hiding. The wind blew against him and made him look up, and he understood. Despite the the horrible pain in his ankle, then he ran as fast as he could, ignoring the pain. He raised his Sheppard's hook, caught a branch in the tree he was running towards and swung himself from the ground and up into the tree's branches, where he disappeared just as a horse with its rider was passing where he had been not five seconds before.

He barely dared to breathe as the searching rider passed underneath, and sighed of relief as the sounds of the horse disappeared into the night. If only he could stay unnoticed until he was certain that the bounty hunters were gone, then it would be perfect. Just imagining what would happen if they caught him send chills down his spine.

With tiring moves he crawled up the tree, trying to use his left foot as little as possible, as the pain from it now had gotten worse from overuse during the run and jump into the tree. He didn't get far up, however, before he settled down on a thick branch with a heavy sigh. He rested with his back against the trunk and carefully pulled his leg up to study his ankle in the scanty light; it was swollen and dark, and blood dripped from a deep cut he had gained just under his lateral malleolus. It was too dark to see anything else other than that, but he could definitely feel that there was something inside the cut that wasn't meant to be there.

Well this was just great.

He winched when pain shot through the injury as he laid his hand above the cut to prevent the blood from escaping any further, at least until it would be morning so he could cleanse the wound before it would become too infected. Despite his limited knowledge with anything medical then he had a pretty good idea of what to do in this situation. Or at least he hoped so.

And if his ankle had become this bad, then he definitely did not want to see how the rest of him looked. Probably just as bad he'd bet.

Despondently he leaned his head back, and looked up towards the dark night sky where the light from the moon was just barely able to be spotted through the thick layer of rain-clouds. He didn't know whether to be disappointed or not over the fact that it was hidden away. Somehow he was glad he couldn't see it, knowing how pathetic he must look at the moment, and yet he would still have appreciated the company. Then he wouldn't have to spend another night alone, and wouldn't have to feel like he was completely invisible to anyone who wouldn't hurt him.

A sigh escaped him at the thought. He knew it was too much to ask, and that he deserved to live like this, but it still felt... empty.

With a last glance around, to make sure no bounty hunter had found his track, he closed his eyes with a frown and tried to get some rest before he knew he would have to get going in the morning, praying that he would not be found by the hunters meanwhile.

.。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・°

The sun was just beginning to rise on the sky above the ancient forest. The entire place was quiet except from the few birds beginning to wake up and give their every day concert, while other wildlife began to awaken and stir, bringing life back into the world.

A black horse wandered through the forest with silent steps, and its cautious rider on its back. He was young and strong, tall and muscular, with dark brown hair, wonder filled blue eyes, and possessing a mustache and a short, but pointed goatee. He wore a black fur hat, black boots, a blue shirt, along red coat with black fur trim on his cuffs, and was well armed with several swords strapped both to his waist and back.

He had good reason to be cautious and on guard; the night before there had been a huge ruckus in the area, and despite that it probably just had been some bears fighting then that was no reason to relax. It was dangerous times after all, and with the Great General who had run amok, the lands had become dangerous, especially during the nights outside the cities and villages. It had caused many human lives during the last three years, so there were no telling what could be lurking in the woods. There could be everything from normal wildlife and magical beings to nightmares and fearlings, however, the lighter the world became around him, the lesser was the possibility of a nightmare attacking. But the possibility were always lurking in the shadows.

"Come on, Petrov, there's nothing here," the rider said with a heavy accent which clearly told that he was not of this kingdom. He led his loyal steed away from the road and into the wilderness in search for something to hunt for breakfast, and to make sure that he did not come across anyone with the wrong intentions, though a good morning duel wouldn't do any harm.

Nicholas St. North, which was the name of the rider, stopped his horse as they came to a steed which blocked their way any further. It was out of the question for them to continue up the steep, it was simply impossible. With a resigned look Nicholas looked at the surrounding area, and frowned as he noticed something on the ground. With an elegant move he dismounted his horse and walked to the red mass covering a part of the grass at the foot of the steep. He let his fingers touch if, finding it to be a rust colored substance, almost completely dry. With a thoughtful expression he looked up the steep, noticing the way the stones, twigs and branches had been pushed and broken, as if something had been falling down from the top, leaving a trail of blood from halfway down and further into the forest. Whatever it was, which had been unfortunate enough to fall down from the top of that place, was definitely hurt, and considering that the blood still was half liquid, possibly because of the humid weather, then it hadn't been long since this had happened.

A smile spread across the young man's lips as he began to follow the trail of blood with Petrov following him from behind. If he followed the trail then he was bound to stumble across the hurt animal. If the animal wasn't dead by itself, and then taken by other wildlife, then he had gotten an easy hunt – all he had to do then was to make an end to its suffering and then there would be food.

As he followed the trail, he tried to figure just what he would find. It couldn't be a warthog or a deer, since the footprints were wrong. They were too broad to be one of those, however they weren't clear enough to actually make out. It was definitely not a bear, since the broken twigs and branches would have been wider apart than they were if that was the case. It was something thin, obviously hurt on one leg, but what it was, he was unable to tell. He was no hunter, and had therefore minimal knowledge of what it was he followed, but now that he looked closer on the tracks, then it almost seemed like it had been fleeing from something.

Could it was a fay? If so, then he had no doubt hit jackpot, as such one could be sold for at least fifty sovereigns, and then he might as well just buy some food. Of course this all depended on whether or not the creature were still alive, and whether or not it would be able to use magic.

With his thoughts filled with the possibilities of what he might find, he stopped up as the trail suddenly ended. Confused he looked around, unable to see any animal anywhere near the trail at all. What had happened to what he had been tracing this entire time? The wildlife couldn't have devoured it this fast, could it? An animal couldn't just disappear out into the blue. Unless it really was a fay.

Frustrated he looked around, now wanting to find it more than in order to figure just what had happened to his pray. It couldn't disappear, it just couldn't.

He was about to turn around in pure frustration in order to track it back to see if there was something he had missed, that was, until something wet hit him on his forehead.

The young Cossack stopped in his tracks when he had dried the liquid off. It was blood. His frustration disappeared and was replaced with confusion as looked up, just as another drop fell down on his chin from the branches above him. He almost couldn't believe it. This meant that the animal had sought refuge in the branches right above him. What a strange place for it to do so, but none the less, then it meant that he now knew where it was, and seeing the blood still fell fresh, then it was still alive, or at least dead a few minutes ago.

He signaled for his horse to stay, before he, with his dagger in his mouth, began to climb up the tree, excited to find his prey and find out just what was for dinner or to be sold on the market. He almost laughed when he spotted it; dangling from each side of one of the upper branches, were to be spotted two skinny legs whereas one of them held a foot which was swollen, covered in blood, and had a very bad cut which looked to be infected. The legs were completely covered in bruises too, not leaving it hard to imagine how the rest of the body must look like.

So he had tracked down a fay. Well, this was going to be interesting. He was going to earn a fortune if it was alive, even more if it held the gift of magic. Just thinking about it was enough for him to be able to make a somersault. But now came the tricky part. To capture it.

Carefully, he continued his tour further up, completely aware of not making any noise, as well as completely ignoring the dripping blood from the creature's leg. He continued to crawl up, just until he was right under it. He hesitated and took a deep breath. If this one held magic then he had to be prepared for the worst. He closed his eyes for a moment to collect his concentration in order to do it, before he slowly crawled the last bit up, and immediately put his dagger for the fay's throat and... He stiffened at what he saw. What he had thought to be a fay had been nothing more than an ordinary human-being. Almost immediately his whole composure faltered and he just stared wide eyes at the youngster before him.

He almost chocked on his breath when he saw just how many bruises the boy had; his chocolate brown hair was partly rust colored by blood, and bruises and wounds covered his face, neck and hands, making almost impossible to see the light dusting of freckles on his cheeks. His skinny body was covered dirty clothes; a worn blue tunic, which seemed to once had been quite fancy looking, with a belt around his waist, worn brown pants, and from his shoulders hung a brown hooded rope and a messenger bag, all covering whichever bruises was underneath the clothing. His arms were crossed, keeping a Sheppard's hook in check so it wouldn't fall to the ground while asleep. He couldn't be much more than seventeen years old.

With a slow move to not wake up the boy, Nicholas removed the dagger and put it back into his belt. Despite the disappointment of having found neither animal or fay, then he felt bad for the boy, imagining just how much it must have hurt for him to fall from the steep, and then having to crawl all the way up here in order to feel safe in the night. It wasn't a wonder why he had done so, with nightmares lose in the nights, and predators in the forest, then a tree probably was one of the only places one would find oneself safe in.

He watched the youth as he slept peacefully with a small frown on his face, completely unaware of the presence of another being, who had been ready to hurt him in any way possible, had he only been a fay ready to fight.

So what should he feel? Disappointed for not having found an animal nor fay, or happy that it had been a youngster, whom he could help out? He didn't know, really he didn't. He was a caring person, actually way too caring and kindhearted to his own good when it came to people in need. And this boy was in need for some serious medical help. At least that was one thing Nicholas knew he was good at. He didn't have to think any further before he had figured it. He needed to help the kid, take care of his wounds and help him heal up, at least until he would be able to be on his own again. Yeah... That was what he wanted to do.

Suddenly a neigh sounded underneath them from Petrov, alerting Nicholas that someone or something was coming, and unintentionally the sound wakened the boy. The youth opened his eyes and sat up with a start, but immediately collapsed in on himself as the sudden movement caused pain explode through his body.

'His injuries must be severe, for him to act like that,' Nicholas decided as he worried watched the pained boy.

"You stay here," the Cossack said with a determined expression, now more dedicated to help the boy than before. The sound of his voice startled the boy, whose head snapped to stare at him with huge, fearsome, chocolate brown eyes. He didn't need anymore than that to know that whatever was coming their was was undoubtedly after him. "I'm going to make sure it's safe for you to come down." He began to crawl down, leaving no room for any objections. All thoughts about hunting and fays forgotten in the second they had held eye-contact. The boy might be a stranger, but if there was one thing North didn't like to see it was children being scared and being hurt. That boy had been both, and it worried him. Whether he was a criminal or no, had gotten hurt by himself or by the hands of others, then children did not deserve to be in a state like this. The look in the boy's eyes when he had stared at him had been as if he had expected him to be one who would hurt him, and made it clear for Nicholas something was undoubtedly wrong.

Nicholas reached the ground, well aware of the pair of eyes which followed his every move from far above. He looked up, and their eyes locked for a mere second before the boy looked away, seeing something in the distance, which he couldn't. But before long the sound of hoofs against the forest floor met his ear, and he turned, only to see four men come riding his way, each with tired and frustrated expressions.

"Have you seen a male teen, with brown hair and a brown rope, running this way?" One of them asked aggressively to the Cossack as they made hold before him.

Nicholas sensed the teen stiffening in the tree above him when the man's voice reached him, but else the boy was dead silent and didn't even move a muscle. Whatever it was between him and these men, he wouldn't let them get to the boy, but now it was absolutely clear for him that, yes the boy was indeed being hunted. For once he was thankful for his sixth sense about those things. "No, I have not seen anyone," he said with a smile, trying to be as nice towards these men as possible, "why are you looking for him, if I may?"

A growl appeared on their faces by the question. "That doesn't concern you, stranger, have you seen the boy or no?"

"That I cannot say I have, but even if I had, then that is most worry-some attitude to hold towards strangers if you ask them for help to search someone out, no?"

Two of the men exchanged glances at noticing Nicholas' accent, before one of them drew his sword and pointed it towards the Cossack. "Tell us why a man from the lands of the Spires is travelling in the Kingdom of Hibernis? What are you doing this far away from home, Cossack?"

"Why I answer question, when you do not answer mine?" Nicholas questioned lightly and stroked his black mustache, secretly celebrating that he had successfully leading the four men's attention away from why they had stopped up in the first place. "Is not fair, no?"

"You insolent Cossack," one spat in anger, "you are not welcome in our lands! Why don't you take your horse and go back to your king?"

Nicholas sighed. "Is freedom not that we are all allowed to travel from kingdom to kingdom as we find fit outside of times of war? I am just as welcome here as you."

"We are natives of these lands."

"Why of course you are," he nodded in a rather unimpressed way. "And that is why you understand that the laws of traveling, which the kingdoms made in truce, is for everyone who travels in the lands." He looked the man, who held his sword pointed towards him, in the eyes. "But since your Great General ran amok three years ago, I have no way of returning to my own kingdom, since the boarders are closed; now this kingdom is just as much my home as it is yours until boarders opens, and does law not say that people who wish to move, are free to take to whatever kingdom which they see fit to serve as their new home, as long as they bow to the laws of the new chosen homeland?"

"Then why come here in the first place?"

The Cossack simply shrug. "Why is the sky blue. Why are the leaves withering in fall. Why are seasons changing. Who knows. I may be here of fate, or I might be here for admiration of the kingdom. Or I might be here because boarders are closed until they open."

Silence fell upon them as the men looked at the Cossack before them, unable to really say anything against his logic. It didn't last long however, before the strongest-looking of them - no doubt their leader - growled and turned to his men. "Don't listen to him, he's distracting us from what we were doing; we have to find that cursed boy, have you forgotten? This insolent Cossack is slowing us down."

"Oh right," one muttered, as if he first now remembered what they were meant to do, which caused one of his allies to slap him in the back of the head.

"So, what are you men waiting for? Search the area for the boy! Give the signal once you find him!" Their leader spoke, looking at his men with determination and frustration in his voice and features. By his orders his small handful of men began to scatter around and away in their search for the boy, though their leader lingered, and stared at the foreigner with a sneer on his lips. "Nice try in trying to make use forget, Cossack, but I know you are not here by your own will; you've doubtlessly done something which caused you to have to escape from your land up North. There's a bounty on your head I'm sure, but be glad with the knowledge that we've let you stay free. For now. But next time our paths cross, you will not be this lucky."

Nicholas crossed his arms, but kept a smile on his face, for some reason enjoying the threat. "Oh, is that so? Then I will be looking forward to having a duel with you. You do know us men from the land of the Spires are famous for our swordsmanship, no?"

The bounty hunter nodded as a light appeared in his eyes of the thought of fighting a man with those abilities sprouted in his mind. With a quick and swift move he pulled his sword and took a swing against the Cossack, who in the blink of an eye had parried the hunter with a mere dagger. "I will be looking forward to that, but know this; I have no intention into losing to the likes of you."

"And I do not intend to lose either."

A grin – a horrific one at that – spread on the bounty hunter's lips, as he pulled back his sword into the shed, and without as much as a word, sat his horse in trot, and disappeared into the wilderness of the forest in his search for the boy, who had been just above their heads this whole time.

Long time went by before North finally dared to speak up, admiring how they hadn't been able to see the light dusting of blood and other leads on the ground to the boys location. He was no less than thankful that they hadn't. "They're gone," he called up into the tree, when he was certain that none of the men were close enough to be able to see and hear them. What the boy had done to anger a gang of bounty hunters was a question he was dying to figure out. Maybe the boy was a criminal after all? It wasn't uncommon to find youngsters who sought to criminality in order to survive, and not end up at the orphanages or jail like those who got caught was.

However, there was no response from the teen, not even when Nicholas repeated what he had just said.

He shook his head with a sigh – kids these days – as he began to crawl up the tree once again, to make the boy come down. He needed to have his wounds checked, especially the one on his ankle which was infected. If he didn't get it treated probably, then he might have to lose his foot. A chill went down his spine as he thought of how horrible it would be for one so young, who had his whole life ahead of him. Sure, he was only a couple of years younger than he, but Nicholas knew that if he lost his foot, then it would mean so many things would be over for him, and be out of his grasp to do. Therefore he could at least help the teen with getting his wound cleansed probably. At least so he could outrun the hunters if needed.

But once he finally reached the high branch where he knew the boy was sitting, the youth was long gone.

A/NIt's different, I know, but I just had to make this, so I don't know whether it's good or no. Tell me what you think, so I know whether or not to continue?

*Hibernisis latin for winter, so it's basically the Kingdom of Winter. I know, I needed to call it something, don't judge..

*Land of Spires- mainly means Russia, but in this world, it goes by that name. This is a fantasy story after all, so wanted to do some uniquenames for the kingdoms, though this probably is a lame name, but that was all my imagination could provide with.