Chapter 25 | GOING FOR A WALK

I set down the bow against the side of the cabin on the front porch, walking in to warm up for the third time since I started shooting. Hours have passed by, and it's probably sometime late into the afternoon.

Not really sure what the exact time is, though.

I'm hungry, as I haven't had anything to eat yet today, and my arms are feeling quite sore already, as I've basically been shooting all day.

Eventually, from where I was standing, I got consistent with my shots and hit the middle. I had cheered, 'Yes!' a bit too loud, causing Vaughn to appear literally out of nowhere from behind the cabin, holding some chunks of wood. He glanced at me, the upheld bow, and then to the arrow at the very center of the target. And, as he turned away, I swear I saw the tiniest upturn of a smirk.

But maybe that was just my pride and imagination coming together...who knows?

Walking into the warm room, I leave on all of my winter clothes except for my choppers and boots.

Vaughn's standing in the kitchen area at the counter, appearing to be making something.

Standing in front of the woodstove, I ask, "Whatchya making?"

He glances up from the meat he's cutting. "Food."

"Okay, but what are you making specifically?"

"Venison, fried apples, and white rice."

I nod. I wonder how that'll taste. "When was the last time you went to town?"

He hesitates before answering, "About five months ago."

Quickly marking off the months with my fingers, I calculate when he would've went to the village. "The last time you saw other people besides me was in June??"

"Yes."

"Wow, so is the food safe to eat, or...?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Apples can last up to six months in the right conditions, and white rice has basically an indefinite shelf life if it's kept dry."

"Oh, okay."

"There's a reason why I'm cooking."

Ignoring the comment, I absentmindedly reply with: "Yeah."

As soon as I reply with that one word, however, I instantly cringe.

Now look who's being the more talkative one!

Vaughn, of all people!

So, I quickly come up with something else to ask.

"Am I going to learn how to shoot a gun, too?"

He takes all of the chopped up food, putting it into an oiled pan. "Keep practicing with the bow."

"Alright, sounds good."

Moving away from the woodstove so he can cook the food, I go and walk over to the bookshelf.

I want to ask him about himself and why he lives out here all alone.

I mean, I did have to tell him about what happened to me. But then again...I'm the one staying with him. So, it's not really fair.

Today's Wednesday, November 20th, 2019.

Exactly one week since the fire burned down the house, and I ran away.

I feel guilty, remembering how my foster mother constantly got berated by her husband. Sure, she wasn't the best to me, but she always got blamed for everything, even things out of her control.

She's always been the one getting burned.

"...Are you okay?"

I look up instantly to find Vaughn leaning against the counter with one eyebrow raised. Did I look that sad, or what? Quickly, I answer, "Huh? What? Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

He tilts his head to the side slightly, showcasing once more he's only ever around a dog, "Are you sure?"

I nod, "Yeah. Thanks for asking, though."

He looks like he doesn't believe me at all, but he drops it, turning to move the contents of the pan around a bit with a practically flat wooden spoon.

Or maybe it's a spatula type thing, who knows?

Once the food's done, he hands me a plate, and after muttering a 'thanks,' we eat in silence.

When we're done, I wash the dishes, and he heads outside to go feed the dog, as he tells me.

After that, I go back outside to practice shooting bow until it gets too dark.

The rest of the night passes by with me interacting with Vaughn once in a while. It's usually just me asking him random questions and him answering them, but at least it's something.

I seem to take a longer time than usual in the sauna before I go to bed. Vaughn doesn't say anything about it, though. Probably because he's asleep when I come back inside.

The next morning, when Vaughn pokes my shoulder and tells me to get up, you'd think I'd listen.

However, I'm much too stubborn. And, I'm feeling a bit pissy today, probably thanks to PMS. So, after I roll over and I hear the door open and close, I immediately crawl under the blankets in preparation for the man's return.

Ignoring how sore my arms feel from yesterday's shooting, I wrap the blankets tight around me, so he won't be able to put any snow on me.

And, when he steps back in as I assumed he would, I smirk to myself.

I wait to hear a sigh of exasperation of some sort, but it never comes.

There's just an eerie silence between us, and I start to grow very impatient. What's he waiting for?

A few more seconds pass by and then...I start to feel the drastic need to come up for air, and my head starts to hurt.

Oh, great.

I try my best to move the blankets around in a way he won't notice, keeping my movements small.

But as soon as I have a small area to breathe out of, I see a couple of gloved fingers appear like something out of a horror movie.

Oh, no.

I may or may not let out a small screech as the blankets start to get pulled up, and I quickly scramble to pull them back.

However, he's stronger.

After they're tossed to the side, a handful of snow is immediately dropped on top of my head.

I cringe, wiping the snow away from my face as it begins to liquefy. I feel angrier than I did the last time he did that.

Even though he's wearing gloves, I'm surprised that the snow lasted long enough to melt on me.

It's really not fair.

Looking up at the man sitting on the wooden end of the futon, I'm surprised to see that he has the slightest sliver of a smirk on his face. It fades soon after we make eye contact and he sees my expression, though. "Nice try," he comments.

I glare at him, "I was clearly awake. Was that really necessary?"

All he does is nod once with finality before standing up and walking to the door, "Get up, eat something, and start shooting."

I groan, reaching for my hairbrush as the door shuts.

He's entrusting me with his food, now, huh? I'll have to go look at what he has in his cupboard, then.

After I've gotten dressed in winter clothes and drank some water, I look in his food cupboard. Quickly scanning over the various items, I see a few things that stick out to me. Honey, peanut butter, tea, and dark chocolate.

Since I just woke up, I'm really not that hungry, so I opt to just have a big spoon of peanut butter for some protein, some chocolate since I feel like it, and some tea because why not?

When I'm done and have brushed my teeth, I head outside, feeling the familiar cold air hit my face.

Vaughn's off to the side of the cabin, chopping firewood.

A few minutes later, and I'm ready to start shooting.

However, as soon as I lift the bow, my arm starts shaking slightly because of how sore it is.

I don't even try to pull back the bowstring because I don't want to accidentally dry fire.

"Uh, Vaughn?"

I glance over at him to see him split one last chunk of wood before he stands up, breathing harder than usual as he looks back at me. "Yes."

"My arms are too sore from shooting yesterday."

He nods his head slightly, lifting the ax he has in his right hand and hitting it into the base log he was using to chop wood on.

Then, he walks over and stands in front of me.

Taking the bow from my hands, he says, "You don't have to practice today."

Before I can answer, however, he continues on, avoiding eye contact: "I'm bringing Moose for a walk. You can come with if you want."

Then, he turns and starts walking toward the cave.

Well...guess I'm going on a walk, then.

After finding my hatchet, I quickly trail after Vaughn. Following his footsteps to the cave, I see him leaning against the entrance while petting the beloved Newfie.

As soon as they both see me, however, one runs up to me and starts licking my hand. The other just straightens and starts walking further into the woods.

After I give the dog a greeting in the form of a pat on the head, we follow after Vaughn.

We walk in silence through the forest, not seeing any wildlife whatsoever.

I notice Vaughn has his rifle just in case we come across anything that might be dangerous, though.

I jog to catch up to him, Moose right on my heels.

I don't say anything at first, but when I see a single raven fly overhead, I just have to try and get an answer.

"Can I ask you something?"

I almost expect to get a 'you just did,' comment, but instead, he doesn't say anything. Just glances to the side at me.

"I'm going to take that as a 'yes.' So...what exactly happens with the ravens?"

He tilts his head to the side slightly to look at me, "Nothing happens with them."

"Then why do they attack people like that at your every command?"

He furrows his eyebrows, "They don't. Is that really what you think?"

"Well, that's kind of how the people in the village made it seem. And, they did attack me, too, so."

He shakes his head, "They didn't attack you; they just swarmed you. They didn't try to peck out your eyes, as they did to some others who've come through here."

I cringe at the thought, "That's...nice."

"The ravens are just very mean and territorial. They attacked me when I first came out here. Every day that I worked on the cabin, they would sit in the trees and occasionally make small, persistent attacks at my eyes. Eventually, they got used to me, so they quit trying."

I stare at him wide-eyed, currently very creeped out with the local birds.

"So...they swarm every person that comes into the woods?"

He nods.

"So, how do you know when someone's shown up?"

"The birds are scattered all over. However, a few usually stay at the treeline at the edge of the lake. They call and signal each other, and if I notice multiple birds flying towards a certain direction, I usually go to see what it is."

"Huh...okay. Now, in the summertime, do you like canoe across the lake, or...?"

"That, or I just walk along the edge of it until I reach the trail. It's not that big of a lake."

I nod, starting to think of the village. I'm leaving tomorrow to stay there for basically a week.

I'm quite nervous about it if I'm honest.

Yes, the people that I've met so far have been welcoming and helpful, but what if someone has found out something by now? What if I'm walking right into a mob of untrusting villagers who throw pitchforks of accusations at me?

What if I don't return to the cabin?

I glance down in between Vaughn and me, where Moose prances alongside us happily.

"What's wrong?"

I glance up quickly, eyes meeting the back of his head.

He asks it in such a casual and nonchalant way, but he's actually quite attentive, it seems.

"Just thinking about tomorrow," I answer.

"Ah, yes. The trip to town."

I nod and then start to cringe as my awkward voice says, "Look, I know I've only known you two for five days, but if I don't come back, I want to say thank you for letting me stay with you. So...thank you."

Vaughn pauses, "Well, are you planning on getting apprehended?"

"Um, no, but unforeseen things do tend to happen out of nowhere, y'know."

He shakes his head, "Some can be avoided, though."

He stops walking, now, and I finally take a good look around me.

It's nothing too special, just a decent-sized circular field.

Vaughn finds a random stick lying around and twirls it around in front of Moose before he chucks it high into the air.

The dog immediately takes off after it, surprising me with the energy he has for his age.

"He loves to play, huh?"

"Always has."

We take turns throwing sticks for the dog, even play wrestling with him once and awhile. The dog practically drowns my coat in drool, but after the sweet and apologetic look I get right after, I can't be mad at all.

After he's played for a bit, we start to walk back, me rambling about how I never had a pet when I was younger. I'd always wanted a dog, but my parents kept putting it off, and my foster parents hated fur unless they were wearing it.

Vaughn listens to my monologue patiently, even commenting on something once in a while.

If anyone from years ago saw me talking this much, I'm sure they wouldn't believe it was really me.

But, to Vaughn, he must really think I love talking a lot.

It's strange, but I'm not going to say something like, 'I usually don't talk this much,' because, in all honesty, I've thought that to be a really cringe-y thing to say.

But maybe that's just me...who knows?

When we get back to the cabin, Vaughn asks me to feed the dog while he starts to make something to eat. After I do that, however, I immediately go inside to check the time, as it's getting dark out already.

4:00 p.m.

Wow...it doesn't feel like I've been up for very long, though.

Maybe only several hours?

"Wait..." I start, setting down my phone and turning to look at Vaughn. "When did you wake me up today?"

"Twelve."

My mouth drops open slightly, as I haven't really bothered to check what time I was being woken up.

I figured it was like, maybe 9 or something...But 12?

I've been up for four hours, and it's already getting dark...I can't help but feel like my internal clock is being toyed with.

After we eat, I once more volunteer to do the dishes, and Vaughn heads to the door.

Before he can go outside again, however, I ask him if I could take a sauna earlier tonight.

He doesn't say anything. He just opens up the door and walks back outside.

So, I don't really know what to assume.

I hope to get an early start tomorrow, so I'll have to set the alarm on my phone.

Otherwise...there's no telling if I'll be able to get up before noon, apparently.

Even though I haven't been getting to bed late, I somehow have the need to sleep late. I mean...I know that's a common sign of stress, but I don't really feel stressed, surprisingly.

But then I truly start to think about it and begin to wonder if there's something wrong with me.

My foster father sets the house on fire, leaving his wife trapped inside, he claims I'll be framed for it, I run away to Alaska, decide to find out what happened to my uncle, live with a stranger, and I don't feel stressed??

Holy crap, does that make me a psychopath?

Sitting down on my cot, I conclude that maybe I might be a high-functioning sociopath like Sherlock and start preparing my bag for tomorrow.

Basically, I have everything all in one place. I don't need to take anything out, really. I could use everything inside.

I pass the time reading on my phone until Vaughn comes back inside.

When I look up, he makes eye contact after glancing at what I'm doing and says, "Sauna's ready."

I set my phone down, "Oh, thanks!"

He nods and goes back outside.

Standing up, I determine that all in all, I quite like it out here.

Yes, there are wolves. Yes, there is a quiet man who I know nothing about. Yes, the things out here are limited.

However, it's exciting and challenging.

Besides, I do love an adventure.