All those years of running, weight lifting, and training to get on the varsity foot ball team years ago paid off for longer than you thought possible. You scoop the pregnant woman up onto your back and begin running across the field. The ogre is faster than you expected but you have a sixth sense as to where he is behind you and what he's about to do. You successfully dodge his grip and the desperate tackle near the fence. You may be strong and agile but you're aware that leaping gracefully over that wall isn't going to happen with your current load so you follow it to a gate, thoughtfully left open. You're now on the road and have to make a decision fast. So fast, in fact, you don't even give it a thought and run back into the tangled underbrush you were so relieved to leave earlier.

The plants and vines grab at your legs again but you simply tug them free until you're sure you're no longer being followed. Then exhaustion hits you and you drop the pregnant woman to the ground before collapsing next to her.

"Tank you," the woman says. Her speech is accented, European maybe. But the presence of the ogre convinces you you're pretty far from Europe or any other country you know of.

"Where am I?" you ask. The woman scowls and you remember the pseudo converstaion at the door; the woman doesn't speak English. You sigh, close your eyes, and let your shoulders slump.

"Gertrude," the woman says. You open your eyes again. "Gertrude," she repeats and points to herself.

"Kevin," you say, mimicking the gesture. She smiles but to quell the urge to try and talk more you close your eyes again.

"I'd walk another day or so before I rested in these woods. There's an ogre that's rather fond of people meat around here," Gerturde says. Your eyes snap back open but you see Gertrude looks just as shocked as you do. And she's not looking at you. Another woman walks calmly towards you. She's wearing a burgandy and black dress adorned with a leather knapsack and weighted down sword belt, you can just see the pommel from where you sit. A scarf is wrapped around her head but the rest of her hair is pulled in a braid that falls down her back. She young and cute, but suffers from resting bitch face. "And I wouldn't trust her, either," she says to you and points to Gertrude with a vague flick of her hand. "She gives him a hand in rounding up his long pork." She turns to the woman with a smile. "Yay zeet er dorsteeg," she says to the other woman who nods in response. The newcomer pulls a waterskin from her knapsack and tosses it to her. You look on enviously as the pregnant woman gulps the water before handing the skin back. "You?" asks the other woman.

"Please," you answer and she hands it to you next. You gulp the water, which tastes slightly sweet, like that fruit infused stuff the girls are always drinking, and drink more because of it. The skin is drained. "Sorry," you says as you hand it back. "I must have been thirsty."

"No problem." The skin is put back in her bag and the woman sits beside you but doesn't say a word. You side eye her but wait for her to speak. The silence drags on.

"Why warn me if..." you begin but she interrupts you with a shush. The silence resumes as you bite your lip.

"What are we..." Shh!






"Who are..." SHH! You open your mouth again but she interrupts before a word gets out.

"You can go," the woman says in an obviously annoyed voice. "I'm not waiting on you."

I can tell when I'm not wanted around

I want to see what she's waiting for.