Thread: Perils of the Deep Hallow

This was probably his first time really being alone, well at least apart from his sister. But it wasn’t by choice. The siblings managed to get separated during a landslide that was brought on by a giant. As soon as his fists smashed into the mountain wall, the duo knew their fates would split and they would be on their own. Greta, his sister, bailed to the left, while he, Hans, rolled to the right.

His direction brought him down a path that was oddly smooth. It probably helped that the night before the ground was misted with white flecks known as snow. The fresh covering was still there and it was enough to really ease him into a good flee. As his body shot down the path, he squirmed left and right to dodge a rock or tree every now and again. The longer he stayed like this, the faster he went. Soon, he realized he would need to brace himself or go soaring off the mountain’s edge.

It was by sheer luck alone that he grabbed ahold of a jutting root, which just so happened to be attacked to the burliest pine he had ever seen. As his muscle tore at the sudden snapping halt, he clenched his teeth before painfully pushing himself up right.

Eyes scanning up the path, his lips pursed into a look of awe. He had come a long way and those green eyes of his knew there was no going back up the path from which he came. His gloved hand reached for his scalp, allowing him to itch and ponder his next action. With squinted eyes and hope in his heart, he made out what looked like a small town down yonder. Now, getting there would be a long two-day walk. This, naturally, caused him to moan in disapproval. Oh how he hated his luck already.

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By the end of that night, Hans had made it halfway to his destination. Sadly, his aching body prevented him from taking another step further. Not to mention, it was unsafe to travel alone at night in a forest unbeknownst to you. Biting his lip, the brunette began his hunt for a shelter of sorts.

Rule number one to surviving alone in the woods. Always find shelter. And never have a rip-roaring fire.

The less out in the open he was, the harder it would be for a witch (or anything for that matter) to smell him. And an open, licking flame would surely attract unwanted attention. If he wanted to make it through the night, he would need to get some coals and embers going and never let the red glow get past its smoldering stage.

It must have been his lucky day for he was overjoyed when he came across what looked like a hunter’s cabin. It was a small, one-person hunting stand but it would certainly be enough to keep him safe and warm. Approaching with caution, the male loaded up his weapon (a revolving shotgun to be exact) and gingerly kept up to the building. Three windows looked in every direction, except for the side the door was on. Both hands on the gun to steady it, he soon realized a gun would be a poor choice. It would echo in the dimming light, alerting all to his presence. Slipping the weapon across his back, he tugged out a small hunter’s knight. It wouldn’t be as easy but it would be stealthy, which was what he needed.

Three, two, one… he kicked in the door and had his blade pinned right beneath the neck of the person he heard sleeping within. As his eyes narrowed to help him hone in on the kill, he found himself looking into an all too familiar set of eyes. Not to mention, the swan that pecked at his ear and squawked at his intrusion were another dead giveaway as to who Hansel had stumbled upon. Perplexed yet thankful, the green eyed male parted his lips and called out her name.

“Odette.”

It had been some time since Odette bid farewell to the last and only visitor she had to her home in many years, but with Hans gone it left the woman to her own devises in her potion making once again. Sitting on the floor facin the fire the burned wildly in the fireplace the woman had a mess of vials, ancient writings, plants and other various items scattered across her floor. Off to one side of the room she had a beaker sitting over a small flame, the blue fluids inside bubbling very slighting and over other various places on the floor she had mortals and pestals mashing up plant mixtures on their own as she read from the ancient text before her.

The wind was howling, threatening the woman's home with a storm that it was trying to bring in. The lack of concern from the plump bird that sat near one of the windows told Odette that should the storm actually hit, the snow wasn't going to be trapping them inside like it had a few weeks prior. One of the bubbling beakers began boiling which set off a whistle at the top, reaching over, Odette turned a handle on a tube that let the clear fluid flow from that beaker and drip into another that was without a flame. Other conconsions seemed ready to be tended to and with the woman busy tending to her experiments, a rather plump swan was staring out into the distance through the window he sat at.

There was something approaching the house; the figure was armed and that puffed the bird up quickly. Honk wipped his long neck around to look at the woman that was frantically trying to keep up with the overwhelming number of vials and beakers she had spread across the floor. She would be of no use, as usual, with an intruder. The bird quickly waddled over to the door, his wings spread to help keep balance as the usual speed he was walking at. When he peeked back towards the woman, he found her peacefully sleeping on the floor, the mess spread across the floor seeming contained and as safe as such a mess could be. Yet, how she could fall asleep so fast in the middle of work not only puzzled the bird, but scared her.

Moments later, the door was kicked in, the dark figured that had been approachign the house finally entering. Honk went of the offensive squaking at the intruder while flapping his wings to peck at various parts of this body. The voice that soon followed calmed the bird after a few moments, pausing his relentless attack to see a familiar male, though not all the pleased that he had returned, he was no threat to him or Odette.

It wasn't so much Honk's attack that woke the woman, but the voice that seemed to break through the sound of the bird and called her name. Blinking a few times, Odette rolled over slightly, her eyes crossing at a blade that was held on her neck before following it up to a pair of happy looking eyes. "Hans?" She questioned groggily as she remained still, the coolness of the blade reminding her how close it was to her.