(no subject)

[wildlittleminx]

She'd been wandering for days, the food in her bags nearly empty. Having overheard her stepfather making plans to bind her to that old goat-looking noble in Great Town had her plotting her revenge for hours that night. Not even a real wife, she was to be second-spouse, lower stature, practically a mistress. Almost a servant, but she wouldn't even have the protection a servant would have had. She wouldn't have been paid like a servant, wouldn't have had protection from his fists or his whip or his men like a servant would have. No she would have had to submit both her body to his rutting and all her worldly goods to his coffers without word or whisper of complaint. All because she was legally a spouse.

Second-spouse, my ass" She had muttered to herself, packing away her mother's jewelry, her heaviest cloak, and her sturdiest clothes and boots. An earring here, to a servant girl to look the other way as Lisabet snuck down the back stairs and out of the building. A brooch there to the boy who took care of the horses, as together they got her settled on her mother's filly, a fine black steed with white marks on her forelegs. She would have given another earring to the cook, but the food came free with a hug and a pinched cheek from the woman who had known Liz since she'd been a babe.

And then she'd ridden, deep in the night while her stepfather was away to the village with some of his men, enjoying the money her family had earned, the money her mother's inheritance had given him. Her poor mother, dead only six months. Was it childbirth, or was it his fists that had brought her low? Lizabet had been away when her mother died, and only now the rumors of her mother's death were truly coming to light.

Fortunately she'd found a brook to travel beside, so water wasn't an issue. And that's where she was, huddled on a rock next to her horse with the reins in her hand and dragging her waterskin to fill it up again, when she thought she heard a noise. Liz looked up warily at the think green forest around her, saw nothing, then looked again. Was someone there?

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[travellingmuses]

There were noises, of course there were. It was a forest, thick and old, and forests were always full of life; of the birds in the trees, of small animals in the underbrush. And, of large animals. And as more and more noises came it was clear that it was something large and heavy moving nearby.

Then the noises suddenly became wild, from hard feet on the ground and the enraged, squealing roar of a wild boar. There were branches cracking and bushes visibly rustling now, coming right towards the young woman there.

Then, in a slightly different direction there was something else. "Son of a-!" A rough man's voice, cutting off, and then booted feet hitting the ground hard, quickly drawing near.

[wildlittleminx]

She knew the sound of the wild boar, she'd been in enough hunting parties in her life. But never so close! And then, as wide-open as her eyes were over the sudden sound of the beast, they managed to open wider in fright at the sound of the man's voice as well. Hunters!

And she was on the wrong side of her horse, she would have to move to the other side to climb up onto the filly to be able to ride. Lizabet straightened up, reaching for the bridle with one hand and with the other softly petting the filly down the side of her face.

"Shh, Socks. Shhh, I'm going to move slow, shhhh, don't make a sound I'm just going to go under -ugh!" Her foot slipped on the wet rock, her body unbalanced, toppled into the knee-deep water. Soaked, her skirts were soaked. The wild boar sounded so close! The young woman stifled a whimper and tried to lift her leg up to the stirrup, managing to wrap it instead in the wet cloth.

No time to be quiet now, she had to get away!

[travellingmuses]

Then came the boar bursting through the underbrush. It was already bleeding from a cut on its shoulder and while the injury did nothing to cripple it, the pain of it had made it mad with fury. While the young woman and the horse had not been any initial threat they were there, creatures in its path, no matter the woman's own wishes and intentions. The boar charged.

But in the next second the hunter came through as well. He was a large man, easily somewhere around six-foot-three or more, long-legged and broad over the chest and shoulders, muscled in the way that can only come by heavy work and an active life. In his hands he carried a heavy spear with a broad, flat tip and a sturdy cross-guard. The sort of spear used to hunt boars.

His eyes did dart to the woman and the horse, widening in surprise, but whether by instinct or experience he didn't falter in his own charge. Coming in from an angle he brought his path to intersect that of the boars, bringing himself between it and the woman and her horse. His first strike had gone awry, back before the boar ran, but this time? This time it struck true, going in between shoulder and neck, the broad tip slicing open arteries and sinking deep into the beasts' chest.

[wildlittleminx]

The animal threw it's head back, nearly falling over backwards as the arterial spray fountained high and far. The beast's thrashing churned the water, causing a bloody foam on the top, and a spreading pool of crimson around the dying beast.

By now Lizabet had managed to make it onto the horse, sodden skirts and all. Grasping the reins tightly, she managed to keep her horse from bolting, allowing it to step back several paces and petting it's neck gently. She wanted to ride, to flee but the stranger wasn't dressed in the uniform of her stepfather's men. And she knew most of them on sight, he was a true stranger.

A true musclebound, handsome hunter.

"Are" Realizing that her voice trembled, the young noblewoman tried once more. "Are you hurt, lord?"

[travellingmuses]

"Lord?" It came as an amused scoff as he pulled his spear from the boar worth a wet, sucking sound. Did he look like some lord? His clothes were simple but sturdy, hair long and unruly, his skin tanned by near constant exposure to the sun and elements.

"And you? You alright?" He looked her over, taking in her ruffled appearance and soaked skirts. He wasn't at all familiar with finery, and though it was no ballgown she was wearing, he was sure, it's was likely finer than anything he'd seen before. At least in any way up close. "Lady," he added, because it was clear enough that she was one.

Looking around he half expected to see some entourage, because what would a woman of noble birth be doing way out there in the woods alone? But, there was no-one, no signs. What the hell? "You lost?"