Silence fills the darkness again, my heart pounds loudly in my ears while I await the unknown. A cool breeze pushes into the wagon, Wilfrid climbs in, the cloth crumpled to the side in his hand. The light behind him flickers onto my face, and he pauses. Confusion flashes onto his features as he registers my expression of fear.

With a sigh of exhaustion, he drops the cloth. "Ready?" I just nod quickly, hoping to avoid any more danger. Ignoring the thoughts going through his mind, he settles down across from me.

The wagon pulls forward, and we sit in exhausted silence. The small bits of light that fight to come into our box slowly fade to nothing. Complete darkness surrounds us, and his heavy breaths are my only inkling that he is there.

"Can we remove the cloth?" I call through the darkness.

Wilfrid lightly chuckles, "No need to yell, I'm right here."

"Oh," I whisper.

Cloth flaps with sound under each bounce of the wagon, but it remains hung across the exit. Small bits of hope for some type of nature scratch in the back of my brain. Nature is the only thing left of my life that is familiar, and now I crave it. The sounds and darkness begin eating at me. "Please," I whine anxiously.

"Sorry, Chloe, no can do," his voice hums with indifference.

A more awkward silence hangs between us, the rattling of the wagon our only source of consistent noise. My anxiety twists like a dull itch, and I yawn in exhaustion. The nightmares begin to stir in the back of my mind, waiting for my slumber and I snap my eyes wide open.

"Just tear it down!"

"Chloe, it's not a good idea," Wilfrid sighs.

"Why!" my cries shatter my voice, they echo against the wood.

A flame sparks, and I gasp. A warm glow flickers to life inside a lantern. Shadows fill the wagon, moving with each flick of flame. The light reflects onto Wilfrid's face, his eyes flash towards me, and a small smile creeps into his lips. A sudden calm flows over me, my mind crumbles into a daze.

"My little sister, Anne, had nightmares," a softness trickles into his voice, "she was afraid of the dark."

Turning my head away from him confidently. My teeth clench as they take in the dark corners. "I'm not afraid," I hiss under my breath. The darkness of the wagon leave nothing for my sight again, and I shiver. Anxiously I shift my gaze back to the safety of the flare.

He snorts, knowing I'm bluffing. His glances towards me, before sealing up the flame inside the lantern. "You look like her."

"Because I'm covered in mud?" I try to make a joke.

"No, your hair. I couldn't get her to roll in the dirt with us like you tend to do," he smirks twisting my actions.  

Taking a good look at the golden kissed locks of hair framing his jaw bone, I question my own hair colour. Grabbing it in my hands, I fiddle with the dark strands. If he is blonde how is his sister brunette? Crossing my arms, I lean back confident of his lies.

"I'm sure there are many girls with my colour of hair."

Wilfrid takes out an arrow and twirls it around absentmindedly between his fingers. "Yes, you're right. A lot of girls look like you, but none of them have those green eyes," he focuses solely on the arrow.

He doesn't seem well, there is a darkness thickening the air between us. It leaks from him in waves.

"Wilfrid?"

The arrow freezes in motion, Wilfrid grips the shaft into a fist and leans forward focusing on me. "No one's going to hurt you, but unfortunately the King has made many offers regarding your return. There are still scouts out there looking for you, hoping to reap the rewards, with any one of your likenesses."

"Would they tie me up?" I counter.

"Worse," he pauses, and we stare at each other for a hard moment, "Unlike other groups, we aren't idiots. Don't worry, your safe with us no matters how we treat you."

My heart pumps and my breathing becomes laboured. They are mercenaries, and I'm supposed to just trust them? I'm just a victim to ransom off to the King. Looking at the drape, I try to regain my breath. "This is why the cloth can't come off?"

"Exactly," he smirks, "don't worry. You're one of us now, remember?"

The wolf meat, their ritual. Of course, he would make this joke again.

I roll my eyes, "You think you're so funny."

We fall silent, Wilfrid tapping his foot on the floor to an unknown rhythm. I zone out listening to the sounds, my only way to stay connected to this world.

~Well that's who Anne is, anyone curious what happened to her or already has figured it out? Leave a comment! ~