It isn't! Since I came up with the prompts last night and my internet was down this morning, I had a little bit of time to work on my own entry. No, not even I can write a prompt response within five minutes. That'd just be crazy.
This is something a little different this week! I decided to play around a little with the characters and setting from a piece I was commissioned for in a fandom charity auction. It's an original piece: the basic idea was conceived by my buyer, the plot was hammered out between the two of us, and the characters are generally my creation. Hope you enjoy!
The prompt used was "into the woods."
***
Genevra had been feigning sleep for a few hours when the crying started. It was a young woman’s voice: loud, pitiful, insistent, and seemed to be only a few feet from her. Shrugging Solada’s arm off of her and pulling her robes tight around her shoulders, she sat up.
“Ignore it.” She heard Terese’s calm voice before she found her in the dark room, seated by the window and sharpening a spearhead. “You haven’t had the chance to sleep since you left the village, correct? So ignore it. It’s nothing.”
“If it’s nothing, then tell me what it is,” Genevra demanded. She tried to make the words authoritative, but they came out tremulous instead.
“Fair enough,” Terese said, her lips curving in the dim light. “They are trying to lure you outside. They think that the property of the gods will have compassion.”
Genevra tried not to shudder. “Well,” she snapped, “fortunately I’m not so gullible.”
“You certainly aren’t,” was all Terese said in reply.
When she just quietly went back to her work, Genevra finally couldn’t resist asking, “Are you sure they’re not coming in?”
“They won’t,” Terese said, looking out the window again. “Not into my house, they won’t.”
Genevra rolled her eyes. “Conceited of you, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps.” She rolled her shoulders with a barely audible crack. The soft sobs outside became younger, more like a child’s. “But you’ll have to trust in this arrogance of mine for now… it’s not as if you could do anything about them yourself.”
“Not now,” Genevra corrected, managing the haughtiness this time. “But that sort of thing would be easy for me, normally.”
“Would it?” Terese asked. “Shall I put you out, then? It would be the perfect way to bring them out of hiding. Every one of their corpses I bring in pays for a week’s worth of meals, you know.” When Genevra recoiled, she chuckled deep in her throat. “Relax. I’m good at my job, as long as you make good on your payment.”
“No one said anything about not paying,” she muttered, pulling her robes closer around her.
“… well.” Terese turned to face Genevra fully. “Even the gods’ servant is afraid of them.”
“I told you. They-” Genevra stopped abruptly as the crying voice outside swelled into a high, desperate shriek. For a long beat, the noises outside stopped, and Genevra held her breath to listen. Then, quietly, the crying began again.
When she felt brave enough to speak again, she asked, “They’re not going to stop?”
“This is what the edge of the woods looks like, Your Holiness.” Terese returned to her work. “Just be careful not to cross the border.”
