Rapidly Isaac turned to the voice; it sounded familiar to him… “Sara? Sara! You’re safe!” he exclaimed. She was one of the few people his age in town; on the cusp of adulthood, yet not quite recognized as such yet. Her brothers, though younger, were also some of his greatest friends. “Is anyone with you?” With a start, he cast his gaze about, searching for anyone- or anything- that might have heard him.

“Not here, inside, quickly,” Sara hissed, beckoning him inside- in fact, her hand was the only part of her that ever left the shadow of the doorframe.

Perhaps brighter, more observant men might have been suspicious of a figure that was almost totally concealed. Isaac, however, was not- he merely walked through the door. As his eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting, Sara lightly shut the door, dimming it even further. “It’s still not safe here, c’mon,” she muttered. Lightly she kicked back a thick rug, a full bear pelt, revealing a trapdoor. “Root cellar. We can talk there,” she murmured, carefully opening the trapdoor.

Isaac may not have been the smartest of men; he may not have been the most observant. Even so, or rather due to those traits, he still obediently entered the cellar. Sara fiddled with the trapdoor a bit, trying to get the rug back in place to hide the cellar entrance. Once she was satisfied, she lowered the hatch, casting them in pitch black darkness- at least, until she struck a match. “There’s a lantern on the table down here, did you see it?” she asked, in a more normal tone of voice, instead of her former rasping whisper.

“Yeah, I have it,” Isaac replied. In truth, he was already grabbing the lantern while she was closing the trapdoor; it was fairly obvious that it was the only possible source of light. “I’m going to grab the match from you, I can feel the wick,” he added. A few moments later their surroundings were drenched in light- as were they. The room was a simple affair; against two walls were rows of barrels, another was lined with shelves full of jars, while the fourth held various baskets of produce- potatoes, carrots, and similar. “That’s better. Now, do you have any clue what is going on?” he asked, staring intently into Sara’s green eyes.

“Nothing,” she sighed whilst sitting at the table, twirling a few strands of her long, blond hair. “All I know is I fell asleep down here last night, after I brought our leftovers from dinner down here,” she nodded towards a plate covered with a cloth rag. “When I woke up, the cellar door was closed- I came upstairs, and everyone was gone. Mother, father, both of my brothers,” Sera’s voice hitched, her eyes tearing up. “I… I didn’t pay much attention at first, thinking they might have gone out since the snows ended, but after an hour or two, I realized there was no one outside, at all. I… I checked a few houses, and there was nothing.” Her voice cracked. “I just didn’t know what to do…” she sobbed.

“Hey, hey there…” Isaac said awkwardly. “I wish I could tell you that everything’s going to be alright, but I can’t.” Sara let out a labored laugh. “The simple fact is, right now we need to focus on keeping ourselves safe, we really don’t have time to pity ourselves.” Sara nodded slightly, tears yet running down her cheeks. “Now, listen up, there’s a lot of things to say and not much time.” With that, Isaac related to her the events of his day, what he had seen throughout town.

“Alright, so we’ll stay the night here, then head out tomorrow. We’re decided, then?” Isaac queried. Ilios had already been dropping when Sara called to him; trying to find their way in the darkness would have been near suicide.

“Yeah,” Sara responded. “I just need to grab a few things to prepare.”

“Alright then. Do you know where your father’s hunting bow is? We’ll likely need to hunt as well once we leave.”

“Why hunt? Don’t you see how much food there is down here?” Sara gestured to the literal shelves of food behind her.

“Yes… here. We won’t be able to take all of it with us. There’s only so much room in packs, and besides, the jars add too much weight,” Isaac said while shaking his head.

“Doesn’t your uncle have a horse and cart?” Sara asked, tilting her head.

Isaac was silent for a moment. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…” he muttered to himself. “Myself, not you. How did I not think of that?” Smacking himself on the head, he continued in a more normal tone. “Yes, yes he does… did. Assuming they didn’t take Pixie, too,” Pixie being the old mare that his uncle owned. “I’m not holding out hope, though… I’ll go to the stables and check what’s left there in the morning. Do you want to stick to the original plan, or come with me?”

Sara gave Isaac an odd look. “You were right when you called yourself stupid earlier, stupid. As if I’m going to be left alone again!” On that note, she opened the cellar, grabbed a rucksack and started packing.

“Are you sure you have what you need?” Isaac asked. The night before, Sara had finished packing remarkably quickly- he presumed it had been due to fear of being found. As far as he had seen, she merely threw a few articles of clothing into a bag, along with a rope, matches, and other such small supplies. Furthermore, she belted a long dagger to her waist, in easy reach if anything went wrong. Isaac, on the other hand, now carried her father’s bow; it wasn’t much, merely being for hunting small game, perhaps the odd elk or two if the hunter was lucky, but it at least gave him options. “We’ll probably not come back; my uncle should have any general supplies we need.”

“I’m sure,” Sara replied. “Let’s go now, hopefully before whoever you saw comes back.”

The stables were a ramshackle affair; they were positioned on the extreme edge of town, away from any houses, in order to keep the stench of manure away. The building itself was in shambles, due to lack of any upkeep- the only animal even in it, unless the town had some kind of visitor, was Pixie. After all, the frozen tundra was hardly hospitable to draft animals. As it was, Gregor had to buy grain simply to feed Pixie- grass hardly ever had the time to grow between the snows.

As Isaac and Sara approached the stables, Isaac felt a growing sense of unease- his neck started prickling, making him feel like someone was watching. “Careful,” he said quietly. “Bad feeling.” As he approached the door, he gave a glance about- seeing nothing. Drawing his sword from its sheathe, he grasped the door handle, and flung it wide. After a cursory glance, he sheathed the blade. “It’s fine. Just Pixie, though she’s a hungry one now. She hasn’t been fed in two days.” Isaac poured some grain out of a sack for the mare, then groomed her while she ate. Once she was finished eating, he spoke. “Alright, the wagon’s outside, but the tack is in here. I’ll get her straightened out, it should only take a few minutes unless something’s broken.” Sure enough, he soon led a fully geared carthorse out of the stables.

The horse was hitched up to the wagon without issue, yet Isaac still felt a prickling sensation. There has to be someone watching. Maybe the archer, from before? I never did see him… Still, though, whoever it is seems to be happy enough just watching. Just have to keep an eye out… “C’mon, hop up,” he told Sara nervously. “We need to be out of here as fast as possible.”