She Hid In the Woods [Open]

[Heidi]

Country: Wales, United Kingdom
Area/Setting: The forests around Beddgelert, nestled in several mountains and in strips and patches weaving around the area's fields. A photo, taken from one of the mountaintops, can be seen here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Beddgelert_from_Mynydd_Sygun.jpg

Current Time: Sometime in the morning.
Weather Conditions: Misty, rainy, threatening to drizzle. A cool breeze wafts over the Welsh landscape.

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It had been two days so far.

She shivered in the rain and cold, curled up amongst the rocks and rich moss, her hand still on that knife. She had exiled herself to the forests, running for her life that night. She hadn't turned back once, only going deeper and deeper into the dark, tangled undergrowth. The terrain grew rocky, the landscape grew tall, and Adelheid pushed on with no food and only water she had squeezed off of leaves and moss. (Not the best-tasting thing, and her stomach was starting to hurt from it, but it was better than nothing.)

Again, she was all alone. Little Adelheid had again gone to wander, to seek some sort of place to belong, to seek comfort and acceptance. After she had hurt those boys with her stolen knife, she knew the Not-Nazis would be displeased. They would try and take her away from her Rhys-angel's parents, but she couldn't have that now. They had been nice, somewhat understanding of her. But in her heart, she only had the same doubt as she did before.

Adelheid wasn't sure what to do next. She would have to eat soon, and find a better source of water. Hiking up hills and across outcroppings was exhausting, and she wasn't in the best health as it was. It was getting to the point where she could barely keep her eyes open, and she had been sleeping more and more, trying to conserve her strength. The wet weather was not helping, soggy winds and falling rain soaking her to the bone, the girl shivering and trying to find decent shelter. There was some light at the end of the tunnel, some way she could figure out what she was looking for.

And then, she saw it - "it" being a pair of glinting, hungry eyes in the woods. Adelheid stopped, blinking wearily and rubbing at her eyes to try and get some sleep out of them. The silhouette of something canine stood, a long, low growl uttered from behind the bushes. The girl's skin was covered in icy pinpricks, and not just from the rain - dogs and her were not on good terms. Other than the playful Luger of Herr Otto's household, more than once had wild dogs chased at her, snapped at her, barked and snarled and generally be intimidating. She took a step back, gulping, breath hitching.

The dog licked its lips, letting out another growl. Slowly, methodically, it crawled out of the bushes, revealing itself to be a sleek, black-and-white sheepdog, shaggy and with a tangled coat. It was feral, perhaps abandoned or perhaps an escape. Wherever it had originated, the only thing that mattered was that it looked hungry, and that it was eyeing Adelheid like a piece of food. There had been, after all, reports of wild dogs having a taste for the long pork, children vulnerable to being seen as prey with their weakness and screaming. The creature leaned down, as if to spring.

Adelheid might have stood still had she not been so scared. But, she was, and took off faster than a deer at a gunshot. The dog sprang after her, giving a vicious snarl as rocks and grass fell from both of their feet.

[Mac Bargett]

Staff Sergeant Bargett waved to the farmer and his wife as he drove away from their little cottage and onto the main road. Although the jeep served no protection to the mist that chilled his face and dampened his uniform, Mac couldn’t help but smile. The Parry farm was the last one on his list, and now he was headed back to base. He checked his watch, and did the math, it would probably take an hour or so, but it was still early enough that he should get there long before the mess hall filled for lunch. His lips moistened at the thought of today’s special treat.

Either the Lord Almighty considered that lust, or Mac should have just kept his eyes on the soggy dirt road, cause when the loaded down jeep suddenly hit a hidden sinkhole, one of the crates fell out the back and smashed onto the road. Mac quietly gave a “Nuts” under his breath and parked the jeep. Like a fresh armored car driver guarding a shipment of gold, Mac was protective over his cargo, and he grabbed his M1 out of his holster and glanced around the surrounding forest fields for anything suspicious before climbing out and inspecting the damage.

It wasn’t that bad, the muddy ground had softened the blow, but a few planks in the lid had snapped, and the overturned crate had spilled it’s load of onions. Cleaning them off as best he could, Mac checked that none were badly bruised, and he placed them back into their container and lifted it back into the jeep.

But, as he was securing the canvas tarp over his carp again, he heard a noise. Just a low burp that lasted half a moment. It was a strange sound, and even in his head, each time he tried to remember it, it sounded different. Although he had no reason to, and was unsure why he was doing it himself, Mac investigated.

After entering the woods around the road, and climbing the slippery slope of a hill, rifle outreached, Mac found the source of the noise. A old sickly dog running through the brush, chasing an even sicker looking child. Mac quickly began to shout at the animal, more growls and shouts then actual words, although phrases like ”Hey” and ”Bad dog” did slip from his lips. Instinctively, he raised his rifle to his shoulder, but he knew that even though the wild dog was only a few yards away, an easy shot, he could not risk a bullet hitting the child, either directly or by ricochet. He had to figure out something else.

Quickly reaching into his pack, Mac pulled out a large metal cylinder. With his right hand busy holding the rifle, he had to use his teeth to biet it’s tab and pulled it off, before tossing the rest at the feral dog.

It yipped as it jumped out of the way, and it’s attention quickly switched from the child to the foreign object.

As the animal sniffed at it, licked it, and even tried to bit into it, Mac lowered his gun, it looked like the child was safe now. The dog seemed to like pork hash a lot more then he did.

Carefully keeping his eyes on the excited dog, Mac moved over to the child. When he did look at the kid, a poor looking girl who probably hadn’t eaten in weeks, his mind was hit with a memory.

”Anaheim?”

[Heidi]

She tripped on the hem of the skirt, falling onto her face and sliding down just as Mac intervened. The dog looked ready to tackle her, eyes focused like a hawk's, but quickly ducked out of the way as something long and silvery was tossed at it. The scent of pork on its nose, it quickly chased after the delicious food, busying itself with filling its stomach with delicious, warm pork hash. Indeed, the dog seemed to enjoy the meal much more than Mac ever would.

Adelheid, meanwhile, was spitting out dirt and grime, standing up and brushing herself off. She had scratched her arms a little, but otherwise, she was unharmed. She sounded winded, though, and one little arm was clutched around her stomach, a dull ache forming from an old injury. Panting, Adelheid sniffed, feeling ready to cry again out of tiredness and frustration.

"Anaheim?"

Adelheid looked up, and was immediately hit with recognition. She felt a surge of anger well up, but then, it fluttered back down again, into a strange mix of relief and frustration. The child began to sniff once, then twice, and then, she let out a shaky breath. Despite having left her behind again like her Onkel Stephen had, she couldn't help but run forward with tears in her eyes.

"Onkel Mac!"

With that, she ran into Mac, hugging him fiercely, crying hard as she buried her face in his clothes. She didn't want to let go for a second, and all she wanted to do was go home...wherever that was.