Valentina returned home in the nick of time, her grandmother emerging from her room at the same time the brunette was unpacking the basket of goodies. The crone grunted, her nose crinkling in disgust at the sight of her granddaughter, and said girl could feel the animosity radiating off of wrinkled skin. She made quick work, adding wood to the already burning fireplace and bringing a pot of water to a boil.

"You were almost late," the older woman hissed through clenched teeth. She made her way to her rocking chair, plopping down besides the fire and grabbing her tobacco filled pipe.

The brunette chopped at the vegetables and carried them to the pot, dropping them in. "I had trouble returning home."

A scoff filled the room. "Worthless fool. What good are you if you lose your way on a straight path."

It wasn't a question needing an answer, Val knew that. Whenever the old bat spoke of her, nothing pleasant came from her serpent mouth. She had learned to take it as lightly as possible, and when she was alone in her room, she would patch her wounds up as efficiently as she could. There were times when her fury had surpassed previous moments, and Valentina was forced to dodge flying objects. On the unlucky occasion that she hadn't moved quickly enough, she was forced to conceal the physical evidence. If anyone noticed it, she would disguise it as an accident, blaming her own clumsiness.

"I can find my way fine."

The air was thick with tension, and the hair on the back of the brunette's neck bristled. She regretted her uncontrollable tongue. She was foolish, as only an insufferable idiot would question the hag.

Without a response, the woman threw the ceramic pot that sat at her end table, filled with used tobacco. Val moved swiftly, abandoning the knife and wooden block and falling to her knees. The pot broke against the wall, scattering tobacco and shards across the wood floor. The young woman was about to stand up until another object whipped over her head. This time, it was a candle—glossy white, thick at the base, and lit.

Valentina was quick to act then, worried that the small flame on the wick would cause a fire. She used her leather soled shoe to stomp on the candle, smothering the remaining flame. When she was sure that it would not reignite itself, as some fires could, the brunette stood fully, locking her eyes with glossy, grey ones.

"God forsaken brat," she cursed with venom. "Clean that mess up and finish my dinner."

And with that, her grandmother resumed smoking her pipe, slightly rocking in her chair.

Valentina sighed quietly and made quick work of sweeping up the ceramic shards and dried tobacco, leaving the candle in the kitchen and out of reach. Her heart was still racing, but she had been grateful for her reflexes, knowing that if she had waited another second before ducking, the pot would have hit her. When the mess had been cleaned, she continued fixing dinner, chopping the rest of the vegetables. Grabbing the wood block, she cautiously walked over to the fireplace and scraped the vegetables into the pot of boiling water, returning to the kitchen for a slab of salted meat she had purchased yesterday. The thick knife sliced through the cow until there were four, thin strips. Each strip was rolled, a few types of herbs within them, and dropped into the pot to stew with the rest.

Busying herself with the clean-up process, Val moved around, making as little noise as possible.she checked the stew three times, and on the fourth, it was finished. She gathered two bowls, having placed a slice of bread on the bottom, and ladled the stew overtop, serving her grandmother first. They ate in silence. Once they were finished, Valentina collected the dishes and made quick work of cleaning them, putting them away before retiring to her bedroom.

The flimsy door shut behind her. She latched it and moved the dresser in front of it, never desiring to relive the last time she hadn't secured her door. Her hands found the hem of her dress, pulling it over her head and laying it on the dresser. Leather shoes followed, resting in front of her bed. The chilled air greeted her skin, her hair standing on ends. Left only in a plain, cream-colored chemise, the young woman looked out her window, leaning against the frame.

The trees were almost black, and the sky was the darkest shade of violet she had seen. It was peppered with stars, dimly lit in comparison to the moon, a small sliver of the usual sphere missing. The rain had stopped, but droplets still cling to the grass with only a few puddles lingering on the ground. Val's mind raced, but she forced it to calm, to pace itself as her heart had. The forest sated her nerves.

Nimble fingers caressed the glass, imagining the feeling of the saturated bark on the trees. "I cannot wait to leave."

Looking deep into the trees, Valentina noticed almost glowing eyes—eight in total—holding her gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, but she wasn't nervous. She had encountered the wolves before. They hadn't bothered her, they simply paused and went on their way. Similarly so, no one in the village had reported of any attacks. It was presumed that they were docile, or never took any interest in the people they cohabited with. Soft lips curled into a subtle smile before turning away and curling into bed, sleep claiming Val quickly.

Green eyes flung open, a gasp stuck her chest. Her grandmother's eyes met hers, emotionless and burning with rage. Strong hands clung to her throat, restricting all airflow. The brunette clawed at those hands, digging her nails in and ripping flesh. Her body thrashed, desperate and needing air. Tears began collecting in her eyes. Her throat burned and her chest was collapsing.

"Please."

It was a strangled cry, the last hope she had, but it fell on deaf ears, and before her heart could stop, the old woman grinned, crooked teeth flashing at her.

Valentina shot up from bed gasping, sweat clinging on her skin. Her eyes flicked everywhere: the foot of the bed, the latched door, the dresser still in front of it, the empty window. The rapid beating of her heart paced itself slowly. Soft hands reached up to her neck, examining the area.

"Another night-terror."

Her voice was raspy, having relived her worst experience with her grandmother. It was the last night in which she had left her door unlatched. The old crone had snuck in and strangled the girl, angry with her. Val had been late that day, and neglected to gather more wood for the fire, meaning they had no method of preparing a hot meal for dinner. Instead of bursting into a rage then, the woman remained silent, stewing in her anger. The brunette was sure she would die, until her grandmother had released her, walking out of the room without a word. Valentina did not fall asleep afterwards.

The morning after was uncomfortable. Valentina awoke earlier than usual and left, finding enough wood to hold the woman off until she returned home from the bakery. She started the fire and left out a piece of fruit and a fresh knot of baked dough for her grandmother, rushing out of the house and to the bakery for her shift. Never again had she forgotten to restock their wood pile, nor had she been late.

Bare feet padded on the cool, wood floor until she was in front of her window once again. The sun had yet to show, but the once dark sky was blurring to blue. Val sighed, knowing that she was up too early, but too late for her to go back to sleep. There was also no sign of the four wolves she had seen prior, which was neither her nor there. So she walked away and dressed, moving the dresser, unlatching her door, and heading to the kitchen area. Instinct fueled her movements as she scurried around—lighting the fire, readying breakfast, and hurrying along to the bakery for her shift.

Her journey to the bakery was uneventful, as usual. The sun was just barely peeking into the sky. Dew covered the grass. Spring hung in the air tantalizingly. Valentina could not wait for the freshness that the season brought.

Nimble fingers unlocked the bakery and began their work--kneading and baking the dough. When the warm, array of breads were ready, she set them on their respected displays and opened the doors. Bright, invigorating rays of sunlight seeped through the door and windows. Vale welcomed it, inhaling the scent of the lazy village and quiet morning before moving behind the counter. She waited for the onslaught of villagers to enter, drawn out of their homes by the intoxicating aroma of freshly baked goods, and sure enough, they did. Valentina made small talk with them, inquiring about their respected businesses, children, and any village gossip, of which there was much.

The brunette didn't care for the gossip, it was of no concern for her, but she cared for the contact. The topics of conversation was absolutely unbearable, yet she begged that it would not end. Of course, it always did, and Val felt as if it were too short. She continued to chat with the customers, primarily women as she was uncomfortable talking to most of the men in the village.

The exception to that was a man called Peter; a sweet-faced guy with strong cheeks, curly, red hair, and chocolate eyes. He was a young man, kind and soft spoken, yet easily excited. His only reason for visiting the bakery was Valentina, and she was well aware, as was the village. It had spread that the young man fancied Val, but hadn't the nerve to formally ask her for her time or her hand. It felt uncomfortable to the brunette, that the man liked her, yet said nothing. She would have liked to get to know him, to befriend him, but she did not find herself attracted to him as a possible husband. Certainly he was handsome, and his personality was simply charming, but something was missing, and Valentina could not place what it was.

The bell above the door chimed. Peter made his appearance dressed in beige trousers and a white tunic. His hair was unruly with spiraled strands of red while a wide display of white teeth were pulled into a smile. Dark eyes glittered with excitement as he approached Val.

"Hello Val," he greeted, his tone friendly and respectful.

She responded, leaning her elbows on the counter. "Hello Peter, how are you?"

"Wonderful!" the man exclaimed, his smile impossibly wide. "This morning was so lovely--I rose early and decided a walk through the woods would be delightful, and on my journey, I saw the most astounding sight. A doe was grazing with her fawn in a nearby meadow. I tried to get a better look at them, but I stepped in a rabbit hole and tripped, and when I stood back up, they were gone."

Valentina could not help but become excited as well. It was a common thing to witness, but Peter's joyous attitude was contagious.

"I know this entire village has seen deer before," he continued, shoving his hands in his pockets. "but it was beautiful."

The brunette nodded, a smile now on her lips. "I'm sure it was." She almost didn't add the next part, but felt it necessary to contribute more to their conversation. "I noticed four wolves in the forest last night. I could see their eyes form my window."

Brown eyes widened. Peter's jaw dropped. He slammed his hands on the counter, leaning closer to the woman. "What were they like? I hadn't seen one ever."

She shrugged. "It was very dark, but I know it was them. Though, I have encountered one during dusk."

He urged her to continue, and Val obliged. "It was magnificent. It was tall, at least as high as my thighs, and covered in glossy, grey fur, like silver. It's eyes were golden, speckled with chestnut brown. It looked in my direction and held my gaze before going on it's way."

Peter was noticeable astonished. "That is absolutely incredible!"

Valentina agreed, and they continued their small talk until the ginger had to leave and the brunette had to get back to work. She sold the rest of the baked goods and went about cleaning, knowing she had another shift come morning.