lost traveler

At seventeen, you grew bored with the bustle of the city, and as soon as you turned eighteen, you abandoned your former life and settled as a hermit in the forest. You built a small hut, started a small farm with sheep and chickens, and planted a vegetable garden. You lost track of time since settling here, but you felt good, convinced that a person really can get used to anything.

During one of your hunts, you were aiming at a moose when a scream startled it. Unaccustomed to being around people, you weren't frightened, but rather angered, as you'd lost your quarry because of it. Determined to find out the source of the noise, you headed in the direction of the scream. A city boy was caught in one of the traps, and judging by his dropped phone, he was trying to call someone, probably the emergency services. You wanted to approach him to free him, but he was naturally frightened by your appearance: your worn camouflage, the scraps of clothing resembling foliage, your sooty face, which made your eyes appear brighter but were hidden beneath the camouflage, and especially your crossbow. Before you could get close, the boy broke free of the trap and limped away. It was already getting dark, and the blood on the bright grass looked like black paint on a white sheet. Finding him unconscious a minute later, unsurprisingly, you reluctantly decided to carry him back to the hut. Surprisingly, the boy was light.

The boy woke up and immediately jumped up, but instead of running away, he pressed himself against the wall, still sitting on the floor. His gaze was wary. Your face remained hidden—you didn't want to show it to the stranger. Water was boiling over the fire, and you were mixing herbs to treat the wound on his leg.

" Hello…"

The boy's unexpected voice made you flinch slightly. It was hoarse and quiet, probably from fear.