Chapter Four: Mercy.

Chapter Four.

Mercy.

He didn’t come to send me out of his room anymore, and my wounds were healing. I frowned as I looked at the gashes, knowing that if this had happened to Marcy, then she would have probably healed by now, and that was one of the things that made us so different from each other.

I was just waking up, and the sun was bright out in the sky, bathing the room in a new light. I could see just how pretty it was, unlike with the candles, and it made me much more comfortable to note that the ghost that I saw last night was nothing but an art piece hung up in a strange way. I looked around, my thoughts running every which way.

Just where did I think I was going to exactly? I was running away from home, yes, but nothing had been planned out.

Just then, the door opened, revealing the master.

“Finally, you are awake. Marion had come in to check on you so many times, but you were flat out cold. Very bad for a werewolf.” The master said, and I nodded.

“I’m sorry, I guess I was tired.” I said, expecting him to say something about me still being in his sister’s room, but he did none of the sort.

Instead, he walked up to me and checked my arms and legs.

“Your wounds are healing up quite quickly. It’s a good thing. All you need now is some more rest.” He started to turn away when I held his hand.

He looked back at me with a frown on his face.

“What was that for?” He asked, and I shook my head.

“I’m so sorry. Please, I don’t want to rest anymore. Let me come out.” I said. The master looked at me with a frown and snatched his hand out of my hold.

“You are not a prisoner here, so as long as you can do one or two things, then yes. Don’t go into my room, though.” He started to walk away and I got up with excitement to follow him out.

“Your breakfast has been ready for a while.” His voice was gentler now.

“And yours?”

He scoffed. “I’ve eaten, I woke up early. Yours would be covered on the table, I’ll take you there.”

Breakfast was a hearty meal of eggs and meat with some bread, and I was convinced that that food would last me the entire day, because who eats more than that?

The master sat still and watched me eat, and I was a bit uncomfortable under his gaze, wondering why I had to have his concentration on me. It wasn’t like I was going to steal from him.

“You don’t eat well.” He said as I was drinking water. I almost spat it out.

“What?”

“You’re not used to eating good food where you come from. Why?”

That was so direct, and I don’t know why it felt like an attack to me.

“I used to eat good.” I told him.

“You started to wolf down your food at first, but then you slowed down within the first few bites. Shows that you enjoyed the food, but not enough to finish it up as quickly as you wanted to.” The master said, not taking his eyes off of me.

“I don’t really like to eat much. And I’m a picky eater.” I said. The master looked like he wanted to say more, but then he nodded and let me be.

“Thank you for the food, it was delicious.” I said, and he responded with a nod before getting up.

“I have to go to work now.”

“Can I come with you? What do you do?” I was following him without waiting for his reply.

“Wood. I chop wood and make things out of it.” He walked out of the house, and I took my time to study the surroundings.

The place was fairly big for two people living in it, and there seemed to be no signs of any other people. No other buildings.

The master walked out of a small shed with a new shirt and shorts on him and with some tools. He threw an axe to me and I caught it clumsily.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer me, just went on into the forest and stopped next to a large tree and tapped it twice.

“I have discovered the secret to trees like this.” He said, looking at me like I should understand. “In less than five years, this tree would be back, this tall and strong. Makes good quality wood too.”

I nodded. “That sounds exciting.”

He shook his head.

“Of course you don’t know wood, just go on and take a seat around there.” He pointed at some tree stumps. “This would take a while.”

The master spent some time and ended up felling two trees and cutting them up into large chunks. Then he came to sit next to me, giving me a bottle of water from his bag.

“So, what were you doing in the forest with that bag? Are you a traveler?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I like going around, visiting places.”

“For a traveler, you have very poor survival instincts. For a non human, even.” He eyed me warily.

“What’s your name?” I asked, and he shrugged.

“John. That’s it.” He said and I nodded.

“John. What pack is this?” I asked, and John looked at me for a long few seconds before turning away.

“I should be asking you. Aren’t you the traveler?” He asked, and I shrugged.

“Yeah.” There was a long pause. “What happened to your sister? Is she still alive?”

“That was very blunt. Straight forward.” John said, but he didn’t bother to give me a reply.

I guessed his sister was a sensitive subject, and I had done the wrong thing by bringing her up.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked about her.”

He got up, groaning. “These babies will be left here to season and I’ll come back to get them next time. But we will be taking these branches home for our own use.”

I nodded.

It seemed like I had disrupted the comfortable mood that we had once been in, and I wanted to kick myself for that. I watched John tie up the branches in five before he dusted his palms and turned to me.

“Can you carry two?” He asked, and I nodded. He had lifted them fairly easily, so I should be able to lift them too.

The house wasn’t that far.

“Yes, I can.” I said, stretching out my arms and he placed the first bunch on me.

It was heavier than I thought, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself any further by complaining. I had already asked annoying questions, and John most likely thought that with my lack of a backstory, I was a thief. Skeptical, John looked at me.

“Are you sure you can take another one?” He asked.

“Yes, bring it on.” I nodded, trying not to show that breathing was getting difficult for me.

We carried the branches back to the house, and I kept on staggering and using all my willpower to keep myself and the wood up until we got to the compound, where I couldn’t take it anymore.

Dropping it all, I collapsed, my chest heaving.

John stopped next to me and looked down with a frown, as if he felt nothing but pity.

“You lasted longer with those than I thought you would.” He stated. “I thought you would have given up right there in the forest.”

“Thank you.” I gasped before realizing. “Wait, what?”

“Marion should be almost done with our meals soon. Go and take a shower, you stink.”

This man was just good at delivering gentle blows, wasn’t he?