The morning light had brought forth a frenzy of activities in the pine forest. The aura was steamed with the chips of robins and the howls of wolves. Behind the cottage lay a garden on which the owner practiced peasantry. From being the daughter of a wealthy legislator in the Texas house of assembly, Amelia was quick to find her life in shambles when her father was accused of conniving with bandits to steal from the state. At fourteen, she had fled alongside her parents; ending up exiled in the Dark-pine.

The horrors of last night was very much present in her psyche as she slowly stood up from the wooden floor where she had dozed off in fright. As she Staggered up to full sanity, her tired steps hurried towards the deserted kitchen and suddenly paused at the middle. She hawked her gaze In circles, peering carefully amidst the rays of the morning sun. Certain no one was looking, she headed back inside, halted at her kitchen and stood before a giant cupboard which housed some old pots. With a deep breath, She placed her palms on the cupboard and tediously pushed it to the side. Very quickly, she knelt to the floor and lifted up an extended chip of tile.

“ You are alive.” She gasped with a mild beam as her gaze fell on the presence of the stranger. Confused, she headed to the bathroom, fetched a napkin and water before returning to the restless fellow that lay in the bunker. The fresh gash on his muscular-chest still dripped with blood and it caused her to quickly give aid to it while she gazed at the charm of his Chiseled face. He was slightly bearded on both jaws and had narrow-blue eyes. A long nose-ridge and small lips that were reddish and thick. He’s tall and built like athlete.

“ Who did this you?” She slurred as gently wiped the sore on his muscular chest.

“ Argrr!!” He groaned deeply, Peering blankly at the lady Squatted before him.

“ You can speak? Can you sir?” She asked, frowning at the depth of his sore. Only his tired groans of pain met her question causing to panic for the safety of his life. The words taunting words of Gallagher was very much fresh on her mind. Her days in the Pine were rather existential than lived. She was lonely without friends and without humanly foes.

“ Alas, if she could save the stranger, he may stay and share the woods with her.” Was her thought as she gazed at him with much empathy. Very quickly she stood up, holding the soiled Napkin in her hands. She could see he had loosed much blood causing her panicked-confusion to birth out sobs. Her options were spent as she stood peering helplessly at the wounded stranger.

“ I heard it all.” A voice slurred and sighed in exhaustion.

“ Oh goodness. You speak.” She gasped and moved closer to him.

“ Thank you.” He breathed with his head slightly slanted to his shoulder while his lids were partially shut.

“ What’s your name? and why was Gallagher after you?” She stuttered with much ado.

“ Maximin” He sighed in pain. “ My name is Maximin.” He added and tried to sit against the wall.

“ Where are you from?” She asked, instinctively keeping a fair distance from him.

“ The North.” He moaned and shrugged against the wall with dire difficulty.

“ North?” She stammered, growing more unassured about the stranger whose condition wasn’t getting any better.

“ Yes, Vermont.” He breathed.

“ Vermont. Why was Gallagher after you?” She inquired, maintaining a fair distance from him.

“ To steal, to kill, I don’t know.” He sniffled and bent his gaze to examine his injury.

“ Okay, Okay.” She stuttered and moved closer to the wounded stranger.

“ Your wound must be cleaned before it gets infected.” She offered and moved closer to him as if ensorcelled by the appearance of the injury. “I’ll fetch a piece of cloth.” She assured and quickly headed into a room.

“ This will hurt you. Place it in your mouth.” She offered, stretching a cotton scarf at him with a keen eye on his body language. He ignored her generosity as he panted, as he gazed at around him.

“ If you groan so loud, someone may hear you.” She cautioned, subtly offering the use of the Cloth.

“ Okay.” He gasped in pain and opened his mouth. She wasted no time to fit the cloth Into it.

“ This will hurt you.” She sighed and began to clean the gash on his chest.

Caught in the napkin; his groans had caused the cottage to tremor as his eyes moistened from excruciation. Aghast by his strength, she had pranced backward with the bloody napkin still in her hands. Only the innocence in his eyes had caused her to return to his side.

“ Your wounds must be stitched.” “ It’s the only way out.” She offered, gazing at the depths of the cut while Maximin groaned in pain.

“ I’m not sure I know how to stitch a man.” She muttered amidst her subconscious as she gazed at his chest with confusion, while her eyes drooled with tears.

“ I’m fine.” Sighed Maximin and raised a thumb at her. The splendor of his watch was quick to steal her attention.

There was something of great awakening in the time-piece that seemed to plague her mind but the notion of saving the stranger’s life had overhauled it.

“ Your wounds must be stitched.” She maintained wondering how she could hear his heartbeat from a feet away.

“ I’m fine.” He groaned and began to stand up. “ I just need a shirt and I’ll be out.” He panted and struggled to sit up again.

“ You’re in a jungle. You won’t make it out there in this condition.” She Cautioned.

“ I’ll be fine.” breathed Maximin as he staggered to his feet. He had barely found his way out of the shallow bunker when as if absent in sight, paused and suddenly crashed to the floor.

“ No !” She cried out and hurried to his side; he was motionless and without breath, the beat in his heart was gone.