There were holes in her shoes.
She could feel them opening up into greater and greater rifts the further she trudged, as inevitable as the lowering sun over the horizon. It would be dark soon and she had no shelter, no fire, and there were holes in her shoes.
It was her own fault, really. She had not prepared for the trials of the wilderness, being largely ignorant of what they might have in store. She had not brought anything but the fine clothing upon her back and a bit of rations that she had already gone through. It was dawning upon her how foolish this escape had truly been.
Even still, the thought of turning back and attempting to explain her sudden disappearance to the gamehouse that Zamara had fled from filled the young dancer with a sourness that kept her blistering feet moving forward. Surely, she thought, there will be a kindhearted traveler before long that could guide her to relative safety. Or perhaps even give up a little food.
Her stomach rumbled not for the first time that day and she began to wonder how difficult it would be to catch some small creature to cook up. Even the plants she knew very little of had begun to look appealing despite the dangers they might hold. Zamara was growing desperate and the night was rapidly approaching.
She perked as she heard something in the distance. A noise steadily increased in volume the further ahead she walked and soon she realized that it was the trickling sounds of a flowing creek. Thank the gods she thought and her pace quickened despite the discomfort it brought as she eagerly pursued the noises. She moved recklessly, hoping to beat the sun before she lost its guiding light when her ankle caught the wrong end of a crooked stone and it rolled painfully. Zamara was flung forward and might have been seriously injured were it not for the sudden discovery of the creek she had been chasing; her hands splashed into its chilly waters up to their elbows and soaked her entire torso from the waist up. Miserable, the young woman pushed herself awkwardly out from the creek’s bed and sat herself upon its bank.
Zamara’s chest swelled with a held breath that she then let out in a rapid whoosh. Her eyes turned skyward with a morose glare, as though it were the stars fault for her rashness. “Well. Now what?” She asked them with futility in her voice as she tugged off her ruined sandals and cast them aside.
Zamara
