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Show Page 124 westering sun had set long since. We kept close together as we started through the darkening woods, both silent, though my mind was full of thoughts Twig had set afoot. A breeze from the northwest searched under my shawl, causing my skin to prickle, though I was not cold. "It will be a fine day on the morrow for the pig slaughter," I told Twig, my voice small comfort in the darkness. A small squeak told me he agreed. A branch snapped to one side and we froze as one. It was silent and we went on, yet as soon as we commenced to walk, we again heard the snapping of twigs, the padding of feet. "'Tis only the swine," I whispered, though I knew it was not true, for I heard not the grunting and woofing I had come to recognize. As dread washed over me, my mind was a hotchpotch of confusing thoughts. Should we run and chance falling in the darkness or losing our way? Should we pick our way slowly and risk being caught by whatever dark menace stalked us? Just as I felt a scream bubbling into my throat, the smell of smoke from the settlement drifted through the barren trees. "Run!" I ordered Through the trees we raced, branches whipping our faces and roots snapping at our flying feet. Breathless, we stumbled out of the trees into a field where brittle cornstalks rustled. We stood for a time, until our breathing and our terror |