He knew immediately he had made a mistake in his offer. With what little light they had, Petya did not fail to catch the gaze from Oksana as a pair of daggers flashed in the dark up at him, he did not attempt to match her gaze with his own.

Oksana had always been different. She lacked the femininity of most women her age in the village and was fierce, independent, steadfast and stubborn, had she been born a man, had they had found a boy out in the woods following them all of those times, they would of laughed and put a bow in his hand, however, she was Oksana, and she had been laughed at and told to head home. Had she been born a man, her qualities in a small village such as Adishi would have been lauded, but such qualities in a woman caused you to stand out, and not for the right reasons.

Petya watched her as she turned down his offer, and with defiance, attempt to steady herself. Petya felt a pang of pity as he watched her, pity and guilt, he had never laughed at her or mocked her, but nor did seek to defend her either. Petya did not really pay her any heed, he simply didn't care of what she had wanted or what the others would say of her. It felt selfish, especially at this moment, as their homes and their neighbours lay in ruin, wasted by spectres and a wave of darkness that he still struggled to comprehend, it felt selfish that Petya had never sought to care.

Oksana's defiance had carried her so far, a solitary reach forward in fact, before she had to find support at the base of the tree. She breathed heavily, panted and cursed in such colourful fashion that would had even caused Petya to blush had the time and place been any different.

“Maybe a little help.”

Petya approached Oskana with some hesitance, a wolf may lay dying but it's bite still remains the same, he felt Oskana was no different. He hooked her arm over his head and with a huff, lifted her up in both arms. “I'm sorry.” Petya said from under his breath, he did not know why he felt compelled to apologise, yet, he did. Being in such close proximity of her, it appeared to Petya as the most comfortable thing for him to say.

“Old Pavel instructed us to all group at the tavern,” Petya said, turning to the younger, much alive, Pavel. The outline of the tavern's lights cut it's figure out in the distance, it appeared unharmed in the ensuing darkness that came, and it seemed the wisest decision, the tavern was large enough to house the majority of the village, and it was stocked with fresh bread, meat, fish and ale to survive long enough in the night until the sun's dawn. Petya had little to say as he followed his original path through the snow back to the village, Oskana still in his arms and Pavel following, he didn't know what to say; beyond questions of who was alive, who was death and if anyone was injured, there was very little to say. “What were you doing so far out?” A question coming to the forefront of his mind as they reached the outlying houses of Adishi. 

“I won't tell anyone if you followed us on the hunt.” Petya bit the bottom of his lip, something in his head told him he had said the wrong thing, feeling incredibly patronising, like a child in study with the other children, one of which had just committed themselves to something naughty without being discovered by the adults and the other's then trying to find out, promising they won't let the secret slip.

Out of the snow, his pace began to quicken as his boots marched up the similar dirt roads he had ran upon as a child, at the peak of the road came the tavern, the reward of those for their hard-work as the sun set, a number of figures gathered.