A solitary magpie winged its way through the lonely paths of the forest, raucously sounding a cry seemingly at random as it we'ved around, Under, and over the ancient branches of the Forest Giants. Once, as he came to a relatively clear area of the forest, his beady gaze fell upon an explosion of excitement, a frantic fox desperately trying to flee the hounds and The storm of hooves that pursued. But in the space of time that it took him to blink, his wings had already carried him to the other side and back into the cover of trees, The incident already becoming memories of the past.

An undetermined length of time seemed to slide by like slipstream and the single bird dipped beneath a cluster of leaves and quite suddenly found himself in The companionship of a lonely little cottage, ivy vines and clumps of roses winning in the battle to completely cover the rusty colored bricks of the ancient walls, A feisty strand almost reaching to the small chimney. He circled the little building once, feather tips brushing against the thatched roof, Before he settled on one of the windowsills, ruffling his feathers quickly before beginning to twitch and jerk his head back and forth, observing the interior of the cottage.

Only one figure stood inside the cottage, a woman Who seemed slightly startled by the sudden appearance at her window. Lifting her warm brown gaze from the flames of the fire where she stood retrieving the kettle of boiling water with the hem of her skirts wrapped around her hand, Branna's brow quirked upwards with surprise at the appearance of the magpie on her sill, feathers fluffed up as he watched her warily. Her full lips parted for a moment before she turned her mouth up into a smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle. "nervous as ever my lad Magpie." She lilted teasingly to the bird as she carried The black kettle over to her small table in front of the fireplace, lifting it up to pour A small amount of the hot liquid into a carved wooden cup waiting for her, a small blend of tea leaves nestled in the bottom. She heard A small croak of response from the window as she moved to replace the kettle on the hook above the flames and she laughed in response, Spreading out her dress as she Took her place at the table, watching the black and white bird as she thoughtfully let her drink steep.

She was a beautiful woman, this Branna of the woods, Or those who she allowed to ever see her claimed, describing her with a long lithe body and skin that had been generously kissed by the sun, Hair The color of midnight that cascaded past her shoulders in long loose curls, a mysterious aura about her person... But she would more accurately describe herself as a woman who enjoyed the outdoors far too much and wore simple clothing so that she need not worry should her blouse catch on a thorn. Both could be accurate, but she preferred not being vain.

Lifting the cup carefully from the table to her mouth, Branna gently blew on the tendrils of steam that were lazily curling up from the surface of her drink, amusement dancing within her eyes. Testing the drink, she allowed a satisfied sigh to escape her as she discovered that it had cooled enough to not skulled her mouth, savoring the minty sweet flavor that washed over her tongue. Leaning back in her chair, she regarded her visitor with a slight tilt to her head, hair falling over her shoulder with the movement. "I have heard news of a hunting party making merry in the forest today." She mused aloud as if talking to the magpie, Though The bird didn't seem to be paying any attention to her, having started to preen his feathers back into place. Despite this, she continued to talk, Sounding reflective as her gaze drifted out of the open window. "A new Lord has taken over the estate no doubt and is showing his guests some amusement..." The cup lifted to her lips once more and she took a thoughtful sip. "perhaps he would appreciate if I were to provide him with some excitement, Would you think not?" She asked, Not expecting an answer.

A moment of quiet contemplation then saw Branna leaping lightly to her feet with a joyous tinkle of laughter, startling the magpie from her windowsill and sending him flapping into the sky, leaving behind more then one feather in his haste. "yes! I believe that I am feeling up to having some fun today." She trilled excitedly, placing her cup onto the surface of the table before she kicked off her slippers. With graceful movements, she pulled on the silk ribbon holding her dress in place around her waist, allowing it to slip from her shoulders with a few gentle tugs and stepping from the red fabric as it whispered onto the floor. Hurrying to the wooden front door, she flung it open in her excitement, rushing out into the sunlight that spilled over her little clearing. And with each step that she took, her form seemed to shrink, until at the edge of the woods, a black hare dove into the underbrush with a soft rustle.

Sounds of raucous laughter and cheers filled the air, as a party of young men, all in fine clothes, cocked hats, and hunting boots, on gallant steeds, galloped through the streets of a small village, Thryte, and into the courtyard of Munro Manor, home the the illustrious Munro family. The old and well-liked lord and owner of this fine mansion Old Aldebiert Munro has caught pneumonia and a riding trip and passed away. But today was the dawn of a new era, the next Munro was to inherit this vast wealth of land, a glorious mansion, and a fortune beyond his wildest dreams. Today was young Lord Fyfe's day. The surrounding village was aflame with excitement, and all were standing in the grimy streets waiting to meet the young boy. The villeins, at the very sight of this merry party, parted, steeping into the gutter. Men took off their hats and bowed, the ladies followed suit and curtsied, and the children, most of whom didn't understand what was happening, waved at the men. Then the crowd erupted into cries of 'Huzzah!' as young Fyfe rode past them.

Fyfe was a curious-looking young man of five-and-twenty, he wasn't what most would call naturally handsome, but there was no way of denying that he had looks on his side. He bore a slight tan, from spending one too many hours out in the sun, and his skin tone really set out his icy blue eyes, that inquisitively gazed into the hearts and souls of the people. His short, wavy hair was the same colour as a chestnut, but with a reddish tinge to it so it looked more copper than anything else, and his nose had a healthy dose of freckles. Not the sort of man most would call handsome, but his looks were so stange that there was some sort of allure about them.

As the men slowed their horses to a sudden and sharp halt in the courtyard, Fyfe rode the the front, and heard cries from his friends, cries of joy. "Alright, alright lads! Quiet, be quiet would you! Especially you Campbell, my Lord, quiet! I welcome you to Munro Manour. My Munro Manour! Today, we shall eat, drink, and be merry. And best of all, we shall hunt, today, for the greatest prize we can find. Then we shall do the eating, drinking and being merry. How does that sound, my Lords?" More cheers came from the wild crowd. Then, one of the men raised a hand. "My Lord Munro! If you're seeking a great prize, there's nothing better than the Black Hare." Fife cocked his head a bit, he had never heard of the Black Hare before, and his interest was very clearly piqued. "Speak then," he said, "Lord Lockley. Do tell us of this Black Hare." Lockley bowed his head and continued.

"My Lord Munro, for many years now, a mysterious create has inhabited theese forests of Thryte. A dark hare, impossible to catch, barely ever sighted. Lord Aldebiert died trying to find in." A murmur of interest was audible from the crowd. "The Black Hare is, as I said, almost never sighted. If you can catch a beast such as that Hare, you would be hailed a hero for sure! That is all, my Lord Munro." A Black Hare, that's very rare for sure. Just the sort of challenge Fufe enjoyed. "Well then, lads! Let's catch us a Black Hare! Onwards, our grand merriment beings now!" He yelled. The servants, upon hearing the call, released to vicious black mongrels, who followed Fyfe's hunting party everywhere.

They ignored most of the game, for hours they scoured the forest, but there was not a Black Hare in sight. There were complaints, curses and anger came from the gentlemen. "Dammit, Lord Munro!" Groaned Lockley. "I wish I hadn't told you that legend, it's impossible such a beast exists anyway! Aye, impossible, I dare say." Fyfe leapt off his horse, and kicked the ground hard. "That's it! We've come all this way just for doubts. Come, my Lords, onwards, I say! We shall find that blasted hare if it kills me!" He climed back onto his horse, and trotted off deeper int the grove. But his party went in the other direction, they knew where they were goin, Fife did not. He was unnevred at the silence surrounding him, he did not realise his party, and dogs, had left him until he was completely lost. "Blasted companions, some friends they are!" A quiet rustle of the leaves, as a magpie flew into the blue sky, frightened his horse, and he was thrown into the undergrowth. His horse galloped off, and he was alone. Not wasting any time, he crept through the mysterious forest.

And the, he saw a cottage. "In the middle of this forest? Why would anyone settle here? I wonder..." His cloak was covered in mud, and he reluctantly took it off, and slung it over his shoulder. "Hello! Anybody? Hello!" He called looking through the window to see if anyone was at home.

Weaving through her familiar forest home, Branna's ears were alert for the telltale sounds of a hunting party, whiskers vibrating as her nose twitched. Hooves thundering along the ground sounded soon after she crossed a small creek and she instinctively froze, braced for the appearance of hounds and hunters, But found herself blinking with surprise as a lone riderless horse galloped past her in a clear panic. One of the nobleman must have been thrown from his mount already she concluded with amusement as she watched the startled animal disappear around the next bend. Glancing in the direction the horse had come from, Branna quickly came to the conclusion that heading in that direction would eventually lead her to those she sought. Briefly rubbing her front paws over her face with excitement, she started off at another quick Sprint into the trees, even more alert.

Sounds of the hunting party we're not long in coming after that. It had her heart leaping within her chest, Her muscles tensing with anticipation of the Chase. As the whinny of a horse sounded, she dug her claws into the ground, turning her body in the direction the sound had come from and leaping into the cover of the trees, ready for the hunt.

Flying over the forest floor, Branna thrilled over the stretch and bunch of her muscles, The rapid tattoo of her heart within her chest, The feeling of the air as it washed over her body, and the pure joy of the speed of her run. If she could have laughed while in this body, she would have gaily allowed her happiness to escape her in peals of mirth. Instead, she found that she had to be creative in releasing the excess energy, bounding around trunks of trees, Diving through clusters of bushes, And taking every opportunity she could to tease The hunters.

With a small shower of broken twigs, the black hare leapt through a tangle of low bushes and out onto a barely perceivable deer run, Turning sharply to the right to point herself directly in the path of an approaching group of humans, dogs, and horses. Panic comically ensued at her sudden appearance, Several of the mounts whinnying and prancing or kicking out there front hooves with alarm. Those on their backs cried with dismay, Clutching at reins and kicking with their heels to try and control the frightened animals, but all the attempts made seemed only to alarm the equines farther. The only ones that seemed even relatively unstartled by the situation were the hounds, Appearing excited contrast to the rest of the party as they howled and barked, jumping forward into action quickly. With a fresh surge of adrenaline, Branna twisted her body just enough so that she clipped the lead dog with one of her back paws before jumping back into the forest, helpfully lleading The group towards a small clearing amidst The trees.

Several meters into the forest now, she spotted a half collapsed tree that was leaning against its neighbors, Darting beneath it's rotting wood and turning sharply to the left, diving within the cover of a blackberry bush. Skidding to a stop, she lifted her ears as she listened to the howling of the dogs and the pound of hooves as their masters followed closely behind, their voices mingling with the cries with whoops of encouragement. She stood, quivering with the heaving of her breath and the twitching of her nose, until one of the dogs came crashing through the bush in pursuit of her. She twisted nimbly away from his snapping ivory teeth, darting beneath his squirming body in the direction she had just come from. Kicking down with her back legs, she leapt over the second hound on the other side of the bush, Confusing the poor creature to no end as this resulted in his collision with his companion, the canines yelping with surprised as they became tangled within the branches of the bush she had just fled.

Speeding away from the struggling dogs, the black hare seemed to consider her actions before she suddenly turned in the direction of the approaching horse and his rider that had just managed to break through the foliage, Gaining momentum as she raced across the open ground. At the last possible moment, she tensed The muscles in her legs, pushing away from the ground in a powerful jump that sent her arcing high into the air, she had timed her leap so at the pinnacle of her arch, She crossed over the exact point between the man and his gelding's neck, claws scraping the leather of his saddle. For the briefest of instances, she was able to turn her head just enough to catch a glimpse of the man's face And then she was falling to the other side of the horse, Landing with a soft huff as the air was pushed out of her lungs. Without a backwards glance, Branna sped onward into the forest, heading in the direction where she could smell the sweet scent of a spring fed pond.

As she vaulted over a clump of twisted vines, a daring and reckless idea suddenly struck Branna, Causing her already quickly beating heart to increase in speed. But when she broke through the trees into a small meadow filled to the brim with wildflowers, she didn't hesitate as she slowed her pace a fraction, Allowing one of the dogs to catch up to her momentarily. As his breath grew hot on her fur, The proximity of his teeth to her skin became dangerous, she suddenly put on another boost of speed, darting out from beneath the hopeful hound's nose just as hiss fangs were beginning to close, Listening to the sound of a snap as they caught only empty air. Such Energy flooded her limbs at the new game, She could barely contain her excitement, Looping around a trunk on the opposite side of the clearing and immediately repeating the process.

The dogs were less amused with her antics, growling as she continued to slip away from them at the last moment, Running circles around their paws and forcing them to run in ever increasingly difficult patterns through the flowers. One poor beast finally gave up at one point, pink tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted at the edge of the trees, sitting down on his haunches as he watched the remaining dog continuing the Chase. Branna was continuously increasing her recklessness, delaying the time when she would dart away from danger, putting herself into increasingly difficult situations that nevertheless made her blood sing with excitement. She had just bounded away from her attacker, allowing him to just get his teeth on her flank, When a horse unexpectedly broke into the clearing, startling the hare. She had almost completely forgotten that there were riders following the dogs in the thrill of her game and The surprise of the mount's entrance made her muscles jump, paws momentarily stumbling over the ground. She recovered after a breathtaking instant, Turning her trajectory in the opposite direction, but the delay had given the pursuing dog the advantage. Sharp pain suddenly cut into her back right leg, Jerking her momentum to an abrupt halt as she fell hard against the ground, sharp squeal issuing from her mouth at the sensation. Panic instantaneously replaced the excitement, dread clutching at her heart, and Branna felt The caress of death at her back for the first time, her foolish actions suddenly crashing down around her.

what have I done!

Claws scrabbling at the ground in her fright, Creating small furrows in the soil, the hare began to twist and struggle against the hold of her captor. Intermittent squeals continuing to break from her throat. She was beginning to lose herself to the animalistic instinct for self-preservation when her humanity screamed at her from within to break free, Arguing that she was smarter than this. Fighting to control her breath, She rotated the top of her body, struggling against the sharp pain it sent up her leg, and sank her long incisors into the muzzle of the hound, hoping against her fears that it would do the trick. She was rewarded with a sudden loosening of the jaws, teeth slipping from the wounds they had created, and a yelp of alarm and pain from the dog. She collapsed heavily to the ground, momentarily overwhelmed by her sudden freedom, But was brought back into reality at the barking of the dog's companion, The surprised shouts of the humans. Gathering the last of her strength, she shot off of the ground, Ignoring the throb of her back leg as she called on her muscles to provide her with the speed she needed as she fled into the undergrowth. Trying not to think of the trickle of heat sliding down her leg that was her blood, She disappeared into a bramble bush, Shoving past thorns and twigs to dive into the protection of the waiting mouth of a Long forgotten burrow.

Fyfe's perception of time was a bit hazy. He had spent a few minuets walking around that cottage, trying to interpret if anyone was there. But to him, it was hours, days, months, years. Ages. How could he tell, there was no clock aroind him, or sundial for that matter. "Hello? Please, somebody answer me!" He knew that nobody was home, but he thought somebody might be around the area. Maybe even Lord Lockley and the others. "Lockley? Campbell? Brochurst? Anyone?" He called into the trees of the vast forest. His muddy cloak was slung over his shoulder, revealing a light blue frock coat, perfectly unsuitable for the woods. His hand brushed over his forehead, knocking his cocked hat backwards a small bit, the tip was touching his heavy cloak.

"Ach, damn these blasted woods! Can't a man find any help? Dammy, I swear I'll find a way out, or my name isn't Lord Fyfe Duncan Munro the second!" He muttered under his breath. Old Aldebiert Munro was only Fyfe's uncle, but he had no children of his own, Fyfe was his only legacy. He studied the cottage with some detail, and concluded that there were no living inhabitants of this cottage, clearly. It was unfit for a human being to live in. Unless there were supernatural creatures in the woods, nobody could live here. And supernatural creatures were just the stuff of legends, make-belive, bedtime stories to scare the children. Weren't they? Ah, well. He noticed the door was open. Peculiar. An abandoned house with opened doors? Even ancient civilisations has theives and robbers didn't they? He cautiously stepped into the house, instinctively knocking on the door, to see a woman. A beautiful, beautiful woman. A nymph, a goddess standing before him.

He quietly gasped, and went bright red. He covered it up with a deep bow. When he regaind composer he stood upright again. "Oh, my lady!" He said, sounding a bit breathless. "My lady, forgive me for intrudinag. Oh, where are my manners? May I come in? Thank you. I appear to be lost, my lady. I came with some friends, a hunting party you understand. My hunting party. Oh, why do I keep forgetting myslef? Lord Fyfe Munro, at your service." He bowed again, and kissed her hand, like he thought a gentleman should. "Well, I'm a bit lost, you see. And I was wondering if I could enlist your help. I'll pay you, if you want. My entire fortune." He shook his head, to stop himself from rambling, and took off his hat, letting his copper mane reign free.

Squeezing out of the exit she had made on the other end of the tunnel that had helped with her timely escape, Branna heaved a small sigh of relief, Shaking the dirt from her fur before tilting her head back the direction she had come and caulking her ears to listen. Distantly, she could hear the baying of the hounds intermittently punctuated by a whinny, But the sound seemed to be steadily distancing themselves from her, heading in the opposite direction. Her body sagged gratefully at the information, ears drooping back against her head, And she wearily turn her body in the direction that would take her home, starting off with a prominent limp as she favored her right hind leg.

The journey was slow going and late afternoon began to creep up on the world as the hare wove her path through the trunks of the trees. By the time she hopped her way out into the clearing outside of the cottage, the last hints of True day we're starting to fade into twilight in the western horizon. With what little strength was left to her, Branna concentrated on her body, stretching out her legs, lifting herself onto her hind feet. Gradually, but quickly, her body began to grow, the thick black fur receding, long ears shrinking away. As she came to the small well near the front of the building, she gratefully leaned against it's stone lip with her human hands, thankful to be back in her own skin once more.

After a long moment, With the quiet of the early evening punctuated by her steady panting, a laugh suddenly bubbled up within her, Breaking past her lips in a breathless tinkle. Supporting her weight with her hips against the stone, she lifted her hands and rubbed them over the skin of her face, through the ringlets of her dark hair, and laughed. "you foolish lass." She managed to get out between bursts of giggles, Shaking her head slowly. "almost got yourself killed over a bit of fun... But oh, what fun it was." Continuing to chuckle with amusement at her own silly game, Branna lifted a bucket from beside the well up to the opening, letting it drop into the darkness in a sudden descent until she heard a splash as it hit the water below.. Waiting only a moment, she reached for the handle to the left of the structure, cranking it with a steady rhythm until the wooden container reappeared, Full to the brim with clear liquid. Reaching out, she pulled it to her, resting it against the top of the wall. Cupping her hand, she scooped a mouthful of the cold liquid passed her waiting lips, Savoring the sweet liquid as it washed away the dry feeling on her tongue. With another grateful sigh, She lifted the bucket into her arms, Taking every limp she received in payment for her foolishness as she carried it into the stone cottage.

Placing The bucket of water onto the stone hearth of The fireplace with a soft thunk, The young woman reached out to carefully touch the outer surface of the kettle she had left to hang over the flames, pleased when she discovered that it was still warm. Before she lifted it from its hook, she threw A couple of fresh logs onto the glowing embers, Provoking their gentle flicker into new life. Satisfied with the quickly growing flames licking eagerly at the fresh wood, Branna retrieved the water and took it over to her table, setting it onto the surface before she retrieved a shallow dish and a handful of clean white bandages, a washing cloth, and a small bottle of wine. Before sitting down, she carefully bent and retrieved her discarded dress, letting The soft material fall over her naked body and cut the chill that she had started to feel. With nimble and well practiced fingers, she tied the ribbon at her back into a bow, Straightening out her skirts before returning back to her task. Lowering herself into one of the chairs at the table, she went about filling the bowl with water, pulling another chair closer to her, And propping her injured leg onto it's supportive surface. With several grimaces, she carefully began to clean and inspect her wounds, wincing as several of The punctures broke open anew.

"you deserve every one of these." She spoke to herself as she began disinfecting the cuts with the wine, biting at her lower lip as they stung and prickled unpleasantly. "that dog nearly took your leg off. You should be grateful that didn't happen."talking aloud to herself seemed to be helping with the swell of guilt she felt in her stomach and the pain of the bite on her leg, Keeping her going as she found some left over herbs to make a poultice to spread over her wounds, Bandaging the lower half of her calf and the entirety of her ankle in clean strips of cloth. "there." She breathed, Tying off the end of her wrappings. "feeling better already." She mustered up A small smile, for it was truly beginning to feel a little less tender, even allowing her to put her weight onto her leg for a short time as she stood, collecting The things on the table to put them away.



With a soft exhale, Branna slowly opened her eyes, blinking confusedly. When was it that she had fallen asleep? Rubbing at The corner of one eye, she sat up from where she had been laying on her bed, where she had lain down to read before retiring for the evening. The book that had been resting on her stomach tumbled into her lap and the young woman blinked down at it, still unable to recollect falling asleep. But then, what had woken her up? Looking around the interior of the cottage, Branna frowned as she realized that the front door was still open, late evening light spilling in and spreading across the floorboards. But before she could make note of much more, a shout from outside quite abruptly made her startle, Waking her completely at once.

"oh dear." She huffed, rising from the bed. Limp to her gait, she went to the table, lifting a small lamp from the center and moving over to the fire, beginning to stoop to collect a stick from the edges to light the wick. She froze with her hand outstretched as a figure suddenly stepped into the doorway, knocking softly against the door.

"Oh!" She gasped softly as the face of a young man registered with her surprised senses, his expression almost as surprised as hers as she stood there, lamp in hand. Before he could notice her hesitation, Branna allowed a bright smile to blossom onto her face, teeth a flash of White in the dim light. "good evening Sir. It's rather late to be taking a walk, is it not?" She teased lightly, preforming what curtsy she could without causing further injury to her leg in response to his bow.

A kiss to the back of her hand had Branna flushing somewhat, unused to such attention. Her dark gaze Took the opportunity to study the young Lord subtly, Making note of his good looks and stylish trim he had given to his hair as he removed his hat, the rich texture of his clothing as he explained his plight. Her eyebrows drew together with concern as she listened, his words stumbling. Perhaps he was a shy man. Then he gave his name and she blinked with shock. "Lord Munro."she repeated. "as in the Lord Munro? ...oh dear. You do seem to be rather far from your manor house my Lord." She observed, wondering if this had been he who had lost his horse so early in the chase. The idea made her almost want to smile.

"I would be happy to be of assistance Lord Munro." Branna finally managed after considering. "I am called Branna Windwood. But Branna Will suffice." She said, unsure whether or not to perform another curtsy, but decided to forego doing such. She didn't think her leg could handle a repeat of the action. Glancing towards the still open doorway, she briefly bit at her lower lip in contemplation. "were you planning on requiring an escort back to the manor house?"she then asked, taking note of the growing lateness of the hour.