Ruthless existence

He couldn't guess how much time had passed since he woke up.

When he had the great idea to look back, he found himself dumbfounded. In his own footprint there was a track he could follow too. Even though snow covered most traces, the smell that emanated from it still remained, making it a reliable path.

Back when he sat on his rock, he was too tired to notice even his sweat spots had the glow, a deep blue-ish one.

'Nah, can't be. Can't always be the impossible, not believing that.' He thought in denial. The first option he could think about was having the same scent as a wolf, the other was worse. Because he had already seen the colour, he might have been with the wolves, where he led the hunter group. Alas he saw no human footprint and his hypothesis needed much more imagination.

'The monster from that night, he's nothing ordinary, he's like an enhanced goat... With red eyes! I've never seen a goat with red eyes... Mine can go yellow, and I've yet to grow horns!' Oswald had never been the smartest, putting two and two together was a relatively difficult task.

'The heck am I turning into?' He wondered, punching on a tree. He had to get closer to the trunk when a ton of snow fell on his back. The top of the tree shook while it rocked left and right. The pine was about ten meters high, its trunk, supposedly solid, had the mark of Oswald's punch.

"Oh boy." He said, looking at his unharmed hand.

The sun was high up in the sky and he spotted smoke nearby. Be it a fire or a chimney, he rushed toward it.

A small house, with no upper floor and a large terrace stood in the middle of the woods. The stream passed under the rock-carved frame of the house where a watermill spun, it was connected to the inside of the house with a smooth log.

The constantly rotating mechanism could be heard from afar.

Plenty of tools were scattered around, an axe, maces, pincers, everything a blacksmith could wish for. The sole thing he was looking for, clothes, were inside of the house. Through the window, he could see child sized pants, dresses and luckily, male outfits.

He gently pushed the window, making the wood break little by little until its lock fell apart. He entered what seemed to be a cellar and put the clothes on. Green glowing dust floated on the clothes, it was his first time noticing the human smell. His was different, he knew he wasn't human anymore.

The little girl that stood motionless with her milk cup and wide opened-eyes had never seen a burglar, she had lots of question to ask.

The first step she made was heard by Oswald, he jumped out of surprise, making the little girl jump too. He was relieved to not see an adult though. The green luminescence around her confirmed the color theory.

"Hey! How are you?" He asked, not sure of what to say in his situation.

She was around six, about a meter high, her blond hair was hidden beneath layers of dirt.

"Why, in the name of the Lord, were you half naked and wandering outside?" The sincere question was her answer, she was baffled to have a visitor that entered by the window.

"I got lost!" Oswald blatantly answered, talking with children had always been easier for one that had yet to mature.

"Do you need a towel or what? Good Lord, the window is broken! Be careful, there's glass everywhere!" She said. Her childish worry was one of the most delicate attention Oswald had recently.

"I can't feel cold, I'm always hot, don't worry, I wanted clothes because just as you said, I don't match the landscape!" His gaze locked onto a small necklace she wore, it hanged on the middle of her chest with a golden cross. His silence made the little girl blush when she noticed what he said was right. She held his hand to guide him out of the broken glass and she was stunned of the difference of temperature between them.

While her blood circulation was bad and she was cold from head to toe, the tip of Oswald's fingers was warmer than the place she often put her thumb in.

"I'm borrowing those clothes but I'll bring them back, I promise, please don't tell your parents..." Pleaded Oswald with a sorry glare. "I've been wandering for so much time, I don't even know what to do. I beg you, don't give me more troubles than I already have."

The little girl shook her head and touched the top of her torso before saying.

"I'm Ruth and I must help out people in need. Why don't you have a sit and tell me your story? My parents won't be back before night anyway." She said while the boy couldn't help but stare at her necklace. She was very calm, her curiosity competed with the oddity of the intruder.

'It's the same but upside down. I can ask, I can always ask.'

"Say, what culture does your necklace originate from?"

"What do you mean?" She blurted. She had been raised by pious parents, her life's meaning revolved around the religion she bathed in daily. "It's impolite to not answer one's question." She added, tapping her foot with impatience.

"You did it first." Oswald chuckled. "I thank you for your friendliness, Ruth, but I have to find my house before nightfall, else I'll lose myself even more, I don't think I have the time to tell you the whole thing. Do you know where's Revel?"

He wanted to leave already, and the little girl had no argument to keep talking with the stranger. She loved foreigners as much as flowers. She could see them for a short period once per year and she had to wait a lot to see different ones.

"I'll tell you if you intent to come back. I'm lonely here." She said, Oswald could relate her situation and crouched to kiss her hand, as a gentleman would do. 'I better have her thinking about me as a secret lover than a thief.' While looking at her in the eyes, he said. "I'm Ozzy, best hunter of Revel's forest, and I'll be glad to get to know you better. I'll come back with the clothes, and stories to tell."

The girl was glad, she indicated vaguely a direction he wasn't sure to understand. But the green footprint he found meant he was in the right direction.