Marina, Kidnapped part 2

Marina ran. She ran into the woods, dagger in hand, gasping for breath, before she came to her base. Marina’s base was one place that absolutely nobody knew about. Not her parents, not any princes, not even Marina’s kitten, Boots. It had leather clothes, an extra sword, another dagger, and even a spring nearby. The crude shelter was made of sticks and mud stuck together, built by Marina. She had learned how to do that when she ran away from home with a traveling hunter for a week. Again, that is another story for another day. In this story, Marina entered her base. She threw the jewels, the silk, and even the corset off of her body. She put on a pair of leather boots, a leather tunic, and her favorite belt, the one that held her sword and dagger snugly at her side. As she did this, she kept muttering to herself “It’s not like I’ll be going back there any time soon.” Marina decided that she would go gather some calming berries and herbs, and she needed them, because she was seething. She had been dancing with a prince that kept telling her that she was doing the dance wrong, while he was the one that was actually messing it up. Now, Marina hated dancing, but she hated being wrong even more, and even more than that, she hated being told she was wrong when she was actually right. Marina had far more education in dance than she cared to have, so much that she probably could have danced with the man that composed and choreographed “The Blue Waltz.” Then, her mother just had to come over, while stuffing her stupid face with fatty food, and reprimand Marina for eating too much duck.

                From all of this, Marina was in a terrible mood. She drove her dagger into the bark of a gnarled oak and slashed her sword through the air. Except it wasn’t air. Marina hit something that felt like a sand bag and heard a loud grunt. Thinking what she hit to be a wild boar, Marina whirled around, eyes wild, preparing to kill the boar if it was aggressive. Instead of a boar, a hand seized Marina’s shirt and whirled her around to face a gruff face. It was the face of a thug. Marina had seen “wanted” posters with that face on them. That giant scar on his cheek was hard to miss. His name was…Marina couldn’t remember. She did remember that this man was dangerous – a murderer and kidnapper. One thing Marina had not seen on the poster was the cut on the man’s belly. It was bleeding. Marina realized that she had made it with her sword. Her sword! She thought of it too late. The weapon was in the man’s calloused hands already. He chuckled.

More next week, because I like to keep people in suspense. Thanks for reading! Any current critiques, comments, compliments, corrections, curiosities or questions should go into the comments below and they will be answered shortly.