Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“Do you have any idea the risk you put yourself in?” Grimm asked with crossed arms.
I nodded. “I’m sorry,” I said as all angry eyes settled on me.
“She’s been punished,” Beo said. “I made sure she will think twice before wandering off into the woods without us.”
“Maybe she needs to be punished by each one of us to make sure of it,” Rood said as he glared at me. “Have you no idea how dangerous this forest is? We can’t protect you if you leave us as we sleep! Have you any idea what we thought when we awoke to find you gone?”
“And we had to separate as a pack to search for you. That put each one of us at risk. If the dark force hadn’t been weak, Beo…” Canis said as he swallowed back his anger. “We don’t separate as a pack, and never have before you.”
“I just…well, after the story you told me, I felt the villagers needed to know the truth. You all deserve so much more. I wanted to help.” I looked down at my feet in shame. “If you all want to punish me individually, I would understand.”
I was prepared to take more punishment if it would mean having them all stop looking at me with anger and disappointment in their eyes. Anything but the looks. I hadn’t meant to frighten them, and I most certainly hadn’t intended to put Beo or anyone else at risk with my idea.
“Your penance has been paid with Beo,” Grimm announced as he approached me and took hold of both of my arms. He stared into my eyes, inches from my face. “Your life is at risk as long as you are in this forest. Don’t think we don’t know this. We don’t take that fact lightly. But allow us to protect you while you are here. Do you understand? No more running off. Are we clear?”
I nodded, feeling the tight ball of anticipation in my stomach release. “Yes. I won’t do it again.” I looked around Grimm’s broad frame at the other men, and added, “Please forgive me. Believe me when I say that I meant no harm to any of you. I just didn’t think it all the way through before I acted.”
Grimm gave a small smile. “Good.” He pulled away and looked at all the men and then back at me. “We have the smoked deer that we have been working on almost ready. Our friends, the huntsmen, left us some rabbit stew that Snow made for us. Let us go about our chores today, and then we can all have an early feast in celebration of yesterday’s victory and Beo’s successful fight today.”
I wouldn’t exactly say that I was a good cook, but I knew the basics around a kitchen. My baking skills were in need of improving, and I struggled sometimes at being creative with what meager food items I often had. But I knew enough about cooking to know that something was off about the stew the minute Helm removed the lid of the pot.
The slightly pungent odor had all the men sniffing at the pot in disgust.
“What is it?” Rood asked.
“I told you,” Grimm said, sniffing it again. “The huntsmen left it while we were all out searching for Red. There was a note that said Snow made her famous rabbit stew and to enjoy.” Grimm reached for a spoon and began dishing up the thick and slimy-looking matter into the bowls stacked up beside the boiling stew.
As the clumpy globs of meat fell into the bowl, Canis said, “It’s gray. The stew is gray.”
“It smells like death,” Beo added.
Feeling as if I needed to defend Snow for her kind gift, I spoke up. “I’m sure it tastes much better than it looks and smells.” I tried to soften my face and not appear as if the smell bothered me in the slightest. “You all have a heightened sense of smell anyway. I’m sure it’s just a delicious spice that was used that isn’t agreeing with you all.”
Grimm dished up the rest of the stew, and as we all sat with our bowls in our hands, I noticed all the men looking at me to take the first bite. Hoping that Snow knew what she was doing, and that my defense of her was all true, I took a heaping spoonful and shoved it into my mouth.
I was wrong. Snow did not know what she was doing.
Not only did the stew smell like death, it tasted like it.
But trying not to be rude, and frankly not wanting to suffer in this misery alone, I faked a smile and spoke with a mouthful of hell. “Tastes like rabbit stew.”
Having my approval, the men all dove into their stew and hungrily shoved in just as equally large, if not larger, mouthfuls as I did. The looks of utter disgust on their faces was enough for me to laugh out loud and spew the remaining stew in my mouth all over the fire blazing before me.