Woodland Retreat

Veronika retreated to the woods on the island after work, tired of people, tired of alcohol, tired of life. Why had she chosen to work at a place so similar to the ones her father had frequented, filled with men like him who would stumble home drunk to their own wives and daughters. Maybe the daughter says something a little annoying, or the wife's dinner wasn't hot enough. The drunk takes a swing and bam. It's her father all over again.

Veronika sat down on the ground, with her back against a tree. She grabbed a stick and, with a flick of her wrist, unsheathed her wrist knife, which dropped into her palm easily. She began running the knife up the top of the stick, sharpening it to a point, for lack of anything better to do. She cocked her head to the side at the sound of footsteps.

Rosetta wandered along the forest, deep in her thoughts. She had been planning only to pass and not wander in but memories of a rose-colored cloak and a woman had brought her deeper into the woods. She looked around and started walking towards a sound she heard- the sound of metal against wood. "Oh hello" she said quietly, seeing a girl about a year older than her and knife in hand.

Veronika looked at the newcomer for a second before answering. Red headed, younger than her. Pretty. Distracted. All of her thoughts took place in that one second, something Vasya had taught her- a one second first impression. "Hello," she replied, before the silence became uncomfortable. She looked back down and went back to sharpening her stick. Gesturing with her knife, she said. "Have a seat if you want to. I don't bite." Too bad, she added in her head.