Blackfeather Woods Wrong turn

No matter how much he begged and whimpered, his request was not met. The deal he’d attempted to strike up was smothered before it could even come aglow, leaving him without a single idea as to what was to be done next. Running was, of course, out of the question. Her grip was far stronger than he’d been hoping it would be, jaws clamped like a vise around his flesh. Any efforts put into trying to break free of it would only end badly for him, that he was certain of. The boy valued his freedom, but he also valued his life. Breaking away would surely steal a great chunk of flesh from his body, which would most definitely become infected due to no medical treatment being given. Plus, that was only if he’d actually be successful in getting free, and the chances of that happening were slim. Eventually, he just allowed for himself to go limp, the full picture of his situation settling into space within his mind. There was no escaping the demon’s grasp, so why waste the precious energy he had left attempting to do so? That energy could very well be used for far more productive things later on, and so he did not fight back any longer.

Ragdoll become what his name suggested he was as he was tossed into a cramped space within a darkened cave. He caught site of bones whenever he’d decided to let his eyes explore, and the scent of blood entered his nose from being within the hellacious landmark. There wasn’t a single thing he liked about the place, and wanted so desperately to be set loose from his new prison. Yet, he knew that would not happen—not yet, anyways. Someday, perhaps, he would be presented with the perfect opportunity to escape, but for now he knew he needed to remain patient. His wounds needed to heal, and his strength regained. His pale eyes found their way to the woman’s face once more, a concoction of emotions swimming within them. She was an enemy, and that was a fact he would forever recognize.