Golden Glade the escape

It was only a matter of time. Every sound within the trees (be it animal-born or something more ephemeral, such as the wind or a change in the weather) made her react. She would open her eyes, pupils wide to aid her in the dark; or her ears would shift atop her head, her body would squish in to a tighter pretzel. But nothing ever came from those sounds. As far as the woman could tell her husband was not coming for her - but it was just the type of game he would play with her as compensation for flouting the rules; she couldn't trust the silence that enveloped the forest any more than she could trust her ears, her eyes, her breathing — something would summon him to her, she was certain.

But the figure that slunk through the snow wasn't him. She could tell as soon as she heard the steps. They were quick, precise, as if they had been through this area before. There was no weight to the motions the way she'd anticipate from her husband's size. Perhaps she was over-simplifying things. Perhaps too, he had found an ally in the dark of the wood and was now seeking her out secretly. It was not a trick Camilla would allow herself to fall for. She scrutinized every sound as the wolf came closer, and closer, and then, he stopped. He stood there, maybe tracking her or maybe just taking a break from whatever task that had occupied him...

And Camilla sat there, silent, staring, doe-like and trembling. She tried to condense herself in to some smaller shape — afraid, so, so afraid — and in the process of doing that, caught herself against a small branch. The tree trembled around her, the bushes shivering as something small dislodged and fell against the grove at her back. The awareness of this tense moment was everything to her — she was staring straight at the dark figure, fighting the urge to run from the spot she occupied as one last effort to remain safe and free. Honestly, she was too tired. She couldn't keep this up even if she'd been more of a fighter. All she could do was sit there and wait for the inevitable - expecting teeth and rage, for that's what men were to her now.