The smell of cinnamon and chocolate mingled with the deep scents of the forest, the decaying fungi, soft dirt, the stink of iron from the lantern and sword, the scent of fear, all of them mingled clouding the young woman's head adding to the icy pain and grogginess clawing at her mind. The tree's towered threatening to fall in on her; even though she was on solid ground the lurking sensation of falling still clung to her senses as she desperately reached out to the light blurring her vision. A soft whimper of pain and despair slipped from her pale lips as she could hazily see three figures covered in an eerie purple glow gave birth to thoughts of phantoms and spirits. 

The boy's tears and cries were sharp as knives, cutting through the fog of her mind; piercing the fear ensnaring her thoughts and stoking the fire in her breathing life into the dying embers. 

Aslynn didn't know how long she had laid there, or how she got there but she knew that she could lay there for much longer. Her father would never stand for her whimpering and languishing over her own pain and new found fate while someone else was in danger. Her hand scraped against the ground feebly inches from the lantern's wire handle; the movement sent pain jarring up her arm, rattling her teeth and drawing another whimper from her. Gritting her teeth, stilling their chattering she forced herself to reach out clawing desperately to hook the lantern drawing it closer to herself. The soft warmness of it seemed to ease the pain tearing its way through her body; even the pain of having to learn to wield hammers and weapons twice her size, the pulling and tearing of her muscles into shape would pale in comparison. 

This new pain seemed like it cut straight into her soul, and the little boy's cries continued to drive the pain deeper.

Focusing on her breathing she started counting to five between each breath before blowing it out slowly, a technique taught to control her breathing learning to time the release with the strike of the hammer; now it had become an old habit she fell back on when she became overwhelmed. Slowly the pain was devoured by the need to protect the small child, at least she thought it was a child. Her vision was still blurry but none of the three figures looked tall enough to be considered an adult, a soft grinding could be heard from her jaw as it clenched her teeth together in anger. A quick shake of her head dispelled the tears welling up in her eyes, strands of red hair flashed with the movement echoing her sentiment of anger and pain, angry at those who would bully someone smaller than them, angry at herself for not being strong enough. 

Another breath of air, in and out slowly reigning her emotions and her thoughts back in. 

It would do her no good to cry about it, slowly she rolled over listening to the others berate the little boy speaking something of territory. The word seemed odd to the blacksmith as she moved carefully not wanting to rush and over extend herself, her small town was long gone. She knew that, this place, this [i]forest[/i] was new but old. The scent of the place spoke of life, but there was a lingering scent of death of something needing to be reborn. She bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain, her left side felt like it was on fire she tenderly pressed on it cussing slightly under her breath as the pain spiked. It seemed that whoever or whatever caused her to come to this place wasn't very gentle with its delivery. She herself didn't understand her thoughts or knew what to do but there was one thing she could do. 

She could save the boy.

Aslynn focused on that thought drawing strength from it, steadily she rose to a kneeling position, the lantern hanging gingerly from her left hand swinging lightly. There was a numbness to her limbs that spoke she had only been laying there long enough for her nerves to be put on edge, her motions slowly started to massage life back into them. The soft brush underfoot crunched with the added weight as she hesitantly stood up fully, wobbling slightly she used her right hand to support her side. If she had the time later, she would need to at least wrap her ribs to keep her movement's from worsening the injury. 

[i]'Heh, seems like I paid attention to mother's lectures after all...'[/i]

The thought of home rang hollow as her thoughts turned to her dad and to her work, she knew he would return to the shop without her there and a crease appeared on her face, a telltale sound she was worried. 

The kids wailing cut through her thoughts again drawing her back to her current situation.

She mentally chided herself for being so absent minded before setting her sights on the two strange children wearing masks, another oddity to this place another note filled away. 

[b]"Hey!"[/b] 

Her voice rang out sharp, a displeased frown on her slender face, even with her apparent small build she towered over the trio. The light of the lantern glimmered happily shinning dully off a rusted sword laying in the flower bed a few steps, it also illuminated the rope tying the armor clad boy to the tree. His look of hurt and tear stricken face only added to the anger fueling her movements; taking the slight window startling them created she moved for the short sword with fluid motions, her side screamed in protest as the lantern swung wildly along with her. The soft leather wrapped around the hilt gave slightly forming to her grip, another step placing her between the boy and the pair of older children. 

[b]"I don't know what he's done, and I don't care. People aren't animals. We. Don't. Tie. Them. Up." [/b]

Her last words were pointed and followed by a slight growl as the blade shone in the light in a wide arch slicing cleaning through the rope before clattering to the ground by the tree. Her right hand quickly returned to her side, short gasp of pain lacing her breath causing her to hunch over slightly; the knuckles on her left hand had gone white from grasping the lantern forcefully. Even with the pain written across her face, her eyes blazed with an unspoken anger, anger at them, anger at being in this place, anger at herself, anger at what her stubborn father would do in her absents. 

It seemed strange that such a small girl could contain so much anger.