The loud noise of the tavern grated on Issbelle's nerves. The men all talking loudly; boasting or singing or just plain making racket. The wooden mugs being slammed down onto the tables or bar. And I'm the middle of it all, was her fiancee, Jean. He was one of the loudest. The other was his friend, or as Isabelle liked to call him, his sidekick, Pierre. 

"Who's the best hunter in town?" Came Jean's booming voice. 

"Jean!" Came newly everyone's reply. 

"And the best looking?" He asked as he struck a pose, showcasing his physique.

"Jean is!" 

Isabelle sat at her table, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Honestly, she couldn't stand the man. Although he wasn't horrible to look at, they shared no similar interests. It was her father who had urged her to marry him, if only for a better life. There were plenty of girls that wanted him, but she was the only one he wanted. Why, she wasn't real sure. She didn't think herself any prettier than the others. Smarter maybe, but what man wanted a smart woman these days? 

As the crowd continued to fawn over Jean, Isabelle looked out the tavern window at the bleak weather. It was cloudy, and dead leaves blew about the village. Winter would be coming soon. The warmth of the tavern, and cool weather outside suddenly reminded her of something. Her father. Perking up, she continued to look outside, waiting to see if he would be arriving soon. 

He he left 5 days ago to go to the village. It was a day and a half's ride there. He said he'd be there for a few days, then come back home. He should have been back by now. Yet, he wasn't. Was he ok? Was he delayed, or did he just decide to stay longer? Isabelle but her bottom lip, then turned her attention back to the ruckus in the tavern. His absence went unnoticed by the townsfolk, but not to her. He was all she had. She prayed he was ok.