The forest was a dangerous place for anyone to be wandering alone, let alone a tiny slip of a girl like her, but for some reason Sasha was always comfortable there. 

Though not common there were wolves and bears to worry about and even the prey animals like deer or elk could be a threat if they decided to fight instead of run. Not to mention to risk of getting lost and turned around, wandering for hours or days and never finding your way back. Or the risk of injuring yourself, far from home and with no one for miles around to hear you call for help; something as simple as stepping in a rabbit’s warren and twisting your ankle could be fatal, given enough time. Yet she could tread through it without fear; with respect, with caution, but not with fear.

It was a place she knew and that included knowing about its dangers, but the knowing made it familiar rather than scary.

But she wouldn’t be able to keep doing it forever. She couldn’t keep coming out here, with her father’s rifle and her father’s gun, to pick at berry bushes and gather up mushrooms like she was now. It wouldn’t be enough for much longer. It wasn’t even enough now, truth be told. She needed to find something else to live by.

The snap of a branch had her shooting to her feet, already taking a step backwards to run as her eyes scanned the trees. Between the boughs of a young pine, Sasha saw the antlers of a deer, a buck, and followed them down to its head and its eyes. They stared back at her, dark and intense. It was large, a full grown male, large enough that it would give enough venison to feed her and her mother for weeks; or feed them for a week and fill their pockets if they chose to sell some of it instead. Moving slowly, she raised her hand and wedged her thumb under the leather strap of the rifle hanging at her shoulder and carefully raised it up. Sasha pulled the rifle into her hands, one under the barrel and another at the butt. Her fingers found the trigger as she pulled the stock against her shoulder.

She waited.

She waited.

She waited.

The deer ran.

She waited.

She let out a breath, long and slow, and lowered the rifle.

What good was a hunter that wouldn’t even kill?

Sasha could track animals and find them within the forests better than almost any of the other hunters, because her father had been better than any other hunter and he had taught her well. But, it was always an unsure thing whether or not she could find work. Everyone had a family to feed, a livelihood to preserve; most people would not want to split their hauls with her unless it was absolutely necessary and most of the time they could find game without her help. It was only the newer hunters that worked with her frequently; the rest only called her when they were having trouble or when they wanted to find something in particular.

Something like a buck. Hunters always liked finding a buck. The antlers could sell for a lot; either as a trophy or, as some people thought, as medicine. They were valuable. Sasha pulled out a little notebook and a pencil from inside her jacket and made some quick notes; size, location, features. If she came here again, if someone [i]asked her[/i] to come here again she should be able to track it down. It was worth telling people about, just in case.

Maybe someone would be feeling generous.

Grabbing her basket of foraged fruit and mushrooms Sasha turned away and began to make her way back home. On the way she started thinking about other things she could do. Nothing that involved people too heavily, which ruled out most things, but maybe she could learn to make stuff; like a seamstress, or a carpenter. There was also the noticeboard, which was full of jobs, most of which were dangerous and most of which were asking people with experience; the kind of experience she didn’t have. That was always going to be a problem until she took a job though.

There was that one she’d seen. One that didn’t pay much, or anything at all really, but which would at least give her experience. Something to do with an apothecary?

It was experience, that was about as much as she could say in its favour, but if she did it then she could at least say she’d done [i]a[/i] job before when they asked her what experience she had.

Maybe she’d do it.