Chapter Text
The girl shot up and launched herself across the room at Hakoda. Teeth bared and claw-like fingers extended, she came at him like an animal. But for all her ferocity, she was weak and dehydrated, and it didn’t take long for her to end up on the floor, trapped in a bear-hug. Something between a scream and a growl escaped her as she thrashed against him in an attempt to escape his hold. He just squeezed tighter, so tight she could hardly expand her chest to breathe. It pained him to have to subdue her like this, knowing how terrified she must be, but he couldn’t let her run off. If he managed to find her again, there was a decent chance he would find her dead.
At last, she devolved into a limp, gasping puddle. He loosened his grip and she heaved in a lungful of air, only to cough it back up. He could have sworn some smoke came up with it. A trick of the shadows. With a grunt, he stood, and took a step back, half expecting her to lunge at him again. Instead, she curled into herself and began to shake. Her fingers tangled into her hair and dug into her skull as every muscle trembled with rigid tension.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” The words came out rougher than he intended, but she gave no sign that she even registered them. He took a tentative step closer and crouched down in front of her. A single cat-like eye glinted between her fingers, pupils pinpoint despite the dim lighting.
“We're just gonna have a talk. Can you do that? Can you talk to me?”
Her ragged breathing slowed, but her eye remained fixed on him. He didn’t know what to do. Frustration prickled under his skin.
“Look, kid, I’m not your enemy. I’m trying to help.”
A low, guttural sound escaped her. The tail end of it sounded almost like a laugh, skeptical, as if she were telling him, I’m not that stupid. Slowly, Hakoda lowered himself to his knees and sat back on his heels, and soft as he could manage, he gave her a gentle command. “Sit up.”
She didn’t move, but her breathing hitched, and he knew she’d registered the words. Her gaze flicked to the door, calculating how fast she could get out of the cabin. Hakoda leaned closer, hands braced on his knees. “That’s a bad idea, and you know it.” It seemed to strike a little sense into her. Some of the tension in her wiry frame faded, but she remained alert. Hakoda was walking on ice here, and one wrong step would crack it wide open. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just waited there, silently, until she slowly unfurled. As she sat up, she moved away, and leaned back against the wall. It was another protective measure, maybe instinctual, ensuring no one could sneak up on her from behind. There was a tactical quality in her movements, that of a fighter.
Something about her nagged at him, a vague familiarity he couldn’t place. He figured she just resembled someone he might have known once upon a time.
“What’s your name, kid?”
Her face twisted like he had just asked the most offensive question he could think of. Her mouth opened, something equally offensive about to bounce off her tongue, but then she slammed it shut. The fury in her expression briefly shifted to confusion, then to fear, and back to fury again.
Hakoda let out a heavy, exhausted sigh. This was about as productive as making conversation with an octosquid. “I’m Hakoda. I found you while I was out hunting.”
When she finally spoke, her voice was raw, scraping against her throat like a blade on stone. "I don’t need your help.”
He rubbed his temple where a headache was starting to form. “Kid, you passed out in a ditch. You needed help.”
Now that she had found her voice, a pompous confidence overtook her words. “Well, I don’t need it anymore, old man.” She stood and swayed, bracing a hand against the wall. Her dark hair shrouded her face, tangled and matted with caked mud. The moment she pushed off the wall, her knees buckled, and Hakoda made no movement towards her. He let her stagger a few steps towards the door before he blocked her path, arms crossed. She huffed, head lowered, knees trembling, shoulders hunched. Not only was her body weak, but her mind was, too. She wasn’t thinking straight.
“Where you gonna go, huh? If I let you out that door?” he pressed.
For a moment, she struggled to get any words out of her mouth, but she spoke with conviction. “Anywhere but here.”
“Tell you what,” he said, pausing to take a deep breath. “Stay the night. We’ll get some food in you. And in the morning, I’ll take you into town and put you on a boat. How’s that sound?”
Her fingers twitched at her side. The offer hung between them. It was too generous, too easy. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Creepy old man,” she taunted. “Do you make a habit of this? Keeping little girls prisoner?"
Hakoda let out an exasperated scoff. She was hardly a little girl, but still, the point stood. “Fine. I’ll take you into town right now. Just tell me where to send you.”
She reacted the same way as when he’d asked for her name—the flash of fear and confusion. He’d read it as distrust before. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He frowned and tilted his head as he leaned forward, trying to catch her avoidant, panicked eyes.
“Kid, I need you to help me out here. What were you doing in the woods? Is someone after you?”
The girl’s lips curled into something between a snarl and a smirk, her teeth flashing white against the grime on her face. “You’re pathetic,” she spat. “Pretending to care so you can pat yourself on the back. Is it getting you off, thinking you’re saving some poor, helpless girl?” She barked out a laugh, sharp and brittle, and swayed.
He took a deep, measured breath. He knew bait when he saw it. He didn’t bite. “You should rest—”
Her eyes darted to something past him, going wide. He whipped around, hand instinctively doing to the ivory dagger on his hip. He relaxed when he saw what the threat was. It was just Atka, his retired sled dog. Her fur was thick and shaggy, her movements slow with age. She trundled right past the girl and slumped onto the floor near Hakoda's cot without acknowledging either one of them.
“See,” Hakoda said, “Even Atka knows it’s time to sleep. Go sit back down. I’ll make us something to eat.”
The girl didn’t move. Her eyes tracked Atka’s lumbering path across the cabin floor, nostrils flaring slightly at the scent of damp fur. For a moment, Hakoda thought he saw something flicker in her expression, something other than rage or suspicion. But then her jaw tightened, and she squared her shoulders. "I don’t want your food."
“Fine.”
Without another word, Hakoda stepped out of the cabin and lit the campfire outside. He roasted a couple fish that he’d caught in a nearby stream, more than enough for two people. Even so, he put it all on one plate—the only plate he’d brought with him—and began eating by himself. He could feel the girl watching from the doorway of the cabin, and could almost hear her stomach growling, too.
Once he’d picked the bones clean from one fish and fed the head and tail to Atka, who’d eat anything, he left the other on the plate and set it on the porch railing while he dowsed the campfire. At some point, he turned to find it gone, and satisfaction bloomed in his chest when he caught sight of the girl within the shadows of the cabin interior, taking surprisingly delicate bites for someone who had been acting like a wildcat not an hour earlier.
The embers hissed as Hakoda kicked loose earth on top of the fire. He took his time, listening to the wind blow through the trees, partly to give himself space and partly to prepare himself for more of the girl’s biting comments. When he finally stepped back inside, she was perched on the edge of his cot, the empty plate clutched in her hands. She looked at him and scoffed in a way that made him feel utterly stupid, like somehow she’d tricked him into giving her food and convinced him it was his own idea. She tossed the plate on the ground without a care before she laid down on his cot. It was a stark contrast from before. He wasn’t sure he preferred her new brazenness, but at least she wasn’t trying to claw his eyes out.
With a sigh, Hakoda picked up the plate. It was made of wood. No damage done. He set it on the small table, then grabbed his pack to use as a pillow and settled down in the corner opposite the girl. Atka trundled over and laid down beside him, her side pressed against his.
…
Hakoda woke to the sound of choked, panicked gasps. Atka was already alert beside him, ears pricked forward. Across the room, the girl thrashed on the cot, limbs jerking like she was fighting invisible enemies. Her fingers clawed at the furs beneath her. Hakoda remained still, hoping her nightmare would end soon, but the longer it continued, the more restless he became. Finally, he rose and quietly padded over to her. He knelt beside the cot where she tossed, and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.
Her body seized under his touch, and she lashed out blindly. Her palm connected with his jaw, sending a sharp crack through the dark cabin. He recoiled, more startled than hurt, as the young woman scrambled back, the furs tangling in her legs. She heaved in adrenaline-fueled breaths, tense, like she was waiting for him to strike back. It disturbed him, how pale and ghostly her face was in the darkness. He didn’t move, save to rub his jaw.
“You’re going to take me back, aren’t you?” she accused.
He furrowed his brow, lips parted slightly as he massaged the spot where a bruise would likely form. Exhausted, he asked, “Back where?”
“Don’t play dumb,” she hissed. He waited for her to elaborate, but she said nothing. Her eyes darted towards the doorway, like she expected strangers to burst in and take her away at any moment.
“Do you even know?” Hakoda couldn’t keep the concern out of his voice. “Anything? Where you came from? Your name? What you were doing all by yourself in the woods?”
She snorted indignantly, but her facade was shoddy at best. “Of course I do. I don’t have to tell you.” She held herself stiffly, with her chin tilted up in defiance, but her hands still shook.
The longer he stared at her, the more pieces of the puzzle slid into place. His stomach churned hard as the weight of the situation sank in. She had nothing to cling to—no identity, no knowledge of friends or family or allies, no home, no money, no life. It was no use interrogating her about those things, so he asked a different question instead. “What was the nightmare about?”
Alarm flashed through her eyes, ashamed to have shown such weakness, before shrugging. “I was being chased by canyon crawlers.”
Hakoda hadn’t quite figured out what her tell was, but he knew she was still lying. Instead of pressing the issue, he braced his hands on his knees and stood with a soft grunt, hovering just a moment to make sure she wouldn’t bolt.
She didn’t say anything else. Hakoda didn’t wait for her to. He just shuffled back to his corner, laid down next to Atka, and closed his eyes.
He wasn't going to just dump this girl with the first people kind enough to take her in. He was going to figure out who she was.