Part 1.2

Leaving the hustle and bustle of the village centre behind.

The wooden handcart finally came to a halt at a slaughterhouse. Hanging in front of the meat stall were large cuts of meat, rabbits tied to a long bundle of rope, and even a cow that had already been slaughtered.

“Well, look who’s dragged their weary self over here?”

A voice caught The hunter’s and The daughter’s attention; they turned to look. An elderly man with silver-grey hair stood on the porch, his neatly trimmed white goatee highlighting his weather-beaten face.

With a wave of his hand, the two workers returned to the slaughterhouse before he stepped down from the porch.

“I’ve brought your goods, old friend,” The hunter said, taking a few steps forward.

“Saw it,” the elderly butcher owner said in a deep voice, his eyes glancing at the cloth and the imposing pair of antlers on the cart before settling on the hunter. “I didn’t think you’d manage to bag one at this time of year. The other hunters wouldn’t even dare go out without a group.”

“It was just luck.”

“Luck? Yet those thoughtless folk in the village call you a jinx—they’re all a bunch of cowards.”

The butcher chuckled, quickly stepping closer to examine the catch. The hunter smiled too, shaking his head slightly as he stood beside the wooden handcart, slowly inspecting the deer inside once more.

“Not at all, I have a priceless talisman; without this little hunter, I wouldn’t have managed a thing.” The hunter said, turning his gaze towards his daughter, who was still gazing at the hanging meat.

The butcher owner curled his lips into a smile once more. “I’d forgotten,” he said, his gaze softening as he stepped forward, his wrinkled hand patting the little girl on the head. 

“You’ve grown so much. I suppose having a father like this must be helping you grow faster.”

“N-No, it’s just... Dad always gives me delicious food.” the little girl said, feeling slightly self-conscious as the old man’s hand seemed reluctant to stop patting her head.

“If he’s being too strict, just tell me, and I’ll have a word with him,” he said, his face deliberately furrowing.

“It’s all right, uncle, I actually prefer it that way. And he’d never do that to me anyway.”

“Is that so? I see.” he said, laughing warmly.

Slowly, the butcher owner turned back to the hunter. “All right, pull the cart into the slaughterhouse; just let the little girl stay here and play.”

 “And don’t worry, my men aren’t like the lot in the village; they’ve no time for idle chatter,” he added.

The hunter smiled, looking somewhat awkward. His gaze drifted towards his daughter, who was still engrossed in her play, and he gave the side of the cart a gentle pat. “All right,” he said softly. “Don’t run about, sweetheart!”

“Yes!” the little girl replied before running off, quickly finding an empty spot on the veranda.

The wooden cart was pulled away by two workers, heading along the wide path to the side to go deeper into the slaughterhouse. 

“Could you spare me a bit of tenderloin this time?” The hunter said, following the cart as it slowly moved away.

“You don’t look like the sort who fancies a fancy meal, do you?”

“No, I just need to keep the little hunter over there happy.”

The butcher owner laughed as he too set off after the cart. “Hmm, for the little girl? Well, I’m happy for you to cut off as much as you like.”

“Just a little extra—she won’t eat that much..”

The men’s laughter rang out merrily, but it faded as the little girl’s small ears could no longer hear it, the wooden rabbit nestled securely in her lap. Brushing away the thin layer of snow from the wooden floor, the little girl sat down obediently, waiting patiently.

Her little hands fiddled with the wooden rabbit whilst her mind wandered to the delicious meals she would be eating that evening; a mischievous smile spread across her lips.

The little girl looked up, occasionally taking in the scene around her—the way the craftsmen moved, their chatter and laughter mingling with the sound of sharp knives being honed, so many sounds... How lively it was.

A cold breeze brushed across her face, accompanied by the sound of a door opening behind her.

“Thank you very much, sir! We shall certainly attend to your request as quickly as possible.” A flattering female voice rang out.

“Take your time, madam,” a deep, warm, calm male voice replied.

“I’m not the sort to rush people.”

“No, no, we don’t want to accept your help on such terms!”

A soft chuckle rang out. “Well then, I suppose I’ll have to trouble you.”

The woman’s flurry of thanks continued, before the loud slam of the door silenced the remaining chatter. Leaving behind a stifling silence.

The sound of heels tapping on the wooden floor—steady, then suddenly silent.

“...Do we have a little guest here?” The man’s voice rang out once more, finally noticing The daughter’s presence. Slowly, she looked back.

A young man came into her view. 

His clothes were neatly pressed, a warm, earthy brown that looked both cosy and expensive. 

His hair trembled slightly in a cold breeze, whilst the deep, dark eyes on his slender face were fixed on the little girl.

“Hello, Hello? is anyone home?...” Those deep eyes drooped slightly. But then the corners of the young man’s lips turned up into a smile.

 “You shouldn’t be sitting on the steps, little one; you’ll be getting in their way,” he said gently with a chuckle, glancing towards the workers chatting nearby.

“But it doesn’t seem as though they mind much...”

The little girl snapped out of her daze. “I-I was just waiting...!” she replied hurriedly.

The young man nodded slightly. “Waiting, are you?” he said, glancing at his pocket watch. 

She watched as he tucked the watch back into his coat. “Well, we’re quite alike, then.”

“Alike?”

A slight nodded. “Yes, I’m waiting here too; my carriage is taking its time.”

He said, before unexpectedly sitting down on the steps of the porch, at a discreet distance. His slender hands idly smoothed the hem of his coat.

“I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you.”

“My name is Lugtis Guillaume.”

“Lugtis, if you like,” the young man said, his dark eyes half-closed.

“Would you like to have a chat?”

The girl didn’t reply; she simply watched as the young man’s dark eyes widened and then drooped once more.

Lugtis paused. “Hmm, it seems you don’t really want to talk, but that’s all right.”

“I’m not much of a hand with kids myself,” He said slowly with a wry smile, letting out a heavy sigh... 

“No!... I'm,” the daughter said hurriedly, a touch of nervousness in her voice. “...I’ve been told not to talk to strangers—they might be bad people...” 

“Mr. Lugtis...” she continued, her hands on the wooden rabbit relaxing slightly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Is that so? I’m very pleased to meet you too.” A chuckle escaped Lugtis. “And I’m sorry if I made you think I was a bad person.”

“I just want to have a nice chat to pass the time.”

“Well... you do seem a bit suspicious, and eccentric.” The little girl said, blinking a few times, in contrast to Lugtis’s silence as he listened.

“Oh... I’m not all that surprised...” he said, letting out another heavy sigh, though his lips remained slightly turned up.

“The kids usually run away as soon as I’m nearby. But you’re not like that.”

“You’re a ‘brave’ little girl, aren’t you?”

“Really?” the little girl replied. “But I don’t find you that scary.”

Another chuckle. “Every child sees things differently; perhaps those children think I’ll take their food or toys. But you're the special.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” The girl couldn’t help but smile slightly. “Mr. Lugtis, are you waiting for the carriage?”

“Yes, is there something you’re wondering about?” he replied.

"It’s just... I rarely see a horse up close; I’ve heard they’re very expensive and beautiful.”

“I was wondering what they’d be like up close.”

Lugtis nodded thoughtfully. “As someone who’s seen plenty of horses, I’ll let you in on a secret,” he said as she listened intently. “They’re not nearly as beautiful as you imagine.”

The girl froze, her eyes fluttering a few times in confusion. “Why is that...?” she asked, puzzled by Lugtis’s sudden silence.

Lugtis nodded again. “It’s a sweet, innocent thought when you only see them from a distance,” he said, glancing briefly at the little girl. 

“When you get up close, you’ll see how pitiful they really are,”

“They’re so big and strong, yet every day they have to pull carts and endure the lash of the whip when they disobey.” He tapped a finger lightly on the wooden floor. “And they’ll still obediently do as they’re told, you know?”

“Because in the end they’ll get to rest and have their fill—how ironic.”

The daughter blinked, her eyebrows raised slightly. “They’re... really hard-working, aren’t they?”

Lugtis let out a low chuckle. “You could say that.”

Slowly, he glanced. “But I’m rather curious—it seems you’re quite fond of that toy, aren’t you?”

The little girl started slightly, her gaze instinctively turning to the wooden rabbit in her hands. “Oh, it’s a rabbit!” she said, holding it up a little higher. “I love rabbits; they’re so cute.”

“It’s very beautiful and intricately carved.”

The little girl smiled. “Yes! My dad carved it for me. He spent a lot of time on it for me.”

Lugtis listened, a smile still on his lips, but with a hint of tenderness. “Your dad really does love you; it looks just like you,” he said, his dark eyes widening slightly. “But wouldn’t you be happier if you had a real rabbit?”

Another tap of a finger on the wooden floor. “You could stroke their soft fur whilst playing, train them to obey you, and watch them every day.”

As he spoke, he gazed into the distance. “It would become a friend, a truly fascinating pet.”

But then, Lugtis paused as an innocent laugh rang out. His gaze slowly glanced over.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” the girl replied, a small smile still lingering on her lips. “But I think I don't need a real rabbit.”

“I’ve got this toy.”

“I can’t stroke it, but I can feel it.”

“I don’t need to look at it because it’s always right here with me.”

"And I have my Dad!"

“For me, that’s enough,” she said in an innocent voice. “As long as I have this toy and I’m with Dad, I’m already happy.”

As if frozen in place, his finger paused

Lugtis fell silent. His face betrayed a look of surprise

The deep, dark eyes could do nothing but gaze at the sparkling glints in those innocent eyes, as the echo of that carefree laughter rang out, almost drowning out the creaking of the door behind them...

The hunter stepped out with a broad, beaming smile.

His hunting rifle slung naturally across his back. In his hands was a rather large cloth bag full of meat. “Have you been waiting long for me, my sweetheart?” the hunter said in a warm, deep voice as his gaze quickly turned towards his daughter

Almost immediately, his daughter jumped up and rushed towards her father. “My dinner!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling, as she took the bag of meat from his hands.

The hunter smiled. “Are you satisfied now? We’ll have a delicious dinner tonight, then.”

"I love you, Dad."

The little girl nodded vigorously, striding quickly down the porch with the bag of meat in her hand. Her mind was already racing with ideas for tonight’s meal as she ran towards the wooden handcart that had just been brought out of the slaughterhouse. The hunter could only smile as he watched her, slowly taking each step away from the porch.

“You’ve got a rather spirited daughter.”

The hunter paused, his body swivelling sharply as his gaze finally fell upon the young man who had just sat up. His eyes narrowed as he watched the young man nonchalantly brush the snow from his clothes.

A deep chuckle and Lugtis’s deep, dark eyes fixed on the hunter.

“It’s been a long time.” A high-pitched voice rang out. “I hope you haven’t forgotten the debt you owe.”

“Hunter.”

The hunter’s eyes widened, his muscles tensing as his gaze locked onto the young man. The gun strap tightened under his firm grip, his face tensing as his eyebrows knitted together.

His teeth ground together.

The two pairs of eyes locked, neither backing down as the tension drowned out all sound around them...

“Don’t you dare,” the hunter said, the creases on his forehead deepening.

“I’ll kill you too if that happens.” 

Slowly, the hunter turned once more. He directed his gaze towards the wooden cart before beginning to walk towards it. His eyes were sharp, and the knuckles on his fingers had turned completely white as he walked.

His back receded into the distance, leaving the other man’s eyes still following him.

Observing.