Rose lifted her skirts of different browns and greens as she stepped over a tree root. Her brown boots made crunching sounds in the fresh snow. A dark green hood that was attached to a thick cloak covered her dark brown hair.  Her breath could be seen in the air. She smiled, she loved when it was cold enough she could see her breath. She loved winter, there were days she hated it just as much as the others. Then there were days like this, where she was walking through the forest gathering herbs that only grew in the winter. She got to see the forest decorated in the snow. It was a pretty sight. It was as though the forest was a completely different place in the winter. It always went by too fast in her opinion, she loved how it felt as though time had stopped as she walked through the forest. Stopping by tree roots every once in a while to cut what she needed and stored it properly in her bag that rested on her back.  She could spend whole days outside, unfortunately the cold does get to her. Even with the layers of clothes. She’ll have to go home.

     Hours later

Rose had made it back to her house and begun to make soup for dinner. She had several shelves full of crushed herbs in little jars and vials. Dried herbs hanging around in varying places, she had to use a stool to get them down from their hanging spots. She hummed to herself as she added in more ingredients to her soup. Once she let that to cook over the fireplace. She grabbed her cloak and headed out to the barn to feed her horses. The sun was going down as she went to toss hay and grain to the horses she owned. She pets the bay horse’s nose in the first stall. The gelding had a thick hairy coat and a white star on his forehead. He was her favorite to ride. The grey gelding in the next stall nickers. Rose laughed. 

    “Okay, okay. I’ll pay attention to you.” She says still laughing as she pets the grey gelding. She doesn’t stay long and moves on to the only mare. She had bred her to a neighbor’s stallion and she’d have her foal any day now. Once she checked the mare was okay she began feeding. Humming to herself as she did. Then she heard a loud thud, she turned. Thieves were common, but no one ventured out here in this weather. With her pitchfork in hand she entered the last stall that was empty. There, in the back corner was a man. One hand clutching his side. He was bleeding, his long dark hair was in his face. But it was clear he was unconscious, his breathing came out in little puffs, looking like those dragons that blow smoke. He was tall, even if he was sitting on the ground. He had scars littered on his hands, he was a fighter clearly, everything about him gave it away. Aside from the sword at his hip. 

Rose was shaking with fear, who was he? Should  she help him? Or would that be unwise? She stepped closer, never letting go of the pitchfork as she moved the long hair away from his face. She had never seen a wanted poster, but he was bleeding. He could overpower her if he had the strength to. What if she helped him and he woke up and killed her? She could take his sword, but he’s still bigger than her. He could crush her with his hands without blinking. She decided she couldn’t just leave him to bleed out, or freeze to death. She’d just have to be careful and find a way to sedate him if needed. 

With great difficulty Rose managed to drag the big man in the house and into the spare bedroom. He was filthy now that she had a better look at him. Covered in mud, dried blood and the bedding she used for her horses. She frowned, but shrugged it off as she got to work taking the sword away from him first.  Setting all the way back in her kitchen. She began to take off any of the varying weapons he wore and placed them far enough away that if he woke she wouldn’t be in that much of danger. 

Within a few hours she had him cleaned, the bleeding from his wound stopped and stitched, the wound bandaged, in new clothes and tucked away asleep in the bed. She went back out to check her soup. Worry that the man would wake up and bust open the door to the back bedroom at any moment. 

It had been three days. The wound on the man’s torso had gotten infected and had given him a fever. She spent those days cleaning and dressing the wounds trying to get his fever down. It was lower than it had been. But he still wasn’t awake, she decided that if he wasn’t awake when she came in from feeding  that she’d have to start digging a grave. It would take her a while as the only digging she ever did was for her garden, it didn’t help that this man was big, any normal grave would be too small. 

Finally as she was coming in from feeding the horses, she went to the back room where the man was sleeping. Or he had been, light brown eyes stared back into her green ones. 

“Oh,” She squeaked, “ You’re awake, good. I was getting worried.” She stayed at the door, ready to run if needed. The man cleared his throat, it was low and hoarse from days without use. 

“I am. Why am I here?” He watched her with just as much caution. He had no weapon and it was clear she was a witch. How powerful he wasn’t sure, but he knew better than to trust a witch. Rose on the other hand wanted to laugh at such a question, he was here because he was bleeding out, why else? 

“I found you in my barn, passed out, freezing and bleeding. You think I was going to leave you.” She lifted her chin up a bit, showing him that she wasn’t afraid. They both were tense, ready to run in case a threatening move was made. 

“You thought bringing a stranger into your home was a good idea?” He scoffed, 

“What should I have done? Leave you to die then give a grave for the unknown man?” He sighed, even if he didn’t trust the witch he knew better than to argue. He was alive, that’s all that mattered.

“You’re right, I thank you for saving my life. My name is Warren, and you are?” She blinked, surprised. He changed the subject so quickly, but she was thankful she didn’t have to argue with him. 

“Rose.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Unsure of what to do or say. 

The days passed by quickly,  Rose and Warren slowly started to trust one another. Each day Warren healed and grew stronger. Their days spent together he taught her how to use his sword and the various daggers she had pulled off of him that first night. They had grown close, but Warren knew he couldn’t stay. The people who had given him that wound were still looking for him. Rose didn’t need to be involved in this, not at all.  

“I have to leave.” He told her at lunchtime. She looked up from her own food. She knew he couldn’t stay but she hadn’t realized how nice it was to be around people again. 

“Today?” She asked, he watched the defeated look on her face. This is why he worked alone, yet he stayed and now he was attached. 

“You knew I couldn’t stay,” He gets up and places a hand on her shoulder. 

“I have people after me, me staying here puts you in danger.” He grabs the sword by the kitchen door. He’d buy supplies in the town and head out from there. 

“Who knows, maybe I’ll see you again.” He states, refusing to look over his shoulder at her. With that he leaves. Determined to forget the odd witch woman in the woods.