The creek gurgles in Arai’s ears as she absorbs in the gorgeous day’s sunbeams. On any day with less of a late-nighter before it, Arai would have been up early enough to watch the sunrise. Today she has to settle for the mid-morning sunshine.

Mornings always make Arai’s life seem so peaceful and easy. She thinks about the day’s responsibilities. Her crew is on hunting duty today and will not be allowed to “guard” tonight. Well, it could be worse, Arai actually likes hunting a lot; it tests and strengthens her skills.

Just a little longer, and then she’ll get started with her day. Just a little more time in her illusion of paradise.

***

Cross from tree to tree, feeling free of all but the now, my hunt is going well. The deer that I caught unaware is staggering on against the impossible a little ways ahead of me. Jumping a branch, I catch up to the deer as it is brought to its knees. I can see that its hope has faded away during the chase and it has stopped fighting for life. I end the suffering and carry what was once a deer to the community larder for preparing. That deer makes it ninety-nine that I’ve killed this year.

I know this mountain area I’m climbing better than anywhere else. If I had been forced to go one more day without hunting here, I may have gone crazy. Hunting is kind of like a day off for me; I hang out in the woods and slay an animal once in awhile to bring back to the kitchens. I won’t stop hunting just because I’m a girl either. There are those who say men are the dominant gender; it’s those people who can’t keep me in “my place.” To those closed minds, I’d like to point out that I’m not typical; I’m tougher than most and could probably beat anyone who has any objections to where “my place” really is- working alongside the men, with my crew.

“Arai, I’m so glad to see you! How’s the hunt going? Wow, that’s a lot of venison!” Matthew, the head chef, is always happy to see me, because I bring in so much raw cooking materials. He never knows when to just shut up. But luckily the small talk only lasts as long as it takes me to carry the deer inside, which isn’t long. Then I am free to roam the wood, a threat only to targets of my deadly bow.

I start heading to my forest retreat, this secret clearing ringed by ancient trees that I haven’t even told Sarah about. My back has started bugging me again and the only cure I have found is there. No one is tailing me, so I flee there quickly and shimmy through the only weakness in the tree line, over halfway up one especially old tree.

The instant I’m safely within, I release my wings. Keeping my wings a secret may be a smart choice but oh, is it a pain in the neck (or back in my case) at times. That cure I was talking about- partly it is just letting the wings out, but the other part is the circular pond, twice a man’s height across, in the center of the clearing. As I slip into the pond, I can almost feel the filth and loose feathers floating away. After I’ve washed off the stress that has accumulated since I was last here, I collect any feathers that are floating in the seemingly always pure water.

As my therapy session is wrapping up, I glide out of my secret paradise towards home. I snag a pheasant as my last catch of the day before arriving at the cavern entrance.

***

The sun has just set and I’m just finishing my custom arrows by the fire light. Over the years I have found my own feathers to add a swiftness like no other to my arrows, so I use the ones collected earlier to replenish my depleted quiver. As I place the last arrow into said quiver, a particularly rowdy group comes into view. I recognize some as major trouble, thus I get up to leave. A moment later I’m thinking that maybe I shouldn’t have, because the motion draws one of the rougher men’s attention.

“Ay mizzie whas you hurry? Ours compony no goods fer ya?” The pack around him back him up with a variety of sneers. In an instant those of my men present are drawing weapons; the fastest, a dagger thrower, clips the speaker’s left ear. It doesn’t seem to even rattle the fool. “Thes ere area’s fer tru men, no lil girs. Ya relie neet tum to fend ya?” The idiot should have just shut up while he had the chance. The instant he finished talking, an arrow whizzed past his head leaving a matching mark on his right ear.

“You should already know the answer to that.” And with that I walked off.