Francine obliged eagerly. She had been itching to show them her prize like a cat returning after a successful hunt and wasted no time in grabbing the sack, flipping it over, and shaking her catch free. The boy, still dazed from the whole endeavor, tumbled out of the sack in a sputtering heap. His clothes, a wrinkly plaid shirt underneath a pair of mud-stained overalls, were disheveled, and his flat cap, now crushed, was stuck under his arm. His face was redder than a tomato, his nose twisted and swollen like a misshapen squash, and a sizeable welt had left a large part down the middle of his messy, clay-brown hair. Francine would have considered him cute, had it not been for the beating.

Father’s grip tightened around his hands, but he kept himself cool. He circled the boy’s quivering body, inspecting him as a snake would study its prey. “And where did you find him?”

Francine turned to face the open clearing’s only entrance. A large hedge archway parted through the dense treeline, and down a path of smooth stones and yellowed leaves, the faint outline of a steady stream cut through the forest. “Just a little way past Gray Run,” she replied.

There were a few places where mortals were prohibited from entering, even for a quick rest. Many of them were banned because of their sacred hold to the Forestkind, both those that made up Francine’s family and a few other clans that weren’t. But others were simply because of the danger that they posed to those not familiar with it. Gray Run, the Wild Woods’ main river, was one such place. To those unfamiliar with it, it might have appeared as just a river that climbed down the forest’s mountain range and snaked its way south. But to the people who called the forest their home, it was a treacherous entity, capable of dragging down experienced swimmers and easily overpowering anyone that came too close. Not even Francine dared to go near its banks, but only because she didn’t want to get wet. She found it silly to fear a place of freshwater, but wasn’t too much of a fool to say it out loud. Out of respect, of course.

For this, she felt a sense of pride when Father’s eyes softened in understanding. Even he had to acknowledge that what she had done was warranted. For all he or anyone else knew, Francine very well saved the boy's life. That was enough to make her chest swell and her lips peel back in a triumphant grin.

Reluctantly, Father turned to address the crowd. “It appears that Francine did us a favor. The mortal’s life was threatened, so her moving him saved it. For that, her actions are pardoned.”

Groans and curse-filled grumbles passed through the crowd. Francine soaked them up with a twinkle in her eye, especially toward Brother Vasilis. His cheeks were so round and full of air, he looked as if he was on the verge of croaking.

But Father wasn’t done yet. He stepped forward, taking Francine by her shoulder and leaning down low enough for her to hear.

“Do not think that I will forget this, daughter,” he hissed. “When you return, the two of us will have a nice, long talk about your recent behavior. Understand?”

His grip tightened. His thumb dug into her collar, taking away her breath for a split second and making her choke. Catching her breath, Francine faced his cold gaze with the heat of her own, but under the threat of suffocation, her defiance was weak and petty. Eventually, her need for air outweighed her show of pride, and she tore away from him, rubbing her sore throat.

Father stepped back. “Good. Now, take the mortal away. You know where to find me.”

With that, the court broke away. Children, now bored from the whole endeavor, leaped from their seats to go find another form of entertainment. The Brothers, as usual, took to each other like a flock of squawking birds. Any stragglers parted Francine with either a scornful laugh or a sorrowful head shake. But Francine didn’t want their pity. She didn’t want to hear their consoles, or listen to how Father meant well with his discipline. She didn’t take the mortal as a way to shame her father. He was always talking about how little the mortals respected their land and all she wanted was to show him that she agreed. The boy was supposed to be a prize for the two of them to revel in. Yet she was still punished, and made a fool of for no reason.

There’s a reason, Francine thought as she watched Father disappear among the other departing satyrs. And for that reason alone, she took up her catch, slinking away with a fire stirring in her belly and a plan of redemption forming in her mind.