Once she got close enough, the beast went to bite her. The second it launched itself at her, Sequoia jerked back, just out of reach of the monster. The fact that she was so close to this thing, that she nearly got bitten, possibly killed, filled her with adrenaline and thrill, she wanted to experience again. She shuffled closer to it, close enough to feel its breath on her face. It lunged at her, dislocating its jaw wide enough that it would be able to eat an adult whole. Its breath smelt of rotten flesh and blood, its teeth were pointed, like daggers. The sight was disturbing and Sequoia soon regretted pushing her luck. She barely managed to survive the attack but at the expense of her foot. The pain she felt was excruciating, it was burning and searing, it sent shockwaves through her leg up to her stomach and to her head. Her stomach twisted, her head felt like it would explode. Her nerves begged for relief. She clenched her teeth in an attempt to block out a scream. The place that she never thought or cared about suddenly disappeared, only leaving a horrifying and nauseating sight. 

She was frozen in place for what felt to her like hours, unable to think. Her hand moved, almost instinctively, it landed where her foot once was, pressing down on it in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Once her mind started to clear and she gathered her thoughts, ripping a part of her dress off and placing it on the stump. She stayed there, unable to make a decision on what to do. She tried to remember anything she learnt about injuries, afterall her parents used to be knights in the capital, so surely they would have told her a story that ended with an injury. Eventually, she remembered something about tying a cloth around another knights arm to stop bleeding. With that in her mind, she ripped another piece of her clothing off and tied it around her leg, counting out loud one to four repeatedly to combat the pain. It soon began to calm her, keeping her grounded and not succumbing to pain. She started scanning the area, looking for any other threats or a safe place for her to hide in. 

Her eyes darted around and noticed a building close by. Despite it being half collapsed, Sequoia knew that it was not only safer than being in the open streets but that a well studied couple lived there, so hopefully there would be something to assist her. She pulled herself towards some debris, putting more distance between herself and the hunger crazed demon. Each time she crawled, her legs got cut and scratched, the pain sent shivers up her spine, blending with the pain from her stump. She continued to count from one to four once again. The debris from the buildings dug into her palms and knee, spots of blood started to drip, it took a few minutes to get to the debris, resting for a moment, allowing herself to catch a breath and check on her wounds. She soon continued, she leant her back against it and grabbed the top. She heaved herself up, her breathing became heavy, her jaw clenched together, eyes shut tight, nose scrunched up. Once she managed to stand up she hopped, holding onto the debris until there was none left to hold, she reached the end and started to move without a clutch. On her second hop she fell to the ground. She winced at the shock, the stones, pebbles and small bits of debris embedding themselves into her. She tried to stand back up but struggled to keep her balance. She tried over and over again, but each time she took a few jumps, she would fall back down. She soon gave in, deciding to crawl through the uprooted street.

The crawling felt like it would never end. Each time she placed a knee down, stones would dig deep into her skin. The streets, stained by the dried blood, now complemented by Sequoia’s. Blood seeped underneath each hand and knee, she trembled as she forced herself to continue, hoping this torture would end soon. The inability to walk made Squoia scared and anxious. Her eyes darted around, observing every little thing, from the dead bodies and limbs scattered around, to the cracks in each building. Every sound scared her, even the sounds from the returning birds and the crumbling buildings. She constantly looked back at the half dead harpy that did this to her, making sure that it was still stuck there, that it wasn’t coming for the rest of her.

She eventually reached the half-crumbled building. Despite the destruction and ruin-like state, it was still obvious that it was once a beautiful building, at least on the inside. The outside was generic, just like any other building that could be found. The exterior being made of stone and wood, the roof being thatched, there would have been two stories and a small front garden. The interior would have been the complete opposite. When entering you would have been given one of three places to go. To the left was a door that led to the living room, in front would have been a door that led into a kitchen and to the right would have been a staircase. In the hallway high quality wallpaper, light grey in colour, would have been plastered across the walls and the floors made of wood. In the living room, one of the walls was covered in a crimson wallpaper and the remaining three were white. A stone fireplace was mounted against the crimson wall. Family pictures placed carefully on top of the fireplace. Against the wall next to the fireplace was a large bookshelf, lined with books of different genres and materials. Some were fictional books about a world where no magic existed, where people created objects that could reach above the skies and where buildings could get tall enough to be able to touch the clouds, there were also non-fiction books and research papers. In the corner would have been a sofa, cream in colour and of the highest quality. The wall opposite the fireplace would have had a large window. One painting would have adorned the walls, the paintings may have been a serene landscape or a family portrait, either way, the most novice eye would have been able to see the painter's skill, rivalling even the greatest artists the world had ever known. However, that was before. Now, the entrance, once elegant and welcoming with its three pathways, now reduced to a singular path. The walls that had once shown off the finest wallpaper, now mostly caved in. The air that would have been warm and welcoming was now stifling and heavy with dust. It was now only a shadow of a memory of a once lively and welcoming place.

Sequoia leant against the doorframe, stroking the remnants of the previously well cared for wood. Her eyes darted around the hallway, checking for any possible dangers or anything that could be of help. The air was heavy with dust, making it difficult to breathe. She rested for a moment, taking in what happened. It wasn’t long before she came to the conclusion that she needed revenge. Not for the destruction caused by those things or for them killing the people she had known for her whole life, but for taking her foot. However, before she could get her revenge she had to find any kind of book to help her. 

She shuffled along to the only room she could go, the living room. The room, once a place of warmth, of learning and studying, now nothing more than a relic, much like the rest of the building. The bookshelf once showing off the intellect of the couple living here, now collapsed under the debris and most of the paintings, once hung proudly, now nowhere to be seen underneath the rubble.

She knelt next to the fallen shelf and the books scattered underneath and around it. Her hand moved towards one of the few free books. The book had multiple colours spread across the cover. Reds, pinks, purples and oranges all merged together to give a cheerful impression. Written in bold letters were the words Tyoskyul tythyepkyul epkyultnytdy. Although she didn’t know what it said she found it intriguing. She wanted to delve into the pages and get lost in it. She didn’t know why but it was a deep temptation that she had to overcome. She placed it gently next to her, planning to take it with her. The next book that caught her eye was one that was partly trapped underneath the bookcase. The blurb of the book was the only side that was exposed, despite the tattered state, Sequoia could read parts of it. Basic forst aid. Her eyes studied the room, looking for anything that could lift the bookcase even for just a moment.

After a few moments of pondering, she decided to use a leg from the nearby sofa. Gripping it firmly, she tried to wedge it beneath the wooden shelf, but the piece was too thick to fit underneath. She placed the leg on the floor. Her eyes once again scanned the area and noticed a piece of brick that seemed to have been from the fireplace. She crawled across the floor and latched her hands around the brick, although it wasn’t as thick as the chair leg, it was still large in its length.  

Sequoia slid the debris under the bookcase, it was just small enough to fit underneath but also big enough to raise it up slightly. The book was now in her reach. Her hand glided over the cover till it reached the edge, when her fingers slipped under and folded it over. What was presented to Sequoia was an index. The page was torn in various places, making it difficult to read. Her eyes flicked through the words that were readable until they landed on the word infections. She took a glance at the page and flipped through the book until she got to the right page. To prevent infections, you need to stop the bleeding, alleviate the pain and lastly prevent infections. She skipped through the first two sections landing on the last one. First, when preventing infections, make sure to clean the wound with clean water, preferably boiled and cooled. Antiseptics such as alcohol should than be applied. use the cleanest material available and boil or flame-sterilise it to dress the wound. Lastly keeping the wound dry and clean by covering it is of the upmost importance. Reading through this Sequoia knew that there wasn’t much she could do, but still wanted to try something. She took hold of both the books and crawled her way out of the building. 

She went to the house next door. This one was in a slightly better state. This house would have been a standard house both inside and out, with the same exterior and layout as the previous house. From what Sequoia could tell, only the roof had been caved in. She dragged her body through the front door and took a look around. The hallway was mostly intact, with only a few holes here and there, but they were most likely the results of rats or mice. The walls were white and made of wood, the flooring was a carpeted light brown. There weren’t any pictures hung on the walls nor were there any decorations, almost as if no one lived there. In a sense, the building was the complete opposite of the previous. However, none of this mattered to this girl. In her situation, all she cared about was her survival. She remembered the layout of the previous house. In that house, the living room was to the left and the kitchen would have been to the front. Based on what she could tell, the layout was the same in both houses. To check, she pushed the door to the left open, and as she predicted that room turned out to be a living room. She didn’t bother to look around properly, opting to move forward. She pulled the handle down and gently pushed open the door. The floor was made of black tile contrasting with the white walls. The sink opposite of the entrance and the light brown counters lined the walls, like the rest of the house that Sequoia had seen, the kitchen looked largely untouched. Crawling across the floor to the sink, she hauled herself up. Sequoia ripped off a part of her top and turned on the warm water tap, hoping that the tap would still work. By some kind of miracle, water started to run. She held the cloth under the stream, making sure it was soaked through before she wrung out the dripping water. She placed it over the top of her wound to clean it. The sting resurfaced the pain that Sequoia was desperately trying to suppress. A sharp breath escaped from between her lips as she dug around the limb. Debris and dirt got dislodged as she rubbed the cloth around the sensitive area. She started to count under her breath, keeping herself distracted and grounded. Once finished, Sequoia opened the book and skimmed the pages, searching for the next step. 

After rereading the section, Sequoia hunted down anything, whether it be alcohol or something else that could be used. She opened every draw and cupboard but to no avail. She thought for a moment, considering if there could be anywhere else that could shelve anything she could use. Before deciding to move to the living room she grabbed a hold of a bagthat she had spotted. Sequoia made her way to the living room knowing that there was an extremely slim chance that alcohol or antiseptics would be stored there. Dragging herself through the doorway, the girl took note of the lifeless state of the room. It was unusually clean, oddly empty, apart from a few chairs and a fireplace. It was eerie how clean but untouched the whole house was, but the living room was the most eerie of them. She forced those thoughts and feelings aside and investigated the room farther. Despite the lack of decorations or lack of furniture, she found some interesting things. One of which was floorboards hiding a secret compartment. Meats, furs and seeds stacked inside of the compartment. Sequoia’s stomach started to growl relentlessly at the sight of food, after all it had been close to a day since she had a proper meal. However, the way the objects were stored made her realise that the stash was for the festival at the end of the month. Wanting to respect the dead and the ritual, she left it untouched, hoping for them to get a proper burial. Afterall, without being honored, they may never become a magical beast and instead become a harpy.  

With a heavy heart, Sequoia placed the floorboard back over the compartment. She looked under the chairs and in the fireplace but found nothing. She was about to give up but remembered when the well studied couple told her about how many plants in most gardens can be used as medicines. She took hold of the bag, putting her leg in it. She crawled out into the back garden and looked for any plants that she recognised. Crawling around the unkempt garden, she noticed a plant. It had dark green and feathered leaves, a flat top made of a crown of white flower heads, with yellow and pink-white florets. Once her gaze landed upon the flowers, Sequoia believed that these plants were the ones her parents talked about. She didn’t know how to apply the plants properly, many different ideas went through her head. Perhaps she had to steep them in water? She simply didn’t know. Not giving it any more thought, she ran them under water to wash away any dirt and grime and rubbed it over the wound. She hoped this would be enough.