The huge wolf bared its teeth and growled at the young shepherdess. The hair on his back stood up on end, and his sharp teeth snapped at her whenever she got to close. He already had one of her arrows stuck in his side, but she hadn't shot it well enough for it to hurt him very much. Eventually it would start slowing him down, but she didn't have that kind of time. He had dragged off too many of her lambs to continue living around here. And she knew he wouldn't go away even if she asked politely. So she picked a fight, and now it was death for one of them.
    Boss, her biggest sheepdog, was crouched next to her, watching the wolf. He was ready for Quarria's command.
    "Let's go!" The wolf started at the shepherdess' words, and Boss lunged in. As soon as the beast turned to get at the dog, Quarria jumped in and wipped out her dagger. She stabbed it as hard as she could into the wolf, right behind his front legs. He yelped and turned as quick as lighting on her, his teeth snapping. Boss desprately grabbed ahold of the scruff of his neck, turning the wolf with some difficulty off of his mistress. Quarria punched her staff as hard as she could into his shoulder, loostening her dagger. The beast swayed for a second, then fell, with Boss on top of him. Now the sheepdog had an equal advantage to finish this fight. The two rolled over and over, and Quarria's dagger was yanked out. She picked it up and saw that the wolf wouldn't survive the night. She had gotten him in the right place. Boss would only make his pain shorter to bear.
    Quarria followed the two down another hill and into some trees. When the wolf stopped fighting, Quarria called her dog off of him. She approached cautiously, then drew her bow slowly and shot an arrow into him at point-blank range. He struggled for only a second, then breathed his last.



    The rain had finally ceased falling on the mountainous countryside, but the grey clouds remained. As the sun went down it didn't show off its usual array of colors. The lighter grey spot in the sky only slipped silently down in the western horizon, leaving behind it a cold world.
    The slim form of a young woman sat huddled by her fire just inside a shallow cave. Her only company was a sheepdog, who alternated between watching her and drifting off in sleep. She stared into the fire with her dark blue eyes, her mind and heart obviously somewhere else.
    Her mother's voice came back to her, even though her child's mind had forgotten the face that went with the voice. It was a soft cadance, although her brain had scarred it so that Quarria couldn't think of it without remembering sorrow.
    "Remember." it said. Remember what? Her mind scrambled for a second, then she thought of it. "Remember always to trust God. No matter what happens in your life, God will take care of you." She saw her father's face. His eyes were completely at peace as he smiled. "No matter what." he said. His voice was deep, reassuring.
    The fire cracked and popped as the young shepherdess threw another piece of wood on it. Then came the day when it was all over. Rumors of the invading King Illode had been circulating for months, but no one ever thought he'd get over the Merlore Mountains. She remembered thinking that it was all a bad dream when the brown-clad troops had marched into her town. No warning, only destruction. The new government promised to give the Umbar people the same freedoms they had before, but it was empty words.
    Their family had gone to worship with fellow Believers that evening. That was the last place they went together. The soldiers came and took everyone away. The children and the adults were seperated. Everyone over sixteen in the church was considered an adult--and condemned to die the following dawn.
    "This is what happens to everyone who is a Christian." King Illode himself had come to watch the execution by fire. He said this while watching the the adults, who were being herded into the flames. Their children were forced to watch below him.
    "I'd rather be with them than here." Quarria remembered saying to her cousin Gentar, who was fifteen. He nodded. They both had tears running down their faces as they cried softly. She searched for her parents in the crowd awaiting execution, then found them. When it came to their turn they waved to everyone as if only leaving for a short while.
    "Our God conquered death. We are only going to a better place, going Home." her father shouted.
    "Praise our merciful God!" the other Believers shouted. Her father's words seemed to strengthen them, and they stood up straighter.
    "We pray for you who are left behind and look forward to seeing you soon!" now her mother spoke up. She looked out over the crowd and finally found Quarria and Gentar. "We love you both!"
    "Trust God and remember what we've taught you!" her father added. Then the guards pushed them forward, and they gave to the pressure. Quarria screamed and hid her face in Gentar's tunic. He picked her up and a minute later they left. No one stopped them.

    Now the young woman stared into the flames. The damp cave around her seemed to materialize again. The fire cast an orenge glow on her tanned face, which from a distance looked emotionless. But alternating emotions crossed over her lowered eyes. Sorrow, regret, and longing. A desire for what could have been if her parents had lived and raised her. She blamed God for what happened to them, then she felt distain for herself because of the faith of her parents.
    She didn't remember a lot of what happened after her parents were killed. Gentar took her in and worked for awhile in the city. Then the opportunity to move out and be a shepherd came, and he took it, providing for Quarria all along the way. He had told her once that between the ages of five (when her parents were killed) and ten she had a lot of wierd quirks that nobody but Gentar could figure out. She was terrified of fire and older men. Once the man who had hired them had caught her trying to beat a brown dog. It happened to be the exact shade of the invader's uniforms. When she had noticed him watching she had screamed and run away.
    She smiled slightly. And she didn't remember any of this. Gentar had been her guardian ever since her parent's deaths. He never married, and they continued working for Lord Eckon. As soon as Eckon had noticed Quarria was old enough and could defend herself, he doubled their pay and sent her out with her own small flock. Sometimes she still dreaded fire, and didn't light one those nights. She didn't like anyone's company but Gentar and her dogs or sheep, although she had learned to tolerate it most of the time. The shepherdess still had times when she didn't remember doing something, or couldn't remember some of her own recent past.
    But she couldn't ever forget about her parents. That was one thing in her memory that was always clear. Even when they were killed. It was one thing that her unwilling brain would never forget.
    The young girl fell asleep that night in her blankets, still staring at the smoldering coals and thinking. But eventually her eyes closed and the young woman with a child's wounds on her heart drifted off.