This was just experimental. I don't think I'm going to continue it, unless I get some positive feedback. So I hope you like what little there is!

Chapter One

An owl made it's mournful call in the distance.

Jo turned at the sound, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bird, but it remained hidden in the leaves, in its haven. Jo knew it would come out when darkness fell, and it would feast. But as long as the suns rays’ fell down, it would stay where it was.

The girl sat on the rough and unyielding branch, still and silent with her crossbow resting across her knees. She waited for game to emerge from the bush and into the tempting meadow in front of her. Life teemed about her. Jo absorbed every sound, every movement. Her ears, keen as a bat's, could catch the faint trickle of a stream a mile or so away. Her eyes, as sharp as a hawks, could see a small poisonous caterpillar making its way up a tree across the wide clearing.

She refused to let her mind wander as she waited patiently. Even when Anders' face came to mind, she shoved it away firmly. Her cold blue eyes gazed out onto the golden grass. A sound came to her. She sharply turned to her left. A deer—a doe—was stirring about two miles away to the west. She could smell it. It would come here. In the doe’s mind she could feel its yearning for the grasses. Jo could feel the hunger rumbling in the deer’s stomach.

She shifted her position on the high tree branch, preparing herself. And she waited. The doe was slow. More cautious than a prancing young buck. When Jo closed her eyes she could see the she-deer lifting her wet nose and sniffing the air.

An hour passed. The deer constantly stopped to nibble on something. Jo ignored her sore muscles, tense for so long. The doe was coming closer now. A family of squirrels were climbing among the trees, bursting with energy after the long winter. Irritated, Jo sent a wave of silence over them. Their chattering ceased. Jo once again turned her attention back to the doe.

It finally stepped out from the woods. Jo smiled in cold triumph. The doe’s dark eyes scanned the bush, and the trees. Jo sat calm and unmoving, breathing as lightly and quietly as she could. The squirrels tried to start their noises once again but Jo kept her hold over them. She kept her eyes glued to the hesitant doe. After a moment, the deer walked gracefully to the middle of the clearing. She bent down and began to fill her stomach with the last meal she would ever eat.

Jo lifted her bow, and effortlessly pulled back the string, the arrow in place. The wind suddenly shifted. The doe caught Jo’s strange scent and quickly lifted its head. Jo could see the dark eyes dart in her direction. The doe slowly began to back away. Jo cursed under her breath. The deer’s ears flicked and caught her words. Panic took hold of the doe and she turned to run. Jo gritted her teeth.

“Come to me,” Jo muttered. The deer paused, and then continued to crash toward the bush. Jo closed her eyes and quickly sent a wave of ease over the squirrels. Their chatter began once again instantly. The sound reached the long ears of the doe and she paused once again. She lifted her nose and tried to catch Jo’s scent again.

Jo’s arm ached from holding back the arrow for so long, but she waited. The deer slowly stepped forward. She turned and bent down to eat. Jo grinned, and released her arrow.

It shot straight and true. Jo lowered her bow with relief and hopped from the tree. She walked up and eyed her prize. The doe had been an old deer, older than Jo had thought, but there was plenty of meat on her. Jo brushed her tangled bangs back and smiled in satisfaction. There would be food on the table tonight.

- - -

Jo sat in the shadows. The fire before her snapped and crackled. She watched her mother and grandmother bustle about the small two-room cottage. Jo turned the meat on its perch over the heat of the flames.

“Mama, it’s done,” she said quietly. As her mother approached, Jo melted back into the dark.

“Oh, good, good.” Aemilia carefully removed the deer meat from the fire and set it down on a prepared plate. “We’ll eat handsomely tonight!” She announced.

Jo didn’t reply; her eyes were on her grandmother. “Your back is bothering you again, Grandmamma,” Jo said.

The older woman threw a glare at Jo. “My back is just fine. I don’t need anyone worrying over me,” She snorted. Jo sighed and leaned back against the wall.

Aemilia brought the plate over to the small table and set it down. “Come and eat!” Jo’s grandmamma slowly walked over and lowered herself to one of the rickety chairs. Jo followed reluctantly. Aemilia started to cut the food.

“I wish you would let me help,” Jo said and looked down at her lap. Her hands were clenched tightly. Her mother didn’t look up at her.

“We’ve been over this, Jo,” She sat down. “Now, let’s thank the gods for our food they saw fit to send to us.”

“You’re overlooking the fact that I shot the deer,” Jo said crossly.

Aemilia narrowed her eyes. “And the gods sent it across your path, so hush your tongue.” Jo pursed her lips, struggling with her anger.

“I promise to try harder… just give me another chance, Mama. I hate watching you and Grandmamma working so hard,” Jo pleaded with her eyes. Aemilia’s eyes were hard.

“No, Joceline. The less you do the better. Last time you stubbed your toe the table caught on fire,” She nodded to the half-burnt leg that their meat was placed on.

Jo clenched her jaw as her unyielding anger threatened to overwhelm her. It rose higher and higher within her. Jo’s eyes flared from blue to bright green. Green fire started to form in the air. Aemilia shrieked and jumped up from her chair. Jo managed to smother it immediately.

“This is what I’m talking about!” She screeched. Grandmamma frowned at her daughter.

“Sit down, Aemilia,” She snapped. Aemilia sat back down and glared at Jo so furiously that Jo fought tears. Remorse choked her.

“Mama—I didn’t mean—”

“You never mean to, Joceline.” Aemilia rested her head on her hands. She shuddered. “Why would the gods give me—”

“Oh, hush your own tongue,” Jo’s grandmamma interrupted. Aemilia stood up abruptly.

“I can see that tonight is going to be like any other night in this family. I’m not going to sit here and wait to be roasted to death,” with a pointed look at Jo, Aemilia turned and walked out of the cottage.

Jo stood to follow her.

“Oh, leave her be, child.” Grandmamma ordered impatiently. Jo bit her lip and slowly sat back down.

“Why does she despise me so, Grandmamma?” The old woman cut a chunk off the meat and stuck it in her mouth. She chewed.

“Good food.” She said to herself. Jo sighed and began to eat. Silence passed between them. The only sound in the small room was the clinking of their forks against the plates.

Jo struggled. Would she always be the village outcast? What did she have to do to prove to them all that she wasn’t a witch? She thought of all the old women hustling to the other side of the road when she appeared. Even her own mother deserted her when they reached the outskirts of the village.

“She doesn’t despise you.” Her grandmother said. Jo jumped.

“What?” She asked dumbly. The old woman scowled.

“Why weren’t you paying attention, girl? I’m not about to repeat myself.”

Jo pushed her plate away. She’d only been picking at the meat anyway. “I’m sorry, Grandmamma. I heard you.”

“Then I can tell you that the only reason she treats you like she does is because she’s just scared.”

Jo pushed back her tears. “Scared?” She stood. The old woman just watched her small wise eyes.

“Yes. You’ll understand one day, child.”

Jo nodded in agreement. “One day. Not today.” She turned and walked out.