Crimes of the Vault

Prologue

A chill ran through her body, the tell-tale beginning signs of hypothermia, every one of her limbs cramping as she crouched, fingers wrapped around the familiar worn wooden shaft, poised over her head.

And she waited. And she listened.

Snow fell against her face, the hood of her thin cloak soaked through with melted snowflakes, further settling the chill over her body. Eyes strained to focus on the blurred white ground, water seeping down her forehead, over her temples, and off her chin, dropping down to her chest, heaving with desperately controlled breaths.

Any sign of movement. That's all she needed. At the first sign of movement she could move, and her body would be warmed again, her limbs would unlock and her blood would unfreeze.

Breaths puffed out harshly in the cold air, trails of cloudy steam following her every time she moved her head, her eyes trained on the blanketed forest floor in front of her.

Everything around her muted, the world seeming to hold its breath in anticipation as she waited.

The sooner she made this catch, whatever it was; be it a rabbit, deer, or even a squirrel, the sooner she could return home and eat for the next week. She could preserve it, make it last for as long as she could. Trade whatever pelt she got for whatever coin the marketers could spare.

The branches of a nearby tree shifted, something foreign, a movement that not even the light wind could replicate. Her head moved to watch it slowly, silently reminding herself of the lessons her Nana taught her all those years ago, more lifetime now. No sudden movements.

A deer stalked out of the trees into the small clearing she made her small nest in, it large black eyes taking in its surroundings, ears flicking to listen for anything out of the ordinary.

There was a limp in its step, a pre-existing injury in one of its hind legs that made the poor creature move much slower than it should have.

She almost pitied the poor thing. There was a pang of sympathy in her heart as she watched it settle weakly against a tree, a small whimper falling from its mouth as it curled its injured leg up to its body. Part of her didn't want to kill it. Maybe she could come back another day. Maybe she could wait until something else came along.

But the sun was hitting the horizon in an array of beautiful colours that peaked through the bare tree tops, and Tempest knew she couldn't risk it. Her food had been gone since the day before yesterday, and her stomach cramped more than her limbs did, the hunger would get to her soon and-

And she just couldn't.

With a small silent apology sent out to the poor deer, and up to her ancestors, whom she knew were watching her from the afterlife with great disappointment, Tempest raised the hand-crafted spear a little further over her head, keeping her movements tiny and soundless.

The spear left her hand smoothly, the motion entirely familiar to her after years of hunting for her own food. It flew through the air swiftly, leaving only a slight whistling behind as it soared and-

The deer made a tiny squeal that cut off halfway through, its body falling limp to the ground, black eyes staring blankly out at the world, unable to see the attack before its life fell away, leaving only an empty husk of meat behind.

Tempest rose from her crouched spot on the ground, moving quickly across the clearing before anything could grab the kill before she could. Blood had begun to seep onto the snow, leaving it stained and imperfect.

She pulled at the spear, dislodging it from between the deer's ribs and the blood came even faster. Tempest loosed a coil of rope from her belt and began to tie it around the limbs of the deer, fastening it as fast as her frozen fingers would allow, occasionally stumbling with the speed and tying her fingers into the knots.