I ran out the cave and took a swift left. He will try to kill me, now. He had a reason to. I knew he had a reason to. I just couldn't answer him, if and when he asked me for truth. I also knew this forest was his home and he would have no trouble finding me. Although I was being hunted, I felt relaxed, calm. I wasn't afraid to die, he would not fail and I knew that. But I refused to make it easy.

Breathing was difficult as a sudden cold chill blew through the air. I could hear nothing but the wind as I continued in no one direction, not able to see much in front of me. Snow had begun to fall thickly around me, penetrating the thick canopy above. I hoped to use this to my advantage. I did not have the hunter's agility; I could not easily climb a tree as he could and I had no doubt he was already above ground, watching and waiting for me. I must get higher. Or at least use trickery. It was getting darker.

I slowed down, trying to catch my breath. The adrenaline pumping through my veins was wearing thin and I was feeling tired and listless. I frowned as I looked around me. The snow was nearly up to my knees and I was just a target. I forced myself to move toward a particularly large tree and followed it around. It was an old tree with bits of heavy bark peeling off the trunk. Looking around me and listening to the silence, I took a tentative hand, and fingered the bark, and then I pulled it. The strip easily broke off leaving a softer inner trunk underneath. I peered up the tree, it wasn't too far. As I reached down my legs for the smaller knives, I looked around and listened, only the sound of soft pats from the fallen snow could be heard.

I stood up and plunged one of my daggers high into the trunk. I grasped it and bent my knees to hang. I gave a nod in satisfaction; the daggers would hold if I were quick. I shoved the old bark from the tree under the snow and covered it, trying to hide my tacks. I wasn't a fool, though. With another dagger in my hand, I rammed it into the tree and began to climb. It was hard and slow work trying to pull as much of the bark as I could, while holding my body weight with one arm and ramming the free dagger in with the other. I know I just needed to get high. I wondered where the hunter was.

When I left the cave, I did not keep in one direction, but different ones, leaving clues that led into misinformation. I knew this game. It was familiar to me and curiously, gave me excitement. I felt a determination, something that told me to never become the prey, but become the hunter. That was my plan. I was hoping the falling snow would cover most of the bits of bark that had fallen under me, but I doubted it.

I was on the lowest branch now, my arms feeling loose and worn and my face covered in sweat, but I had no time to waste. I was standing on a thick branch, the snow that did manage to fall on this branch had melted and standing was particularly dangerous. I placed my daggers up my sleeves where they stayed comfortably. I was still quite low, considering how high most of the branches on the other trees were. I looked up; there were more and more branches higher on the trunk. I peered around the tree; there was a closer one but a bit of a jump. I knew how vulnerable I was going to be at that moment, but I needed to move. I could not allow myself to stay in one place for too long.

I found a good spot on the slippery branch and bending my knees slightly, I jumped. My body was in the air with what seemed like a full minute when my hands made contact with the next branch. I grunted as my body swung, leaves falling to the ground from the impact. I let out a relieved sigh and pulled myself up. My heart was beating fast as I stood up, more cold sweat falling down my face. I wiped it away from my vision and was happy to see more easily accessible (and dry) branches for me to climb and cross over with. The trees were so close together the branches that formed were almost like walkways leading to different parts of the forest. No wonder the hunter was able to move around so quickly. I exhaled. He would be up here.

I began to move again, quickly, but carefully. More than once I nearly fell off a branch, but I was able to hold fast. I continued moving wherever opportunity presented itself. It had been a long time. It was then that I realised the hunter was merely playing with me. He knew exactly where I was and none of my tricks had worked on him. As if he knew my thoughts, there was a loud sound of impact and an arrow had embedded itself right beside my head, my nose close enough to touch it. He missed deliberately. I moved again, I had no idea where it had come from.

The arrows stopped, but that didn't mean he did. I continued on but had to stop, nearly falling again. There he was standing in front of me with his bow up and his arrow waiting. Just like the first time we met. I took a step back and he took a step forward, we continued this dance until my back was against the trunk. I didn't have much choice on where to go, but I wasn't defenceless. I slowly lowered my hand and felt a piece of metal fall into my palm, I quickly threw my hand back and then forward, one of my daggers flying at the hunter. He managed to move out of the way, distracted, but so did I. I ran in another direction, his arrows flying toward my legs. Even I was surprised on how I managed to maintain my balance while moving away from the arrows aimed at me.

I cursed. I had nowhere to go, there weren't any more branches, thick enough to hold my weight anyway. It was a trap. I chuckled humourlessly to myself leaning against a trunk. I was breathing heavily, not sure how I was feeling. Certainly, very tired. Relieved, perhaps? It was over. I felt the back of my coat being pulled and I nearly lost my footing.

The hunter took hold of hood, forcing my face to become exposed to the cold hair. I looked at him as his intense grey eyes stared down at me, an evil smirk playing on his lips. I lowered my eyes to look below me. There was an empty patch of snow below me. My time didn't run out just yet. The hunter reached for my neck with the other hand, a beautiful dagger coming closer, I noticed the elongated and delicate script on this weapon as well. I thought fast; I pushed down the other dagger in my sleeve and sliced deep into his wrist.

The hunter let go of my neck, but the other fist was gripping my coat, holding me up. I disentangled myself from it and felt myself falling, for how long I couldn't tell. Everything was in slow motion. If I died, everything would be over and I was at peace with that. If I wasn't killed, I still had a chance. I landed heavily on my legs into the snow and rolled away, determined to keep moving when I could. All I could do was keep running, try to trick him, force the hunter to use all his arrows. If I counted correctly, he didn't have many left.

It was too late. He stood in front of me, his bow in his hand. I gulped, another dagger up my sleeve. I threw it, but he was ready and batted it away with his weapon, almost bored. We stood silently looking at each other. He dropped his bow and his empty quiver on the deep snow beside his feet. He slowly unbuttoned his cloak, not taking his eyes off me. He was very tall, his hair very pale. From a distance, he looked fragile and delicate. Up close, he certainly was not. Perhaps this was a tactic, intimidation.

He ran at me, his face calm and deadly. I gulped as I watched him quickly approach, my thoughts running wild. He thrust his dagger and sliced the air where my neck was just seconds before, but I moved away. He gracefully twirled in one single movement, and shoved me effortlessly into the snow, throwing me off balance. I landed on my back just as he was reaching down to stab when I lifted my foot back and kicked him heavily in the chest, pushing him away from me.

He grunted softly, but I hardly moved him, he was more surprised than anything. He ran at me again, using a different tactic. Swiftly, he took hold of my arm and reached around to push his dagger into me, when I pulled out another small dagger from my sleeve and meant to shove it into his side, but he was aware and twisted my arm up, my knife dropping into the snow, lost. I groaned from the effort; he was far stronger than I was but I struggled nonetheless as he tried to cut off the circulation in my neck. Eventually, I managed to slip away and pulled out my own dagger just as the hunter was about to ram his into my skull. I twisted from the ground and used my knife to reflect his attack. He backed away looking very frustrated and wrathful, his eyes staring at the dagger. My touch seemed to infuriate the hunter further.

This weapon felt comfortable in my hand as if I'd used it many times before. I didn't remember those times, I couldn't, but everything about it reminded me that it was important and precious. It fit perfectly into my palm, as I slowly laid the rest of my fingers over the hilt.

The hunter ran after me again. I recognised what he was about to do. It was an amateurish but a very effective move. I saw him twist in the air quickly and pull out a long, very thin sword from under his coat, his aim to slice at my good arm. I ducked and rolled out of the way but not before attacking him myself, placing a well-aimed thrust at his leg, but he was faster than I was, and merely reflected it with a graceful turn of his wrist and then another turn. He managed to cut superficially into my cheek before I jumped away from him.

He brought down his other arm to attack but my dagger was ready and I pushed him away from me, his other arm coming down as well. I lifted my leg and kicked him in the chest again, forcing him away from me. Again, he did not move too far back and smirked at me again, his eyes dancing in a sort of malice. I was ready, however, before he even lifted his weapons again; I was running forward and ducked under his arm, lifting my leg to kick him hard in his side.

This time he doubled over, one hand to his side. I ran at him again kicking his hand so he would drop the thin sword. I went to kick again, but with his now free hand, he took hold of my trouser leg and pulled me down. I twisted out of his grasp pulling him forward and with the momentum, threw a fist into his face.

The hunter did not make a sound, but his hand went to his head. Blood was falling out of his nose and he had a cut alongside his face. He looked up at me, his eyebrows furrowed. I could have sworn he was growling. I took a step back before he stood and ran. I did not have the strength to fight. I knew I was coming to my death. Now, it was just a matter of when.

I took a few deep breaths, closing my eyes briefly. Perhaps this was the moment. I was still long enough. The hunter knew this forest and he knew exactly where I was. This was the moment.

I felt a presence beside me. I looked up in time to see a fist coming into my face. I backed up, feeling my nose. It was broken, and painful. I looked around me, unable to see anything clearly. I felt a strong shove and fell to the ground, my hands falling onto the soft snow beside me. It was cold. I then realised I did not have my weapon. I tried to look through blurred vision feeling for it in the cold, but it was not close. I turned to look behind me and felt the tall figure of the hunter making his way slowly toward me. I backed up, unable to walk or run. I felt something fall down my sleeve; I pulled it out and aimed it at the hunter, but he merely kicked it with one foot and it fell out of my hand. I continued to back up until I felt a tree behind me. I let out a sigh. A slow defeated sigh and leaned my head against the tree.