"Hey! Look where you are going!" a man shouted, pulling his fruit basket back just in time to avoid a collision.
"Watch it, girl!" another voice yelled from the side of the road.
"What in the world is she doing?" a woman cried out, clutching her shawl as she stepped back into a shop doorway.
These were the sounds that followed Zora as she tore through the crowded market of the town. She wasn't trying to be rude, but she didn't have much of a choice.
Behind her, the heavy, rhythmic thumping of paws on the dirt road told her that the massive dog was still gaining ground. Every time the beast let out a deep, rumbling bark, Zora felt a jolt of adrenaline that made her legs move even faster.
"Move! Out of the way! Emergency!" Zora yelled at the top of her lungs. Her voice was bright and clear, cutting through the general noise of the afternoon trade.
She didn't just run, she moved with a kind of frantic grace that only someone who had spent their life getting into trouble could manage.
She saw a low wooden crate full of cabbages ahead and didn't even slow down. With a quick hop, she jumped over it, her boots barely grazing the top. Behind her, she heard the crate rattle as the dog skidded into it, sending a few round green vegetables rolling across the path.
Zora didn't look back. She ducked under a colorful hanging banner that advertised fresh meat and wove between two tall men who were busy arguing over the price of grain.
She pushed and shoved her way through the gaps in the crowd, her small frame allowing her to slide past people who were far too slow to react. To the people of the town, she was just a blur of messy hair and flying skirts, a whirlwind passing through.
She turned a sharp corner, hoping to lose her pursuer, but her luck ran out. Instead of an open path, she found herself staring at a very broad, very solid chest. She tried to stop, her heels digging into the dirt, but she was moving too fast.
Thud.
Zora hit the person like a bird flying into a stone wall. The impact was so sudden and so firm that it knocked the breath right out of her lungs.
She stumbled back, her balance failing, and landed hard on the dusty ground. For a second, everything went a bit blurry. The world spun, and she felt a dull throb in her elbow where it had hit the earth.
She didn't even have time to look up and see who she had run into. The only thing she knew was that the person felt like they were made of iron. Before she could mutter an apology or even see the man's face, a loud, wet bark echoed right in her ear.
"Yelp!" Zora scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with renewed panic.
Ignoring the soreness in her legs and the dust on her clothes, she took off again. She dove into a narrow gap between two stalls, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Behind her, the chaos finally began to slow down. The dog's owner, a young boy who looked like he had been running just as hard as Zora, finally managed to catch up.
He threw himself onto the dog's leash, pulling back with all his weight. Two of his friends arrived a moment later, looking red-faced and exhausted. They helped him hold the big animal down, their hands gripping the leather collar until the dog finally stopped lunging and settled for a low, grumpy growl.
Zora stopped running when she realized the heavy breathing behind her had stopped. She was at the edge of the market square now, cornered near a stone fountain. She saw the boy, his friends, and a growing crowd of curious onlookers heading her way.
She knew she looked guilty. She was the one who had been running, and she was the one who had caused half the market to nearly fall over.
As a girl who lived by her wits, Zora knew that the best defense was a good show. She didn't want to get in trouble, and she certainly didn't want to lose the prize she had worked so hard for.
So, she did what she did best, she lied with her whole body.
Zora let out a loud, dramatic wail. She collapsed back onto the ground, clutching her leg as if it had been snapped in two.
She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing a few tears to prick at the corners, and began to sob. It was a loud, pitiful sound that immediately made the nearby shoppers stop and stare with worry.
"Oh, my leg! It hurts so much!" she cried, rocking back and forth.
The owner of the dog and his friends stopped in their tracks. They looked shocked, their mouths hanging open as they watched the girl they had been chasing turn into a fountain of misery. The crowd began to close in, whispering to one another.
"What happened to that poor girl?" an old woman asked, looking sternly at the boys.
Zora pointed a trembling finger at the boy and his panting dog. "They chased me!" she accused, her voice wobbling perfectly. "That monster tried to bite me, and I fell because they wouldn't stop! Look at my leg! I might never walk the same way again!"
The boy's face went from red to white. "What? No! That's not what happened!" he shouted, looking at the circle of judging faces around him. "She provoked him! She's the one who started it!"
To understand why Zora was currently putting on the performance of a lifetime, you have to go back to the start of her afternoon.
It had begun simply enough. Zora had traveled from her small village to the town market and decided to get a birthday gift for her young neighbor, a sweet six-year-old boy she called Bubu.
Zora had grown very fond of the little boy and his family over the years. They were part of the small circle of people who made her feel like she belonged, even though she carried a secret that could get her killed.
She had spent nearly an hour patrolling the market stalls, looking for something perfect. She didn't have too much money, but she wanted something that would make Bubu's eyes light up.
She passed by stalls selling different items and trinkets but none of them were right.
Finally, she found a small toy shop tucked away in a corner of the market. It was a charming little place with tall wooden shelves.
The air inside smelled like carved pine and old paint. Zora spent a long time looking at the displays, her finger tapping against her chin as she contemplated which toy was best.
There were wooden soldiers, spinning tops, and little whistles. But then, she saw it, a small, bright blue rubber toy. It was shaped like a round, happy animal with big ears. It was simple, durable, and exactly the kind of thing a six year old would play with until it fell apart.
"I'll take this one," Zora said to the shopkeeper, her face brightening with a smile. She reached out her hand to pick it up from the counter.
But before her fingers could close around the blue toy, another hand shot out and snatched it away.
Zora froze. Her mouth popped open in a look of pure stunned silence. She turned her head slowly to find a young boy, maybe fifteen years old, standing right next to her.
He was tall for his age and had a very arrogant look on his face. Standing at his heels was a dog the size of a small pony, with thick fur and a very heavy jaw.
The boy didn't even look at Zora. He just tossed the blue toy into the air and let it fall right into the dog's mouth. The dog caught it with a loud squish and looked very pleased with himself.
"Hey!" Zora finally found her voice. "I picked that first, I was literally reaching for it"
The boy looked down at her, his nose wrinkled as if he had smelled something bad. "I touched it first," he said, his voice full of unearned confidence. "That means it's mine. My dog likes it, so we're buying it."
The shopkeeper looked between the two of them, clearly not wanting to get involved in a fight between children. He started to stammer something about having another toy in the back, but Zora wasn't listening.
She felt a spark of heat in her chest. Zora was many things, a liar, a mischief maker, and a secret vampire but she was not someone who let bullies win.
She rolled up her sleeves, even though they were short and didn't really need rolling, and turned her full body to face the boy. She planted her hands firmly on her hips and gave him a look that had made much older men back down.
"Oh no you don't," Zora said, her voice dropping into a serious tone. "I am being nice right now. Give it back while I am still in a good mood."
The boy laughed, a short, mocking sound. He looked her up and down, noticing her simple village clothes. "It's a toy for kids. What do you even need it for? Go find a doll or something."
Zora didn't waste any more breath on words. If he wasn't going to be reasonable, she would just have to take what was hers. She turned to the giant dog, who was currently chewing contentedly on the blue rubber.
Most people would be terrified to put their hands near the mouth of a beast that large, but Zora wasn't most people. She reached out and grabbed the edge of the toy that was sticking out from the dog's teeth. She gave it a sharp yank.
The dog was surprised. It let out a low, warning growl, its tail stopping its happy wagging. It gripped the toy tighter, pulling back against her.
"Let. Go," Zora hissed, leaning back and using all her strength.
"Hey! Stop that!" the boy yelled, finally looking worried. "You're going to make him mad!"
The shopkeeper was shouting now, too, waving his arms and telling them to take the fight outside.
The dog, feeling the toy being pulled away, decided it had had enough of this game. It let out a loud, feral bark and lunged forward. Zora managed to yank the toy free just as the dog snapped at the air where her hand had been a second before.
"Run!" the boy's friend yelled as the dog broke into a sprint.
That was how the chase had started. Zora had the toy tucked into her pocket, and the dog had a very hurt ego.
Back in the present, the crowd was still gathered around Zora and the group of boys. The owner of the dog was red faced, panting with his hands on his knees. He looked like he was about to pass out from the effort of the run.
After a lot of arguing, a lot of dramatic sobbing from Zora, and a few stern words from a local guard who had come to see what the fuss was about, the issue was finally settled.
The guard decided that the boys shouldn't have let their dog chase a girl through a crowded market, regardless of who started it.
The boy was forced to apologize, and Zora, looking like a saint who had just survived a tragedy, was allowed to leave with her blue toy.
As soon as she was out of sight of the crowd, Zora's limp vanished. Her sobbing stopped instantly, replaced by a satisfied smirk. She reached into her pocket and felt the smooth, rubbery surface of the blue toy.
"Totally worth it," she whispered to herself.
However, as she started the long walk back to her village, she began to feel the physical toll of her morning. She wasn't human, so she healed faster and had more energy, but she still felt the aches in her muscles.
She walked along the dirt path, grumbling to herself. Every few steps, she would pause to massage her lower back or rub her shoulder, moving with the exaggerated stiffness of an old lady who had been working in the fields for forty years.
"Ow," she muttered, stepping over a puddle. "My elbow is definitely going to be bruised. That man I ran into was made of bricks. Who even stands that still in the middle of a market?" she said forgetting what she was for a second.
The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long, orange shadows across the road. The air was cooling down, and the familiar sights of her village started to appear.
She saw the rolling green hills and the small, stone walled houses with thatched roofs. This place was quiet and safe. It was a place where everyone knew her name, even if they didn't know her true nature.
As she entered the village, she saw a few elders sitting on a bench near the well. She straightened her back, hiding her "old lady" act, and gave them a bright wave.
"Good evening, Mr. Gable! Beautiful sunset, isn't it?" she called out.
The old man nodded kindly. "Evening, Zora. You look like you've been through a hedge backwards. Everything alright in town?"
"Just a busy market day!" she lied smoothly, flashing a quick smile.
A group of younger children saw her and came running over, their eyes wide with hope.
Zora reached into a different pocket and pulled out a small paper bag of sweets she had picked up earlier. She handed them out, watching the kids scramble and cheer as they shared the sugary treats. To them, she was the fun older sister of the village, always ready with a story or a snack.
But Zora didn't stay to play. She had one more stop to make. She walked down the narrow lane to the house next to hers and knocked softly on the heavy wooden door.
A moment later, the door creaked open, and a small face peered out. It was Bubu. He had big, expectant brown eyes and messy hair. When he saw it was Zora, his whole face lit up.
"Zora!" he squealed, stepping out onto the porch.
"Happy birthday, Bubu," she said, her voice softening. She held her hands behind her back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I went to the big town today, and I saw something. It told me it wanted to meet a very brave six year old."
"Really?" Bubu asked, leaning forward.
"Really." With a flourish, she brought her hand forward. "Tada!"
The blue rubber toy sat in her palm. Bubu let out a gasp of pure joy. He snatched the toy and squeezed it, making it let out a little squeak.
He laughed, a bright and honest sound that made all the trouble in the market feel small. He lunged forward and gave Zora a quick, tight hug around her waist.
"Thank you, Zora! It's the best!"
"You're welcome, kiddo. Now go show your mom," she said, patting his head.
She watched him run back inside, his shouts of excitement echoing through the house. Zora stood on the porch for a moment, the smile slowly fading from her lips. She felt a warmth in her chest, but it was quickly followed by a sharp, cold pang of loneliness.
She turned and walked the few steps to her own front door. It was a small, sturdy house, the one her foster parents had left behind. Once, this house had been full of the smell of her mother's cooking and the sound of her father cleaning his hunting gear. Now, it was just a building.
Zora stepped inside and shut the heavy door behind her. She slid the bolt into place, the metallic click sounding loud in the silence. The house was dark, the only light coming from the fading sun through the windows.
She leaned her back against the door and let out a long, heavy sigh. The mask she wore for the villagers the happy, mischievous, normal girl slid away. In the quiet of her home, she was just Zora. A girl who was nineteen years old, entirely alone, and hiding a hunger that the world would never understand.
She looked around the empty room, she was safe for now, but the silence always reminded her of what she had lost.
With a tired groan, she began to move toward the kitchen, wondering if there was enough animal blood left in the cellar to last her through the week.
It had been a long day and she was exhausted.