A rose and its thorns aren't something to be taken lightly.
Poor Hugo realized that the hard way when he ran through the dark cover of the forest and right into the rose gardens of Valentines. He stared up at the sky with its numerous stars and then at the waning moon that shone a deep red and stomped on the roses around him,
"Bloody Crown Princess with that egoistical Prince and their subpar and annoyingsoldiers," he ranted as he pulled an arrow from his stomach, wincing in pain.
"They won't find me here," he thought, hopeful. He has barely escaped the Capital on his trustworthy horse, Lydia.
Oh, lonely Lydia- left all alone at the entrance of the forest as she watched her master run into the rumoured home of monsters without looking back as an arrow or two lodged themselves into his body.
Hugo took another angry step but then blood leaked out of his body, from where he had pulled the arrow out. He stared at the arrow that was still in his leg and then at the arrow which was on the ground now. "Maybe," he mumbled to himself, giddy with pain, "I shouldn't have removed that arrow."
He touched his wound and felt his blood paint his palm. He held it up to sky, "Oh Spirits," he smiled, before collapsing onto the roses.
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Piper was behind the counter serving drinks to a middle-aged man at the counter while he sobbed and drank buckets of wine at this late hour.
Piper really didn't pay any attention to what he had been saying after about 2 hours of his incoherent rambling. Something about finding his wife in bed with a young guy, she vaguely remembered.
She put a hand on his shoulder as the clock struck 12 and rays of the waning moon cast a red shadow over the bar. "There, there," she said as an attempt to comfort him, "Maybe sleeping will help that broken heart of yours."
The man sniffled and looked up and grabbed a hold of her hand, "Thank you, angel. My angel," he said as he bursted into tears again.
Piper grimaced. Of course she did, she was working overtime because of this one man. Her eyes roamed the rest of the empty bar hoping for someone to come in (although it was highly unlikely and she knew it).
BAM.
The Spirits had granted her prayers.
Overjoyed, she broke into a big smile which quickly turned into an expression of disbelief as she saw Mr. Rosalie run into the bar holding a body in his hands. "Piper!" he screamed, "Thank the Spirits someone is awake."
The drunk man also turned his head to the source of the noise and screamed and pointed to the body in Mr. Rosalie's hands, "A-a body! You killer gardener. I'll tell everyone what you did, who you really are! You fu-"
The drunken man slumped to the ground as Piper held a metal tray where his head had been before he fell to the ground. The metal tray she used to serve her customers at their tables.
"Mr. Rosalie," she managed to get out, "I'm terribly sorry for-" her eyes roamed to the body in his hands and she felt her heartbeat stop.
"Please Piper, I found him in the gardens. He's dying. No one is awake and even the apothecary is closed down. Damn it, this is why I hate living in a village, the population is so low that no one needs to do their job. Please Piper, can you do something? Can you-"
Mr. Rosalie droned on and on, panicked and worried about this man's life as his blood fell on the floor drop-by-drop.
But Piper couldn't hear him as all she could do was stare at that familiar messy sandy blonde hair and that familiar face on a familiar scrawny body.
"Why is he here?"
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