Sofia stands in line, waiting to be presented on the platform and sold at the slave market. She notices the Slaver arguing with the auctioneer. It's now or never, the chance of a lifetime she pines, and she takes it. She makes a run for freedom, leather slave collar and dangling tether. Running as fast as she can, she cuts through the maze of back alleys and yards, trying her best to stay hidden from sight.
Eyeing the tree line ahead she stops, crouching in an alley, waiting and watching to see if she is being followed. She shakes so hard, her teeth rattling. Believing it is clear, she runs into the woods as fast and as far as she can.
Jack sets out early this morning, ax in his left hand and the big sled strapped to his shoulders, along with Hank, to secure the day's ration of firewood. He cuts and chops for two hours, believing he has enough for three days. Tossing his ax on the pile, he calls out to Hank. It was at that precise moment that Hank, his faithful wolf hound, goes on alert.
"What the hell, Hank?"
Jack mumbles as he strains his eyes, catching a glimpse of a tiny figure with blondish hair moving not so silently amongst the trees. Jack whispers to Hank.
"Get em boy!
Hank runs down the prey in no time flat. Pouncing on its chest, snarling, fangs flashing, drool dripping on the small human's face, primed to kill in an instant. Jack comes upon Hank calling, "Easy boy!"
The filthy thing cowers in absolute fear as the one hundred fifty-pound beast snarls and drools, standing on her chest. The first thing Jack notices is the thick leather collar locked around her neck.
"Jesus. A female runner! Why are you trespassing in my forest?"
The girl attempts to struggle out of simple fear. Her fight or flight response kicks in and she chooses to fight. She struggles so hard the wounds on her back, many fresh, open up and begin to bleed. Hank smells the blood and grabs her arm in his
mouth, turning her over. The blood is mostly matted but also freshly running, soaking the dirty rags she wears as substitutes for clothes.
"Jesus!" Jack exclaims. The site before him is hideous. This skinny thing, obviously a runaway, rolls away from Hank's snarling fangs, exposing the raw wounds on her backside. "Easy Hank", Jack says, realizing the situation. Another damn runner, only this time a female. He grasps one of her wrists and the collar around her neck, pulling her to her feet.
"What's you name you filthy smelly rodent?"
Jack growls while pulling her off her feet to his eye level!
The girl, trying to hide the pain raging up and down her back is too scared to speak.
"Hmmm...did they cut your tongue out?" Jack says loudly and harshly.
"Well Hank, I think we got us a live one...not the normal type that we can work in the fields...maybe this one can cook and clean...of course if we can clean the funk off it first!"
Jack grabs her collar and hoists her emaciated body over his shoulder and tells Hank it's time to head home. Hank doesn't seem to think much of that idea, but he knows who feeds him, so he just snarls and heads out at a slow gallop.
"I don't want any trouble out of you, you vamp. Do as you're told, and if I can scrub the nasty off of you, I may let you live."
Suddenly, in a very soft voice...
"I'm Sofia."
Jack barely hears a squeaky soft voice mumble the name Sofia. He stops treading through the woods, long enough to take a break from dragging the sled full of firewood.
"Sofia huh? Well Sofia, I'm Jack. It seems, at least for the moment, you are in my possession. Should you decide that you would like to live, you will abide by my rules. You address me as Sir, until I decide if you may address me otherwise. Now climb on the sled. We got 3 miles to the house."
Sofia slowly climbs on the sled, unsure of the situation, but she is still alive and not being beaten then dragged back to the slave auction.
Jack watches as the scrubby girl climbs aboard the massive pile of wood. He isn't concerned that she might make a run for it...Hank will quickly stop any attempt to escape. Besides, this supposedly female, Sofia, is hurt, tired, and hungry. Since he hasn't beaten her or killed her so far, he is confident she is seeking any type of solace she can find.
He slides the sled yoke around his neck and with a herculean effort, the sled moves forward along the three-mile road through the dense forest to his house. After a quarter mile, he glances over his shoulder and notices the waif curled up in a fetal position, fast asleep. Jack grins, shaking his head as he thinks about the women in town strolling along with their babies in a wheeled basket...you never hear one crying, He is sure the same principle applies to this one.
One should realize that Jack is a mountain of a man...standing 6-foot, 5-inches, weighing in at about 240 pounds. His body is made up of sinewy muscle, not a shred of fat. His long greyish/white hair is thick and long flowing down to his shoulders. His ice blue eyes, and 3 days of stubble growth which makes him look like a very sinister operator. His fur clothing, made from the skin of the animals he kills for meat, fits him impeccably, topped off with a black belt around his waist. He carries his weapons tucked inside the belt. A razor-sharp throwing knife, 2 tomahawks, and his bow slung across his shoulders with a quiver of arrows.
Jack's mind wanders back to the previous "Runner's" he has come to possess.
As he trudges along, he filters each through his memory. Ori, a youngster, not quite 15, but who really knew. He broke free from his master after bashing him on the head with a rock. He showed up on Jack's doorstep, pleading for help, tired, hungry, and desperately clinging to life. Jack hid him away and treated him like the son he never had. He was cut down one day by the slaver's arrow, while on a supply run to town. Thats when Jack realized how he had failed to cover up or hide the telltale markings/brandings these cruel slavers place on their property.