The young woman ran through the woods, her nearly bare feet crunching through the late winter snow. In a state of near-panic, she ran ever faster, barely noticing the intense cold. Through the forest she continued, not knowing even in which direction she ran, barely able to see ahead of her in the dark of these night hours.
Stumbling in the dark, she fell into the snow at the base of a tree. Lifting her head from the snow, without the sound of her running to distract her, she could distantly hear the far-off howling of wolves. As she paused on the ground to listen, the cold of the snow and night air began to be felt, especially through the tattered rags of her leggings and her tattooed shoulders. With the cold beginning to numb her senses, her ears became full of the sound of her own heart beating rapidly.
Grabbing the trunk of the tree, the woman began to pull herself up. With a terrifyingly loud ripping sound, her tunic caught on an exposed root and tore, revealing a beautiful breast circled with more tattoos. Clutching the shredding fabric, she lurched and began running again. With her feet and body becoming more and more numb, it was clear she was not able to run much further. Every time she slowed to a jerking walk, however, she again heard the howling of wolves, and ran faster again.
As the stars glittered harshly, seemingly painfully through the trees, a soft orange glow appeared ahead of her.
***
Anna sat at the rough table, carving a small design into the bowl in front of her. Her eyes glittered in the light from the fire in the hearth as she worked. Over the sound of the fire crackling, she could hear the soft snoring of her husband, Flavius.
Still a beautiful woman, lines had begun to form at the corners of her eyes, and two years ago she began to notice gray strands in her hair. These had less to do with passing thirty years of age, however, and had much more to do with leaving Rome several seasons ago to travel up north of the Rhine. The journey itself had been taxing, and building their home together had taken a lot out of Flavius and the herself, but she had finally stopped missing the society and life of the great city. Indeed, the few scattered villages near where they lived proved to be an interesting study for her, learning the more rustic art of the Gauls and the Cimbris, as well as the odd spiritualism they had. But, with Flavius now over fifty years old, and with no children to help with the upkeep of their home, the strain was beginning to show on Anna's face and hands.
Putting the bowl and carving tool down, she stretched her neck and shoulders, the rough cloth of her tunic irritating the skin on her arms slightly. Looking over at her husband sleeping on the fur-covered bed, she smiled.
'About time I went to bed too,' Anna thought.
Rising, she thought she heard a crunching sound outside, like someone rushing through the snow. Pulling back the heavy cloth covering the window by the door, she saw a small, pale woman clad in rags stumbling toward her home. As Anna watched, the woman looked behind her and fell forward into a bank of the freezing snow, collapsing through the frozen crust.
With barely a thought, Anna bolted out to help, fearful that one of the women from the nearby village would freeze to death on her doorstep. Pulling the woman to her feet, Anna noticed her bare breast free itself from the torn tunic.
'The hunters,' the young woman said through chattering teeth. 'I have to... to get away...'.
Putting away lascivious thoughts engendered from many years in the hedonistic society of Rome, Anna helped the deathly-cold woman into her home.
***
'What is your name?' Anna inquired of the young woman, after seating her on a fur blanket by the fire and wrapping another fur around her shoulders. Anna began putting water into a bowl above the fire.
'My...my name...is Dosia,' the woman stammered, still numb from the cold. She began wiggling her feet by the fire, trying to warm them.
'I'm Anna. Here, let me look at those.'
After dropping a few crushed leaves into the warming water, Anna knelt down to examine Dosia's feet. Peeling away what little remained of the leggings that surrounded them, she felt them.
'Well, I don't think you have any touch of the frost, Dosia. You are very lucky.' Anna, momentarily entranced by the beauty of Dosia's feet, slowly caressed them. Regaining her composure, she smiled at the pleasant memories of Rome, and looked at Dosia's hands.
'None here, either. By the Gods, what were you doing running through the snow in such a state...' Anna trailed off, again seeing Dosia's bare breast and the swirling tattoos around the firmly erect nipple.
Seeing the look on Anna's face, Dosia looked down. 'Oh,' she said, pulling the remains of her tunic over herself. 'My...my garment tore...when I was...running from...from the...'. Dosia began sobbing quietly.
'Hush, now,' Anna said, suddenly feeling horrible for the girl's predicament and her own reawakened sexual responses. 'Everything is alright now.'
Anna held Dosia for a few moments, softly stroking her hair as the young woman fought back tears. Looking up, she saw the sleeping form of Flavius turned away from her.
Dosia pulled back. 'I...could I have something warm...to...'.
Smiling at Dosia, Anna got up. Taking a cup from the nearby table, she dipped it in the warm brew from the pot and gave it to Dosia. Anna, watching the woman drink, noticed more of the circling tattoos on her shoulders and neck.
'I've never seen...um, I should get those wet clothes off, if I were you. They will just keep the chill in you, and may attract some sickness.'
Dosia nodded, handing the cup back to Anna. Shrugging the fur off from her shoulders, she pulled the torn and tattered leggings from her legs, exposing long, pale, beautiful limbs, with more of the tattoos along the sides.
Anna took the garments, looking at the patterns on the young woman. 'I have never seen body art in quite that pattern, before. It is very striking.'
Dosia looked up. 'They are mystic circles A...Anna. My mistress drew them on me herself.' Tears began to well up in her eyes again, and she looked back down.
'Oh, dear, I'm sorry to upset you,' Anna said.
Shaking her head, Dosia said 'Its...its just that I don't know what happened to her. After the hunters came, I mean.'
'Who are these hunters?'
Dosia paused. 'Some men with wolves came to our village. They were looking for ...for witches.'
Anna refilled the cup. 'And your mistress...she is a witch?'
Dosia sniffed. 'No. Not quite...yes, I suppose you could call her that. Something like that anyway. We both...well, I was learning. My mistress, she is that...that and much more.'
Anna sat down beside Dosia, handing her the refilled cup. 'I don't understand, dear. Who would hunt witches? All the villages here have their own, and even the Roman soldiers wouldn't...'
As Dosia removed her tunic, Anna stopped talking. Dosia had the most beautiful breasts she had ever seen, and they were only accentuated by the mystic tattoo pattern around them. The tattoos traced back up on to her shoulders and down her arms. Looking lower, there was a tattoo pattern around Dosia's belly, drawing Anna's eyes down to her red pubic hair. It was then that Anna realized that Dosia did not have brown hair, but dark red hair; it had just been matted down with twigs and dirt.
'It is something different that witchcraft that we...we practice, though,' Dosia continued, pulling the fur back over her shoulders. She seemed not to notice the look on Anna's face. 'Something from before the time of Egypt's founders. It is the way of Life, of Release, and of Power.'
Distracted by the growing warmth in her own flesh at the sight of this beautiful young woman, Anna took a moment before responding. 'I...I don't...I still don't get why those men...'
