She went into the woods without fanfare and offered a small gift to the denizens near her home to leave her at peace. It was common sense, really. A gift for a gift. Wasn’t that what all the old stories recommend? In turn, she stayed only long enough to check her traps or bring down game if she was so fortunate. She never ventured deep into the forests and never forgot to leave a small portion of the bloody meat behind as payment. Diana could feel the eyes of strange beings touching her, cold and alien… and always hungry.
She never forgot to feed them.
Perhaps that was why she was left alone when others reported disturbances that plagued them. The sort of idiots who wanted to drive deep into the woods to hunt for game, intruding empty-handed. Let them. They were always chased out for their efforts, even when they managed to bring down game to carry with them in their escape.
Diana had no such problems.
Dropping her bow to grip it in one hand, she strode into the trees, taking the same route she always took along the smaller game trails, hazel eyes focused on the path. The breeze ruffled her bangs and toyed with the long end of her braid. The lower three quarters was platinum blonde from her last dye job that faded into her natural brown hair. She felt it swing behind her, safely out of the reach of treacherous branches.
It didn’t take her long to arrive at the fallen trunk where she left her offerings. As always, the immediate area was absolutely silent. Though ragged from where it split, the rest of the length buried in the grasses and brush to the left of it, the tree trunk was like a short pillar that came up to her hip when she stood in front of it. The papery gray bark of the birch tree peeled in numerous places. On the altar, dipped at a slight angle in the only smooth part of the trunk, a small bowl and cup sat in the same place as always, never moved. Not once in the four years she had been coming into the forest had it been disturbed. Yet every time she entered the woods, the dishes were clean and waiting for her. A movement in the distance drew her attention, and she squinted through the trees.
Nothing.
A puzzled frown marred her brow, but she bent to leave her usual offerings. In the bowl, she placed a small chunk of bread and several strawberries from her garden. She removed the flask from the inner pocket of her leather vest and poured the mixture she had made earlier that morning of honey and milk into the cup. Returning the lid to the flask, she tucked it back into her vest pocket and stepped back from the makeshift altar. Her eyes scanned the trees surrounding her as she spoke.
“Whoever you may be, accept this small gift for safe passage in my hunt. A gift for a gift.”
She waited for the usual sign of acceptance, not daring to move so much as a step away from the altar, not daring even a breath. The branches rustled as a wind blew through from deeper in the woods, the limbs bowing to her. Her breath left her in a loud exhalation. She never took it for granted that whatever lurked nearby in this part of the wood would comply and was always relieved when permission came. On the same token, she never breached the creek some few miles away that bisected the woods. Although it was possibly not a territory boundary, she chose not to take the chance with anything unknown on the other side.
Whispering her thanks, Diana strode deeper among the trees, heading toward where she knew the first of her traps awaited. The change in atmosphere was immediate. The moment she cleared the area and lost sight of the altar, birdsong burst around her, and the hum of insects filled the air. She relaxed somewhat, as much as she could with the awareness of being watched skating over her skin. She had grown used to it, and so it had become background noise over those few years.
The bushes to her side rustled, and Diana stopped and frowned at the spot. That was unusual. She waited to see if any animal would dart out, but all movement stopped. Her skin crawled. She didn’t feel threatened, but the feeling