The Bakery

After running for what seemed like an eternity, I eventually saw the outskirts of the human settlement, Eira had told me about. I wanted to crash in the woods for some time, just to scan and observe from a safe distance but at the same time, I understood that the pack and possibly the recent rival wolf were thoroughly searching for me and might soon catch up.

So I had no choice but to try and blend in with everyone. And possibly find a job to sustain me ASAP. I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't even notice that it was already nighttime. Some things are normal in wolf packs but in human settlements, it might be totally the opposite and I wasn't about to land in another guard's custody on my first day here. 

So I moved swiftly and silently through the outskirts, my feet barely touching the ground. My eyes darted from shadow to shadow, looking for a place to hide until dawn, when the townspeople would wake up and hopefully provide me with the cover I desperately needed.

Luckily for me I  quickly spotted a small shed, its walls weathered and its roof patched up. It looked deserted, a perfect place to rest. After sniffing around and making sure that it wasn't occupied by anyone I cautiously sneaked in and made my way inside. 

I sneaked inside, careful to make no sound. The space was cramped and smelled of old hay, but it was shelter nonetheless. By the look of things it was going to run tonight and I wasn't planning to be stuck on the open with no shelter. This shed was a perfect place for me to catch my breath, and plan my next move.

Though I was extremely tired, I kept watch for a couple of hours. As the hours ticked by, exhaustion finally settled in. My muscles ached, my head throbbing with the aftermath of the fight. I climbed to the roof by the haystacks and found a hidden spot by the rafters. I collapsed onto the hay, the need for sleep overpowering my need for alertness.

My dreams were filled with images of the pack, my family's betrayal and the what ifs. I worried mostly about Eira and what could have become of her. It was a blur of fur, escape, and all the confusion.

When I finally awoke, the sun was just beginning to rise, its golden rays peeking through the cracks in the shed’s walls.

I stretched out my limbs, wincing at the soreness that had settled into my body. The previous night’s events came rushing back to me, and I knew I  had to act cautiously if I wanted to continue being free.

I peeked through the cracks in the shed, surveying the settlement. It was a quiet, sleepy town, the streets empty save for a few early risers going about their business.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the challenge ahead. I ate a few pieces of the biltong I took from the cottage. I also ate some dried fruit mixture that I couldn't quite place. But it was delicious and fulfilling. I topped that with the water I collected from the stream and I felt very strengthened for the day. 

The air was a bit chilly, just the way I love it. And the village began to stir with the first stirrings of life. I slipped out of the shed, careful to keep to avoid drawing attention.

A bakery sat at the end of the street, its windows throwing warm, yellow light onto the cobblestones. The mouth-watering aroma of fresh bread and pastries wafted towards me, tempting me and reminding me of my luxurious family meals. 

I crept towards the bakery, still trying to avoid being the centre of attention. I knew my disguise might work, but I  couldn’t afford to take any chances.

The sound of jingling bells marked the arrival of a plump, middle-aged man who approached the bakery’s entrance. He stopped, dramatically sniffing the air appreciatively, as if wafting the aroma into his face, before pushing open the big door and getting in. 

As he stepped inside, I seized the opportunity and slipped through the still-open door. The bell rang again, but the man was too busy greeting a young woman behind the counter to notice me. He seemed like a very happy customer as he smiled and admired the racks with all the bread and delicacies. 

The scent of warm bread and buttery croissants wafted towards me, and I almost regretted getting into this bakery. As on cue, a dozen other clients rushed into the bakery and they all stood by the counter.

The young woman, with her blonde hair tied in a loose bun and flour dusting her apron, smiled warmly at the man. “Good morning, Mr Samuel! How can we help you today?”

“Good morning, Molly!” the man replied, his jowls jiggling as he smiled. “I’m here for my usual dozen.”

As they chatted amiably, I slipped into the next aisle, staying out of sight as I made my way towards what seemed like the back of the bakery.

I moved along the wall, taking care not to bump into any of the shelves laden with freshly baked goods.

At the back of the bakery, I found a small,  room with a faint light coming from within. I inched closer, the smell of yeast and flour growing stronger.

Through a crack in the door, I saw an older woman with beautiful dark hair bent over a bowl of dough, kneading it with practised skill. I could hear her humming a soft tune to herself, her attention fully absorbed in her work.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself to make my presence known. “Um, excuse me?” I whispered, my voice surprisingly steady.

The woman jumped, startled by my sudden appearance. She spun around, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice high and suspicious. She cautiously took a few steps away from me. 

“I’m sorry,” I replied quickly, stepping into the room. “I'm sorry if I shouldn't have come this side, but I thought maybe I'll see an office or something. I'm new here and I was looking for work and I thought this might be a good place to start.” I quickly splurted, afraid that she might scream and everyone would rush in to attack me without hearing anything first. 

The woman's eyes narrowed, suspicion still clouding her expression. “You think we need help?”

“Well,” I said, putting on my best pleading expression, “from the look of things, you could use another set of hands. And I’m willing to work hard.”

The woman considered my words, her gaze searching my face. “And why’re you out looking for work at this hour?” she asked.

I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal.

I took a deep breath, deciding to gamble on the truth. “I’ve run away from a bad situation,” I admitted. “I need a new start, and I thought maybe you could use an extra pair of hands.”