A/N - This is my first time writing anything for others to see, so apologies if it's a little messy! I haven't got a clear plan for this story, so if you think it's worth continuing let me know. Thanks!
The girl had been running for weeks now and exhaustion was setting in. She stumbled over rocks that she'd previously flown over, branches and brambles scratching their talons across her whole body, seeming so similar to the unfamiliar hands that had tried to do the same just hours ago. She'd tried to be so careful, only stopping if her body demanded it, and even then not for long. She 'd wrapped her hair (if you could even call it that anymore) into a dirty shawl, keeping her eyes down at all times, and accepted food with a quick, shaking hand, eyes always darting to the nearest exits in case they found her again. And now they had.
The girl furiously wiped a few tears from her eyes as she stopped and took in her surroundings. She was in a small clearing in the woods, with a small well in the centre and flowers dotted around the lush grass like beads on a priestess' robe. Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming from her left. They'd finally found her. She spun, eyes darting around the glade for the most climbable tree but finding nothing. She quickly bent down and eased a small, ornate dagger out of her boot. Accepting her fate, she slowly raised her eyes to meet those of her executioner…
There was a young woman standing front of her. She was dressed in a simple white chiton, the uneven stitching showing that it was definitely homemade. Her face was lovely, despite the long, jagged scars that ran down her left cheek like a scatter of lightning. What was most surprising about her was her eyes. They were a cloudy pale colour, like watery milk. The stranger held out her hand, almost impatiently, and shifted her basket of her herbs up her other arm. Then she opened her mouth and spoke with a soft but commanding voice.
"You are Medusa then?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." the girl whispered hurriedly, hand still gripping her dagger. She had worked so hard to keep that cursed name a secret, and yet this stranger knew it without even seeing her face.
"You are safe now, but follow me or we won't be for long."
Medusa weighed her options. Stay, and keep running until she ran into her grave, or put her fate into a stranger's hands, possibly to be lead into a trap. Although this girl seemed honest enough, she had learned from experience that the most perfect of people were usually the most dangerous. This decision was the best of two bad options. Besides, this woman probably had food, shelter, maybe even a bath if she was lucky. She was just so tired.
Medusa heard faint footsteps coming from the opposite side of the glade.
"Come on!" the women hissed, features contorted with frustration and panic. "If you stay, you'll find that there are things in these woods that would make your stalkers look like bunnies in a flower field!"
Medusa cast another wary eye toward the woman, making her decision. She softly stood and walked on unsteady feet towards her outstretched hand and clasped it, surprised to feel rough, callused fingers firmly grip her own. With one cautious look back into the glade, Medusa was lead into the darkness of the wood.