Spere had fallen asleep. She couldn't be sure as to when, but when she awoke, chaos ensued.

First, she heard an unfamiliar voice. A masculine voice.

"Finally, you're awake," he said. Spere wiped her eyes with her sleeves. Her face was still sore and raw from the cold wind the night before. The brightness was blinding. It was daytime.

"Could you have thought of something any more cliche to say than that?" Spere asked nonchalantly, her head hurting, unrecognizing of her surroundings.

The boy chuckled, "Smart one, huh?" He had a bit of an accent, like an Australian accent, but Spere couldn't place exactly what the accent meant. He stood over Spere. She remained on the ground. She was exhausted and didn't bother with him much, seeming nothing but bothered by his mere existence.

"Who are you?" Spere finally asked after a length of annoyed silence.

"I'm what you would call a savage," he said, looking away from her. Spere cautiously rose to her feet so she could see his face better, shocked at the words. She would be lying if she said she wasn't struck with fear. Savages had killed that girl in the store she'd found. She touched the necklace again, its constant presence comforting her. She wondered why anyone would ever openly label themselves as a savage. She wondered if he took pride in his savagery. He didn't seem very dangerous, to say the least.

The boy didn't wear a mask, but at the moment, Spere didn't wear one, either. He was taller than her, but he appeared to be the same age. He was young, for sure. He had wiry blonde hair that layed in front of his eyes, and tanned skin. He smiled slightly, "Don't take this the wrong way, but technically, I'm supposed to be like, kidnapping you."

"What?" Spere couldn't see this gangly, wide-smiling boy as being a threat at all. But she figured it would be smart not to underestimate him. And, she was feeling groggy still. It was hard to wake up completely. "Why? Where are my friends?"

"They ran away. My friends are pursuing them."

Spere's eyes widened, "Are you serious? Which direction?" The fear in her became prominent worry.

The blonde boy pointed out the door, down the road, and away from Spere's base, "That way."

"And they didn't get me?" Spere asked in disbelief. It all felt like a dream. "How did they get out of the hole?"

"They were in that hole?" The boy leaned over the edge of the wooden floor to peer downwards. He turned back to Spere and shrugged.

Spere shook her head, "I have to go after them."

"Yeah, that's gonna be a problem. I'm ordered to keep you here and question you," He said. Spere glared at the boy. His messy blonde hair, and loose, thick clothes. He could very well have a weapon on him, concealed by his oversized sweater or his sweats. But Spere knew it would have to be something small- a dagger, or a small blade. Spere herself didn't have a weapon, and suddenly wished she had taken Fallen World up on her offer. Why hadn't she?

"Where's Mayhem? He was seriously hurt," Spere asked, eyes watery. She prayed she would see him again, soon.

"Oh, a group of my people took him back to our camp so he could get medical care," the boy explained.

"You didn't kill him? You have medical supplies? I thought you guys were savages..." Spere had so many questions. How had she slept through this? The boy looked her up and down, and suddenly Spere felt self-conscious.

He said, "You look like a savage, to me."

Spere narrowed her eyes, "So what if I was?"

"Wait? You used to be?" He asked skeptically, eyebrow raised, and head slightly tilted.

Spere nodded slowly, "Yeah, my parents." She felt nothing saying it. The fact no longer bothered her. It just was.

"Just people," the boy said, understanding.

Spere gave him a look, "Yeah."

"Most of us, anyways." Spere wondered what this meant. A moment of silence passed. The boy's eyes were distant as he looked at the snowy setting outside, lost in deep thought. Perfect timing, Spere thought, seizing the opportunity while he was distracted. In an instant, Spere was out the door, running through the stiff ankle-deep snow, crunching through the thin layer of solid ice that had formed over the top of it overnight. The boy began to chase after her, but fell into the snow. It was apparent that he was inexperienced with things like this. Spere wondered what kind of sheltered life he must live to be inexperienced running in snow. In a way, she envied him.

But, she couldn't think about that now. She focused on the road ahead of her, the pounding of her legs, and the sound of how close the boy was behind her.

"Stop!" He yelled breathlessly. Spere did not stop. She was amused that he would even ask her to do so.

She began to yell, "Stonehenge! Fallen!" Her eyes darted side to side, searching, scanning. The possibility that the boy had given her the wrong direction crossed her mind, and she suddenly felt foolish. She needed the truth.

Her pant legs were wet at this point, but she ignored it, her skin numb and muscles sore. Instead, Spere veered off to her left, and jumped full-speed into the nearest building's doorway. Quickly, she raced into a small carpeted hallway, chunks of snow falling from her pants, and began to search the rooms for something, anything. She pulled mattresses off their stands, opened broken drawers, and pulled the locked closet doors off their hinges. She heard the boy yell something from outside. He was looking for her. Unsuccessfully, at that. Still, her heart thumped in her chest, panic making her limbs wibble.

Ba-dump.
Da-dump.

Breathless and heart racing, Spere moved on to the final bedroom with tunnel vision. Again, she threw over the mattress, searched underneath the bed frame, and tore down the closet doors. Finally, she found something hiding in plain sight- a couple of aesthetic samurai swords hung on the wall, next to a crooked picture frame. How had she not noticed them? She cursed herself for it. Then, she silently prayed they were real. She'd seen similar ones before, but they were always blunt on the ends: manufactured only to be displayed.

She removed the largest katana. It had a good weight to it, and she held it comfortably. That was a good sign.

Slowly, she pulled the cover off, and cautiously dragged a hand across the blade, admiring the glow it had. It struck her painfully, and she lifted her hand to see a streak of blood. Not only was it real, but it was beautiful and sharp. Spere held it firmly with both hands, a sense of pride and nervousness in her chest. She'd never actually fought anyone before, much less with an actual weapon. She didn't want to hurt the boy. But, she at least needed something to intimidate him with.

He burst into the bedroom with heavy steps, and stood in the doorway, panting, swaying, "There you are!", his finger pointed at her accusedly. As if she had done something wrong for escaping her kidnapper.

Spere held the end of the blade towards him menacingly, "One move and I'll cut you."

He held his hands up sarcastically in surrender, clearly annoyed with the girl, "Okay, okay. C'mon. The gang will kill me if they see you're not back. I'll even let you keep the sword."

"No. Where are my friends? Did you lead me the wrong way? Were they already captured?"

He growled, "Lady, I don't know! All I know is they ran the way I showed you. They haven't come back yet."

Spere glared at him, "They wouldn't leave without me."

"But they did!" She glared at him coldly, inching closer to him, the sharp end of the blade slowly closing in on his throat. "Fine! Fine! I'll go with you to find them. My people could use the backup, and you'll find out what you want to know," He said, exasperated.

Spere held her sword down and chuckled, "You're really bad at holding people hostage."

The boy chuckled, "Yeah, it's my first time. And you've got the weapon... Can I have one?"

"A sword?"

"Yeah. There's three of them," he said.

Spere, despite her best judgement, stepped to the side,"Sure. It's only fair if we each have one." What am I doing?

He stepped forward slowly, and pulled the middle one off the wall. He admired it, pulling off the case, and allowing it to glimmer in the dim window light, the same way Spere had. Spere walked out the door while he was sidetracked.

She was outside the house in the snow by the time the boy had caught up to her.

"Wait a minute!" He said.

"You're slow." She scoffed. He adjusted the sword in his hands and didn't respond. A moment passed. Then, Spere asked, "What's your name?"

"Windy," he replied. "Yours?"

"Spere."

The two travelled for a long while through the snow, swords in hand. Spere didn't have her bag or mask with her, and felt oddly lightweight, and more prominently: vulnerable. Although, the boy didn't have anything with him, either. She wondered if he usually did or not.

Finally, as they were searching with their eyes, and peeking in through buildings, they heard a distant yell. A couple of voices. To Spere, familiar voices.

"That's them!" Spere said excitedly. She hooked the sword to her belt the best she could, fumbling with a clip and cussing, her nerves getting the better of her, and then began to race towards the sound. She made a few turns in the road, the voices echoing off of abandoned building walls. Finally, she saw some figures fighting on the snowy road up ahead. Windy ran beside her, his eyes wide with worry. Spere, on the other hand, was insanely excited. But also worried. A good mix of the two, really.

Three men, likely in their early twenties, and Stonehenge and Fallen World. Fallen World had been pinned into the snow on her back by a larger man, and Stonehenge was fist-fighting one of the other men. The third one, a smaller man, struggled to grab Stonehenge and pull him back. Stonehenge jumped back and forth with skill.

Spere feared for her friend's life. Without a second thought, she charged, her sword in hand. She caught the smaller man off-guard, and thwacked the side of his neck with her sword.

It didn't hit the flat end of the blade and bounce and waver or shatter and break like the weapons she was used to. It sliced, almost straight through. The blade tore skin, ripped muscle, and thwunked into bone. Spere pulled her weapon back as quickly as she had hit him, though it was difficult, the blade having been lodged in bone like an axe in a trunk. Blood ran all down the burly man's side, and he fell to the ground without a sound, gripping his throat with his hands. Scarlet blood seeped into the snow, and splattered on the cold ground in front of Spere with stunning vibrancy. Her once glimmering sword was now streaked with magnificently bright velvet. It was an oddly beautiful thing, the blood-drenched sword. The way the red droplets contrasted against the blinding white snow.

But the man, who lay unmoving on the snow in front of her now, was not a beautiful thing. She slowly stepped back, and her legs buckled. She dropped the sword, and fell to the ground on her knees. Tears she was unaware of ran down her face and the world ceased to exist. She'd never killed anyone before, and the reality of it seeped in colder than the snow beneath her.

Someone put their arms around her shaking shoulders, and pulled her close, their breath warm on her ear. She could barely see, could barely snap herself out of the guilt and amazement and grief that kept her planted where she was.

"Stonehenge?" She asked quietly, her voice thick and hoarse.

"Windy," He corrected her. Spere leaned into him, and he held his arms around her ribs in a tight embrace. She didn't know why. Her mind wasn't thinking right. Her eyes wouldn't move from the man on the ground in front of her even though she didn't want to look at him any longer. The other two men kneeled down beside him now, hands on his wound pathetically, murmuring prayers, ignoring the people whom they had been fighting. Spere blinked, and finally forced herself to look at Stonehenge instead. She had been successful. He was already running away, Fallen World beside him. He paused for a moment, skidding in the snow, and flipped around to gesture frantically at Spere with his hands.

Spere realized now that Windy was holding her to restrain her, to ensure she didn't escape, and not to comfort her. He had already messed up by allowing her to go find her friends and kill a man; he couldn't mess up again. Spere knew she couldn't take off after her friends and still end up alive. Not with her weak limbs, and not with the bounty on her head now. Plus, if she stayed behind, then her friends would have a better chance of escaping. She could create a distraction. She turned away from Stonehenge, and prayed he knew what she meant, and ran away without a second thought.

"Why didn't you run with your friends?" Windy asked quietly. Calmly.

"They're not my friends," Spere lied. Her mind was more collected now. She knew that she had to convince Windy that she was on his side. It wouldn't take much to make the boy lower his guard again. She couldn't think of much of a plan past that.

"You sure acted like they were," Windy said, pulling her closer to him. Spere felt uncomfortable now, and shifted away from him slightly.

She said, "I thought they were."

One of the men spoke, "She's the killer!"

"She's just a girl," Windy growled. "She didn't know what she was doing." Was he defending her? Spere hated his presence. She hated him, and the other two men, too. She was brimming over-powering hate.

"She killed a full grown man. She knew fair well what she was doing," the man said. Spere hadn't.

Windy responded, "No. She wanted to save her own. Any of us would've done the same thing. Boss won't care. Just another body."

"He had a name," the man said, standing up, and wiping his hands off on his pants. The blood was dark against the fabric.

"Let's poison her. We're supposed to kill anyone who disobeys us," the second man said, a bit too enthusiastically. He stood up next to the other man. Spere thought of the dead woman she'd found. Poisoned. Thoughts, fears, and questions skittered in her mind now. Had they killed the woman she'd found?

"We aren't the bird folk. We don't poison people. And what was his name then?" Windy challenged. Bird folk? The two men glared down at the boy, but didn't say anything. "She didn't disobey us. She just did what she thought was right."

"She disobeyed you!" One of the men yelled. Spere knew very well she hadn't. Well, she had at first, but then the boy had told her in fact that she could go and find her friends.

Spere pulled away from the boy and spoke up, a bit shakily, feeling as if she should speak, feeling as if she owed the boy something, "You're right, I disobeyed. But I won't again. Those people- I can't be friends with people who run away and don't help their friends. You guys? You went straight to the rescue of this man. They didn't." The two men glanced at each other skeptically.

Spere, at this point, was simply trying to save her own ass. Her head had cleared, and she cursed herself for not running when given the chance. But the time for fighting was gone. The best thing she could do now was make friends with them. She wondered how she would ever find her friends again. If she would ever find them again.

She wanted her group to go back to the way it was just a few days before- before she found the body of the woman. She wondered again if Windy's group was the cause of that. It didn't seem so; it sounded like whoever the bird folk were were responsible for the woman's murder. Spere mindlessly gripped the cross that hung from her neck in the palm of her hand. Her knuckles were white, she clenched so strongly. It didn't change anything, but it was something familiar, and it brought comfort to her.

Finally, then, one of the men huffed, "We'll take her as a prisoner. Maybe Boss'll make fine use of her." Spere wondered what exactly that meant, but as her imagination ran, she suddenly decided it was nothing good. Maybe she would be enslaved. She decided that she needed to escape as soon as she could.

Windy got to his feet, and brushed the sticky snow from his pants. He stepped back as one of the men, the heavier one, pulled a rope from his pockets and tied it around Spere's hands. Then, he yanked her up off the ground. The rope burned her wrists, but she knew to bite her tongue about it.

The group trudged through the snow for hours. Spere failed to see any way of escape. She needed to find Stonehenge and Fallen World. They were lingering persistently on her mind. She felt scared, now. Worried, cold, and scared. She'd never felt quite like this before. It was dizzying in the worst kind of way.

The men dragged her by a rope like a leash that tied to her hands. She felt like a slave, like the ones that had been talked about in the books she'd read.

Eventually, once her ankles were wet and her legs sore, Spere and the others found themselves in a large circle suburb, a sort of community, made up of small shed-type buildings and large cages. Bags of seeds, hay, animal feed, and other preserved items lay everywhere- stacked against the side of metal lean-tos next to rows of wet wood logs, opened and torn across the concrete ground, and piled up at the entrance of the place. Outside, dirty snow was piled as tall as a man, having been pushed out from the campus. The ground, once inside the main entrance, was clear of snow.

Above the guarded entrance, which consisted of large metal-wire doors, was a large metal sign that simply read, "Zoo". Spere knew exactly what this meant. She'd read in books plenty of times about zoos and the strange animals that were contained there. This must be their base, she concluded silently.

It was a relief on her legs to walk on concrete instead of through snow. The guards had let them in with just a few nods.

"I'll take her to Boss," Windy said, taking Spere's rope in his hands. The two men hesitated before nodding. Then, they stood and conversed as Windy led Spere away. They walked through a winding concrete path through the zoo for a while. On the walk, the sky began to grow dark and murky blue. Daytime never lasted long.

They walked past small restroom buildings, old concession stands, large buildings and small sheds with glass windows that, surprisingly, weren't broken. But most of all, they passed cages. Many, many cages. Huge kennels, with the other side of the fence so far away the eye could barely see it. A few had snow in them, piled up, nearly as tall as the double wire fences themselves. Other cages were empty, with snow-free dirt floors. And some had tents set up, or make-shift dens that had been built, or holes in the ground, or covered mattresses and make-shift carport-type structures to protect blankets and mattresses from snow and rain. The zoo had been turned into a village of sorts. All Spere could do was stare in awe at the things that the savages had built.

Finally, she said, "You've got a whole town here!"

Windy chuckled, "About so." A moment of silence passed.

Spere finally asked, "Where are we going?"

"Don't you have ears? The Boss. He'll decide your fate," Windy said, a bit irritated. Spere furrowed her brows and glared at Windy in a spiteful response. He didn't notice. Then, suddenly, she broke into a coughing fit, freezing in place. Windy waited for a moment, until she was done wheezing, and then continued dragging her along.

He said, "Side effect of the dirty air?"

Spere nodded and sniffed, "Doesn't it happen to you?"

"Nah, I'm built different."