The knife in my hand…

Hey guys, I have another prompt today!!! 😀 Enjoy!

I don’t know what the man was doing in the room, I hoped he was sleeping. If he wasn’t, and he got up and found me in here packing…well that wouldn’t be good. I grabbed sack off the kitchen wall, and shoved some food in it. I peeked out my front door at my sun dial; I had time to leave today. I strapped my hunting knife to my thigh.
“What should I bring? I don’t even know where I plan on going. I wish I had a cart, and then I could take everything.” I mumbled to myself, as I dug around in the cellar, looking for anything that I might need.
The pile of sacks that I was putting things in was growing steadily. I paused in my packing for a moment and stared gloomily at the pile. I had no idea how I was going to carry all of that.
“Dufus,” I grumbled, my face breaking into a smile. “The man had a horse, you can just take that.”
I snickered, and grabbing the sacks, I, one by one, pulled them outside. I stacked them carefully by the door. I was completely satisfied with my packing, I was sure I had gotten everything.
I grabbed my bow, and quiver of arrows that still lay by the door and stepped outside. The man was right outside the door, waiting for me. My knife was out of my sheath in a flash. But he was just as fast as I was, and he pinned my hand to the side of the house. My knife slipped from my hand, it hung suspended in the air for a second, before falling to the ground.
The man looked at me, I met his gaze, and instantly regretted it. He knew, he knew who I was.

What do you think? 🙂

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