While his headache had faded slightly, the memories of the previous evening had not. He sat up slowly and rubbed his forehead and temples gently in a mildly successful attempt to relieve the lingering pressure in his head. Time would be needed to subdue it any farther. The headache was predictable after what had occurred. The strain of keeping the prowler from roaming his mind unopposed and to keep the mystery woman hidden had been intense. It was fortuitous that the explosion had drawn the prowler’s attention when it did. He didn’t think it was wise to bet that luck or fate would intervene like that again. Best not to tempt either.
The man turned his attention to the woman for whom he had turned his world upside down in an instant. Her sleep didn’t look anymore restful now than his had been. He watched her for several minutes. She tossed her head from side to side and mumbled to herself. He strained to make out anything from what she was saying, but the only word that seemed clear was the repeated word, “no.”
He studied her for a brief time, trying to piece together more about her. The shirt she wore was stained and thinning, and the one remaining long sleeve had a small tear at the elbow. Her cloak, however, seemed to be in somewhat better shape. The fabric was thick, dark green, and had a sheen to it. Many questions about her remained, but one thing seemed definite—her life had not been an easy one, even by current standards in Obsidia.
He peered outside the hollow that had been their refuge for the evening. Dawn was just beginning to pierce through the night sky, and the rain had eased off. It was now only a fine mist. He knew they would need to leave soon. Putting more distance between Serenity Falls and themselves was imperative if there was any chance of avoiding the prowler. The one he suspected had not been swayed from pursuing them.
The man removed a small loaf of dense bread from his bag and then began to quietly pack up everything else. He let her sleep as long as possible. Restless sleep was still sleep, and from what he could gather, she probably had not slept any other way for a very long time. He placed the last of his items in his pack and fastened it securely, before looking at the still slumbering woman. Well, time to see if you are a morning person, he thought, with a smile. He placed his hand lightly on her left arm and quietly whispered, “Rise and shine.”
Nev felt the sudden rush of adrenaline pour into her sleeping mind. Her thoughts all shouted the same message to her: wake up! She sat up instantly, pushing herself backward quickly until her back was firmly against the dirt wall of the hollow. Her cloak laid abandoned where she’d been sleeping moments before. Her eyes remained heavy and slow to focus, but she could still sense someone was with her.
“Woah!” the man said in response to her abrupt movements. “Clearly not a morning person.” Chuckling softly, he stared at her.
Nev rubbed her eyes and blinked out the last remnants of sleep. She stared at the man kneeling across from her and sighed heavily. Her fleeting hope that the prowler she encountered had been a nightmare confined to her sleeping mind evaporated before him. A heavy feeling took hold of her.
He smiled at her, “Good morning.”
Nev just stared at the man in response. He appeared to be close to her in age and was dressed in comfortable and practical clothing. His dark brown leather pants, jacket, and boots nicely complimented his dark green tunic. It was quite similar in color to her cloak. She also spied a flash of purple tied around his belt in the form of a long sash.
His brow furrowed, and he cocked his head slightly at her.
Nev felt him studying her, and it made her uneasy. She glanced at the ground before turning her attention to her wounded shoulder. It was still aching, but the pain had subsided substantially. Her shoulder had been cleaned and wrapped securely and neatly with fresh bandages.
“Pretty nasty wound you have there. It would do better if we could find the right herbs or something. Should heal alright without them, however. Provided we keep it clean, and you don’t get hit with anything else there for at least a week or two,” the man said, watching as she examined her shoulder.
Nev nodded slightly in response.
The man laughed softly, “Well, Addi is sure to like you. She always says I talk far too much.”
Nev looked up at him with a slightly confused look on her face.
“You know, it just dawned on me that we were never properly introduced. It must have been the threat of immediate pain and death that threw off my normally perfect decorum. I’m Wyatt Jaxson, pleased to meet you,” he greeted while extending his hand towards her.
Nev stared at his hand for a moment. She normally endeavored to avoid interacting with other people at all. There were exceptions, of course. Occasionally, she would meet or even seek out someone she needed information or services from. Those interactions were kept brief and narrow in scope. Her name, however, was not something she gave out often. It could be used to track her movements, something she endeavored to avoid at all costs.
The last time she had shared it with someone was almost half a year ago. She had come across a small boy that had become separated from his family. He knew which village they were headed towards, but not how to get there. She remembered him being brave beyond his years. He was about the same age she had been when she suddenly found herself alone. Maybe that is why she stopped and why she helped, and perhaps that is why she had given him her name—even though
