I am not alone now.
Ingram followed next to the female as she took the lead, tilting his head one way and then the other while ducking around trees to stay with her.
“Should we not be going west?” he asked, unsure of why she was taking them this way. “We are north of the Veil’s canyon.”
The crack of earth that spanned across the entire world from west to east was relatively narrow in comparison. They were currently north of it, so it made sense to go west from their current location.
Holding onto the strap of her bag directly between the two generous mounds on her chest, Emerie blew a stray strand of waving red hair from her face. “Yes, it would probably be faster to go straight from here, but then we’ll be entering a dangerous territory.”
His head rattled like dry bones were trapped inside his skull. “But I will protect us.”
Does she not think I am strong? His sight wandered to the side as annoyance spiked in his chest, bruising his ego. Does she think I am weak because I was bound so helplessly?
That wasn’t fair. His trappings had been tight within that dungeon. His captors had also made sure to anchor all of his moveable joints, ensuring he couldn’t rip his own limbs off to escape.
Shouldn’t that show how formidable he was?
“It’ll only add a few extra days if we go south first. The north has more shade because of the trees and is closer to many mountain ranges. Whereas there’s a large expanse of fields south of the Veil. That means less Demons, and…” She peeked over to him. “The northern Demonslayer sector is larger. Zagros Fortress has probably already sent messenger birds to all the guild sectors with my description and crimes. Sometimes a human hiding in the shadows with a bow and arrow is more dangerous than a Demon. You don’t hear your death coming.”
“But I cannot die,” he answered. At least… not so easily.
“But I can.” She smiled as she spoke the words, yet it didn’t reach her eyes. “Plus, say they missed and only cut me instead. My blood would send you into a frenzy, correct? Accidents happen, but it’s best to do everything in our power to prevent them.”
Ingram decided to let it go and just follow her, having to slow his pace to a snail’s crawl to stay by her side. Her breaths were sharp, like she was exerting herself, but she never changed the pace of her determined march. The entire time, her shoulders were firmly rolled back, her spine straight, and her head high.
Ingram eventually dropped back slightly so he could inspect her freely without her knowledge. He made sure his foot and hand steps were quiet as he came inches from her back and sniffed.
That possessive scent is no longer on her, he thought as he took in her sweet smell, nearly shuddering at it. When she touched me, what came from me smelt similar.
Was that why she hadn’t wanted it to be on her, so he couldn’t leave his own possessive marking on her? Why not? Ingram didn’t think he was too bad.
He had a pretty skull in comparison to the other Mavka. He didn’t have snapping sharp fangs, and his horns weren’t tall and daunting; instead, they were rather stout. He was the only one he knew of with a beak. He figured these differences made him better.
He came around the other side of Emerie and snuck another sniff of her. He wouldn’t mind shielding her mouthwatering smell with his own, ensuring no one else could take it in. Instead, they would only be reminded of his presence.
I do not know how to do that, or why I even want to.
His sight shifted over the mounds on her chest, the plumpness of her backside, and back up to her narrow waist. He deemed all of them insignificant, instead checking over her thighs and biceps to assess whether or not she was a strong human who could survive this travel with him.
His sight lifted to her face, taking in her light skin, the white scarring on the left side of her face, and the dirt sprinkled on her. Even though she still, apparently, needed a bath, he couldn’t help finding her attractive.
Perhaps, even… the prettiest human he’d ever seen.
That might solely be based on the fact that she’d been kind to him, saved him, had touched him with profound pleasure, and had a goal that resonated with his own. Plus, her eyes were like cold water, yet they held such warmth that even the sun was cooler in their presence. They were framed by long, curling orange lashes, reminding him of a winter sunrise streaking over a frozen lake. He could remember sitting next to Aleron one dawn, watching it under the blanket of his big and heavy wing.
The flaming edges of his vision shifted blue as the weight of his grief struck him like a falling ice shard, embedding straight into his chest.
Emerie flinched as she raised her hand to shield her features when the sun broke through the trees. “It’s morning already?” she groaned out while squinting. “Just how long were you running before we stopped? No wonder Lindiwe didn’t find us easily.”
Lindiwe? Was that the Witch Owl’s true name? He hadn’t heard it before… or it was possible he’d been too distracted and wasn’t listening.
Emerie’s silvery voice broke him from the sudden trappings of his thoughts, bringing his mind back to the examination of his new companion.
The trees opened up, revealing the cliff edge of a ravine. Water sloshing, frothing, and rushing below bombarded his sensitive hearing. The sun shone down on them as she led them along it, likely to find a way to cross – even though he could have easily leapt it.
Ingram was assessing her shadow and the way it danced behind her when something glittered in his peripheral. Mild yellow lifted into his sight, a melding of joy and curiosity as he brought his gaze up.
Unable to help himself, tantalised by what he saw, he reached out and grabbed it. Emerie hissed and jerked back when he’d grabbed a fistful of her hair, his orbs brightening at the mesmerising lure of it.
His head twisted one way and then the other to better see past his beak, as he watched her hair glitter with an array of wild, autumn colours. Yellow like the sun, gold like the earth, orange like a sunset, and red like fire.
I’ve never seen such colouring on a creature. At least… not while they were alive, in the sun, and within reaching distance for him to play with.
“Ow!” she cried when he brought the long, wavy, but tangled strands closer to his skull so he could look in close detail. She twisted, looping it around his fist, to face him. She grabbed the length of it at the base of her head and tried to yank it away. “Why’d you pull my hair?”
“It looked pretty in the sun,” he answered, not seeing the problem. “I wanted a closer look.”
“That really hurt,” she rasped, tugging again.
Oh. He loosened his fist and allowed her to untangle the clump from his claws. “I did not mean to hurt you.”
Yet, a second later, he cupped her face when he noted the sun reflecting in her eyes and making them shine like crystal. The orange lashes framing them glittered just like her hair, and he couldn’t help being mesmerised by them both.
Currently, she was glowing. So bright and full of life.
He’d never seen anything as wonderful.
However, her eyes shut as she pulled back, cupping her cheek. The moment he spotted the bead of blood welling on the scarring over her cheek, he halted his breathing so he couldn’t smell it.