She wouldn’t have been so worried about his state of rest if he wasn’t slowing down little by little. The big guy, for some reason, didn’t want to stop. Even now, when she could tell his steps were languid, and a little wobbly.
After their long cuddle the previous day, one that had been just as therapeutic for her as it seemed to be for him, she’d decided she would make him rest once she’d done so herself. One of them needed to keep watch. Since he’d been able to hold out a little longer, she’d made him wait so she could be fully alert.
When he was walking through a decently sized gap in the trees, she patted his neck. “Hey, can you let me down?”
Without saying a word, he lowered himself so she could safely slip off.
“We should stop here and let you rest for a few hours,” she told him, hoping her firm tone would make it definitive.
“I do not wish to stop,” he argued.
Why did I have a feeling he’d say something like that? It was like he wanted to walk himself to death.
Rolling her eyes, she made her way over to a log that had conveniently fallen most of the way through the clearing. She sat down with her legs crossed, leaned her back against it, and folded her arms.
“You will sleep, Ingram. I’m not getting up until you do.”
With an annoyed huff, he stomped over to her. Just as he reached out to pick her up himself, likely so he could toss her over his shoulder, she lightly backhanded his hand away. She sternly pointed at him with her index finger.
His orbs flashed white momentarily as he darted his arm back. Then he gave her a light growl with red flaring.
“No growling or grabbing. Lay down, close your… eyes? And go, the fuck, to sleep.”
“Why must I? I am not tired,” he grumbled, turning his raven beak away.
“Do not lie to me, Duskwalker! I can see your arms shaking as we speak.” She pointed to her left to gesture to the clearing. “Lie down!”
With a snarl, he spun away and plopped down two metres away from her. Giving her his back, he curled into a ball on his side.
However, after a few moments, his tail tip tapped against the ground. She squinted her eyes into a glare at it.
“You better be sleeping, Ingram.”
A huff snorted out of him before he got up and crossed to the other side of the clearing. He was a little further away now, giving her his back once more. The second his tail started tapping, he was back on all fours. He spun in a circle and kneaded the ground with his hands, like he was trying to make himself comfortable, then plopped down again.
This time, he faced her, and she had a funny feeling his purple orbs were focused on her. She stared back and raised one of her brows, so he knew she was watching him.
Minutes passed, and she thought he’d finally given in. It was odd to watch the glow in his orbs grow smaller, like that was a Duskwalker’s version of their eyelids becoming heavy.
Just before the glow disappeared completely, they flashed brightly like a spark of white fire, and he was on his damn feet again!
Why is he so restless? If she’d been walking for four days straight, she would have fallen asleep as soon as her head clonked on a pillow.
As he crossed the clearing once more, it was obvious now that he was sulking. He did lay down, much closer to her than before.
His orbs were quicker to grow smaller before they eventually disappeared. When his head tipped to the side to reveal the underside of his beak, she knew he’d passed out.
Fucking hell, finally.
Listening to her surroundings, she inspected the forest.
All was quiet, although that didn’t necessarily mean it was safe. I’ll likely hear a Demon coming. That she knew for certain. But if a snake or a predator comes along, they’ll be harder to spot.
Then again, she was with a Duskwalker. Hopefully just his presence kept everything dangerous from approaching.
Emerie had been on watch for many missions for the Demonslayer guild. They all knew rest was important to stay alert and strong, and she had no qualms about taking the latest shift – which was one most tended to hate.
Those few hours before the sun rose seemed to be the hardest for most. For her, it was her favourite time of day.
It was the coldest, but she often thought it was bewitching. A new day would rise like a ray of hope that could be witnessed at only this time. Dusk brought fear, but dawn chased away the shadows and everything that lurked within them.
Her gaze fell on the Duskwalker.
Well, it chases most things away.
She brought her knees up so she could lean her elbow on it and shove her cheek against the back of her knuckles. It’s scary that your kind can walk in the light. It means we’re never truly safe.
Then again… if all Duskwalkers were like Ingram, would humankind be safe from them if they just stopped being afraid? The skull face made them off-putting because it was a clear reminder of death, but if humans removed their prejudices, would they have been safe from them?
A small whine breaking from him had her drawing her face away from her knuckles. Yet it was his sudden twitching, all his muscles leaping and his tail twisting, that had her brows furrowing deeply.
“Ingram,” she softly called when he gave another whine, hoping not to disturb him fully, but to startle whatever nightmare gripped him.
She wasn’t dumb. She knew approaching him mid-dream could end up with her on the wrong side of his claws.
Just as she opened her mouth once more, intending to be a little louder, he sprung to his feet within the span of a breath. Orbs white, stance wide like he was ready to fight, and breaths sawing in and out of him, he stared into the forest – at least, she thought he did with the direction his skull was facing.
“Hey there,” she cooed to grab his attention. His skull darted to her as his body flinched back a step. “Bad dreams, huh?” Her question had been spoken casually, letting him know she understood why he’d woken and that it was okay to be afraid.
His tone was gravelly, his words spoken with a sense of urgency. “There, I have rested.”
“A few minutes is not rest, Ingram.” However, she was starting to realise the root of the problem. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, wondering how she could help him. “I used to have a lot of nightmares too. Bad ones, where I’d wake up in a layer of sweat, barely able to breathe.”
Ingram did not respond, and his orbs bore into her.
Emerie sighed, rubbing at her cheek. “I don’t know how to help you. I’ll be honest with you, Ingram… I have my own internal scars that haven’t truly healed, and I doubt what worked for me will work for you. I don’t know if sharing my own stories will help you or burden you, but I want you to know that I do care ab–”
“I do not like being alone,” he quietly stated, cutting her anxious rambling short.
Her head jerked, and a frown creased her forehead. “But you’re not alone. I’m here with you.”
His orbs morphed into blue. “But I… feel alone.”
“I don’t know how to fix that for you,” she answered honestly, turning her gaze downward.
Emerie had experienced her fair share of loneliness while in a crowded room. It was a terrible emotion to wallow in, and an even harder one to crawl her way out of.
She’d been trying for years, yet it was always present. It clung like a parasite, a leech, unwilling to let go until it was finished feasting.