Saelin walked under the morning sun a few hours before noon. The sun was above her head, and fallen leaves were scattered all over the ground in so vast a number that they blotted it out. She was as pretty as always in her step. The white gown she wore swayed with each one she took. Its beauty matched with her hair that seemed to get whiter with each passing day, giving her a conspicuous look. Sethlzaar had no doubt it had been given to her by one of the women from the tribe as he watched her from the fallen tree he sat upon.
She stopped when she got to him. And saying nothing, she squatted s
Saelin walked under the morning sun a few hours before noon. The sun was above her head, and fallen leaves were scattered all over the ground in so vast a number that they blotted it out. She was as pretty as always in her step. The white gown she wore swayed with each one she took. Its beauty matched with her hair that seemed to get whiter with each passing day, giving her a conspicuous look. Sethlzaar had no doubt it had been given to her by one of the women from the tribe as he watched her from the fallen tree he sat upon.She stopped when she got to him. And saying nothing, she squatted s
Sethlzaar looked up from his veils, shaken from his surprise.She was old. Very old. Her weathered skin, leathery from age, drooped on both sides of her face where her cheeks hid beneath it all. It fell so low that it dangled with each facial movement. And she walked with a cane. Her hand trembled as she moved the cane, and when she walked towards his bed he was reminded of Cynth. He wondered if she was dying, too.
When night came a few of the adults had a fire burning as they did every night. It was a fire that would burn deep into the night, adding its crackling symphony to the forest's echoes, a new member of its orchestra surrounded by the adults who would talk and drink and make merry if they saw fit. But though it burned so late and would last the whole night if allowed, the gatherings often came to an end before the darkest of the night. Each adult leaving at spaced intervals. Those new to the responsibilities of being husbands or wives always retired first, having drunk very little, retiring early either in a bid not to annoy their new spouses or a desire for the benefits of new marriages.
Sethlzaar was halfway inside his tent when Saelin pushed passed him. Surprised, he studied her, choosing to remain halfway into the tent as she turned to face him. She watched him with wary eyes, worrying her lower lip between her teeth in nervousness.Sethlzaar's brows furrowed in curiosity. "Are you drunk?"
Sethlzaar stroked Saelin's hair where it fell from her head rested on his chest, wondering what she was still doing in bed with him four hours past the crack of dawn. On previous days she would have made her exit three hours earlier only after ensuring his breakfast was ready and he wanted for nothing."Where do you go every morning?" he asked her, giving life to the thoughts that had always danced in his mind.Saelin shrugged.
It was high noon when they began their return to the tribe. Despite the hunt being ended, the men never broke formation. Always alert with each step, unlike their arrival, they walked with a caution, weapons drawn and arrows notched. It was an almost trained disposition, and Sethlzaar might have been impressed if more troubling things did not plague his mind.It bore it too, he thought, eyes fixed on the carcass of the animal they'd hunted. He had taken aim, and in those moments he had caught sight of the darkness of wisps clinging to its features; del
Sethlzaar crossed the expanse of the tribe, by-passing the tents as he moved. Wraith's attention twitched at his movement while a boy watched from a tent far removed from the wolf with a focused intensity. The child was no more than his tenth summer, and though he thought himself hidden, Wraith was just as aware of his presence as it was of Sethlzaar's. He passed Cenam where he sat tending to his veils without a word of acknowledgement even when his brother looked up at him. Eventually they would have the talk that was long overdue, and unlike the one he'd had with Narvi, he knew it would be void of platitudes.
Sethlzaar crossed the expanse of the tribe, by-passing the tents as he moved. Wraith's attention twitched at his movement while a boy watched from a tent far removed from the wolf with a focused intensity. The child was no more than his tenth summer, and though he thought himself hidden, Wraith was just as aware of his presence as it was of Sethlzaar's. He passed Cenam where he sat tending to his veils without a word of acknowledgement even when his brother looked up at him. Eventually they would have the talk that was long overdue, and unlike the one he'd had with Narvi, he knew it would be void of platitudes.