Damn, I’ll have to play this real careful-like.
From the side, he couldn’t see any Pathian symbols on her clothing, it was all plain leather and fur. She wore a fuzzy cap and had a set of goggles pushed onto her forehead as she squinted down at the ground. She reached inside her coat and pulled out a small notebook and a writing implement. With barely a glance to find a page, shestudiedthe ground as she began to scrawl in the notebook, her eyes flicking about the forest floor. Berne craned his neck to peer at the ground, whatwasshe looking at?
After a moment, she started humming to herself.
What a silly wee woman.
Was she seriously writing about theground?Berne suppressed a chuffing laugh as she began to bounce in her squat, swaying her rump from side to side as she wrote. If he hadn’t been shifted, he knew he’d be chuckling. Thirty seconds into her little dance, she began to talk.
“Why yes, I would gladly come speak at your conference! No, not a bother at all! Well of course my research is very, very important, but I am, as you know, dedicated to spreading knowledge above all else!” She was speaking in the common tongue of the Compact, her voice light and airy, but false, as if she was putting on a voice. She was quiet for several minutes, scratching silently in her book, perhaps even sketching, judging by the movements of her arm.
Eventually, she scoffed and started speaking again, her voice rougher this time with scorn. “We’llseewhat mister Lord Lunologist has to say aboutthis!Just try to kick me out now, you old pigeon livered goat! Every biologist in the Compact will have your balls if you expel me now!“ The womancackledandswitched to a quieter tone of voice, one that felt less forced.4Her true voice was smooth and deep and had a melody and cadence to it which washed over him with a feeling of calm and focus. “Bicodulus lagomorph with elongated tail… post axial polydactyly observed on both fore and hind limbs.”
Berne shook his head; the woman was incorporating some other language now, and he didn’t have even a whisper of an idea what she was on about. She continued in that quiet voice, one he felt would be perfect for reading aloud next to a fire, mumbling at times. When she was quiet for a few moments, Berne recalled he was meant to be on patrol. He swung his head from side to side, sniffing for scents on the wind to see if she was truly alone. There wasn’t a whiff of any other people for as far as he could smell.
I s’pose I should introduce myself,he thought, but he was socuriousabout what she was doing. Eventually, she straightened, stretching with her hands on the small of her back before she giggled and did another wiggling dance.
What on Timonde?
She seemed inordinately pleased with whatever it was she’d found. She didn’t seem a bit concerned with being alone. In fact, she seemed downright exuberant as she began walking away from him.
Berne followed, keeping her at the very edge of his sight, as she went to a sledge she’d left beyond an outcropping. He watched her hook several straps to herself so she could pull the sledge. Judging by the gear piled on it, she was much stronger than he would have assumed. It should have scraped along the forest floor, but when he looked closer, he could see there were wee wheels fashioned along the underside making it glide. It seemed to be working a treat; he was impressed.
If she was lost, she wasn’t completely barmy. They always told weans to follow the river, that they’d be sure to come across people eventually. Though, she was walking upriver, straight toward Sanctuary, which could be a problem. Any sort of civilization she would want to find would be downriver. After about an hour of walking, the woman began to speak again, though this time she seemed to be speaking to a squirrel.
“Oh yes, Mr. Squirrel, Idothink it is time I thought about finding a camp for the night. Iknowthe sky is darkening, but I don’t like how dense these trees are here. How am I to set up my tent? We’ll continue on a bit more, see if there isn’t a better spot up ahead.“ When she found a clearing, she chatted again. “Oh yes, this will do nicely. I can put my tent just here, and the fire can go in this little hollow.” By the time she got her fire blazing and pitched her tent, the sun was about to disappear below the horizon. Just then, the woman stood up, waved wildly, and called out, “Good night Mr. Sun, we will see you in the morning! Please be on time, mind, we have a long way to go—I think.”
She was ridiculous.
And adorable.
And she smelled entirely delicious.
And something about her tickled his memory.
And you, yeh cabbage-head, are watching her to assess her threat level, not take her to the harvest fair.
He shook his head. What in the Lady’s name was he doing, he’d found a person that he’d been drawn to. Had determined that he would findher.Yet here he was, his tongue hanging from his mouth like an idiot, and he could feel a purr threatening in his chest. He needed to either shift and rescue this woman or decide she was a threat and be rid of her, she jeopardized his future in too many ways to count.
Problem was, she didn’t seem like she needed rescuing and she didn’tfeellike a threat.
She’d set up her camp with practiced movements and didn’t seem distressed at all, though from where he was positioned, he mostly saw the back of her. As the fire got going, she peeled off her outer layers, revealing a thick woolen sweater and canvas pants. From her pack, she pulled a long skirt and wrapped it around herself, settling her hands on her hips and nodding. Her large furry cap and eyewear went next, a long dark braid falling over her shoulder. A few strands of her hair had escaped and were plastered to the side of her face with sweat. Her face and neck were a warm golden tan, though now he’d crept closer, he could see flashes of slightly lighter skin at her cuffs. He could tell that while she’d clearly tried to prepare for the trip, her furs were limp and sodden in several places, evidence they weren’t properly waterproofed. It was a relatively warm day, so it didn’t seem to bother her, but she would be in trouble quickly if she continued north. Otherwise, she seemed quite capable. Not at all what he would expect of a woman lost and alone.
Night descended fully, and since the fire’s light would blind her sight of the forest, Berne crept closer. Perhaps he could get a look into her wee book and determine if she had nefarious intent. He moved closer and saw she had wide, dark eyes which made her look suspiciously innocent, a gaze that looked shockingly familiar, that had haunted him in dreams for a week. It washer, the woman from the tavern, but where was the rest of her party? There was no way she was out here without a group, right?
What are yeh doing out here, lass? Should be tucked up snug somewhere, not out here alone.
The woman fetched a collapsible stool from her sledge and began to cook her supper, pulling dried ingredients from her pack and adding fresh herbs he imagined she’d picked from the local flora. It wasn’t long before delicious aromas were wafting toward him on the breeze, overpowering her scent.
The smell made his stomach growl with hunger and he frowned down at it. Heneededto be quiet or she would hear him; if she found out about him before he’d determined what to do with her he…well he wasn’t sure what would happen, but he didn’t want to find out.
A second after his stomach growled, the woman froze, her eyes darting to the surrounding forest. She couldn’t see him, of course, but he heard her whimper.
Well fuck Berne, now you’ve stepped in it.
He backed away as slowly as he could, but he froze as he stepped on a branch, wincing at the loud snap.5He could see her chest heaving even from a distance and smell the anxiety in her scent.
Swiftly turning around, he fled as quickly as he could while maintaining a level of stealth. He didn’t want her to be afraid, just needed to figure out her intentions. Once he could barely detect her scent, he paused, his chest heaved and his heart pounded in the dark.
