Not the kiss…not the way his mouth felt on mine, the way his hard, hot body feels wrapped around me while we sleep…
No.
No. I think about practical things.
The way he always checked the perimeter before sleep.
How he navigated the map and confusing paths in the forest.
The way he always noticed what I lacked before I noticed it myself.
My jaw tightens.
His absence hurts in a soft, pathetic manner.
I tear off a piece of rabbit once it is cooked enough not to bleed and nearly burn my fingers in the process.
The meat is tough, tasteless, and a little underdone near the bone. But I don’t care. I eat every bite I can salvage, licking grease from my thumb afterward with no dignity at all.
I’ll need all the strength I can get.
The food helps immediately. Warmth spreads slowly through my body. The haze surrounding my mind lifts.
I’m ready.
I stamp out the fire and listen for any running water. I need to refill my skin and wash my hands.
The mountain looms somewhere ahead, hidden beyond the trees. I feel…something. A pull. A direction towards it.
Today,I move slower.
After hours of walking, I come across a small river. The forest is thinner here. The ground grows rockier, the incline steeper. I wash my sticky hands and refill my skin before pushing forward.
A familiar scratch splits the air so suddenly and so loudly that every muscle in my body locks.
My head snaps up.
Another one follows, echoing across the mountainside.
My dragon.
My pulse leaps. I break into a run. The sound came from above and to the east. I weave through the trees, breath sawing in and out of my lungs, until I reach a clearing just large enough to give me a view of the canopy overhead.
Nothing.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, turning in a slow circle.
The scratch comes again, farther now.
I scan the trees and spot the tallest one at the edge of the slope. A pine thick enough to hold my weight, its branches stretching above the rest.
Good enough.
I unbuckle my belt as I run to it, looping the leather around the trunk to brace myself as I climb. Bark tears at my gloves. Resin sticks to my palms. Every muscle in my body screams.
The tree sways slightly the higher I go, and the wind grows sharper, colder. Still, I keep climbing until the branches thin enough that I can see over the surrounding forest.
There.
