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* * *
He had been alone a long time in the wilds, but this is what it would take, he reminded himself. This and much more.
Crouched by the side of the creek where the sun broke through the forest canopy above, the almost middle aged man looked into the water, carefully wielding a knife to trim his beard. It grew so fast, and though he didn’t see anyone most of the time, it did good for his sanity to keep it groomed and neat. Made him feel more like a man, rather than an animal.
A hunted animal, he reflexively thought.
He’d abandoned his post in the army months ago, and the lords always punished soldiers who betrayed their oaths to make examples of them to all.
A tall man, Legault was fit and strong. A life in the military had taught him much and done even more for him; provided the thick overcoat that made his hiding out in the woods possible for one. Blonde hair grew down to his chin, when it wasn’t tied back, and he kept his beard neatly trimmed, or as best he could with what he had--a hunting knife, and the reflection of the water. He had dark green eyes, and an attractive face that had always made his periods of leave pleasant without the need for expensive brothels, but it did him little good all alone in the woods.
Shaving and keeping his hair trim reminded him of those times. Most importantly, it took his mind off the isolation.
* * *
Not far from his stream lay a farm, equal in its isolation. It was a fairly humble affair, a small house with a large plot of land and a well maintained barn. Certainly they weren’t rich farmers, whoever they were, but it was enough to feed a small family with extras to spare for sale.
The small, young woman left it early that morning, walking down towards the local creek, a fishing pole slung over her shoulder. Her curly red hair was tied back in a ribbon, the ponytail draped long over her shoulders and past the bust of her simple, white top. A light blue skirt ruffled with each step, making her motions slow and awkward, but she followed the rules that were set for her.
Had he been a normal man, it’s likely he’d have been caught by surprise by the pretty young woman and her innocent venture, but his reflexes were always on alert for someone intruding upon his solitude. Hearing her approach, he quickly slid his knife into its sleeve and backed away, his jacket in hand. Placing the large grey overcoat on, he dared to peek out, watching her carefully.
She wasn’t very old; just into adulthood, she retained much of her innocence. Amy wasn't careful as she walked through the woods, not bothering to look around very much, but a smile spread across her face at the sight of the stream. There was a large rock not too far from it that she quickly moved to, gathering up her skirt beneath her before settling down.
Casting her line, she looked up at the forest top, towards the crisp blue beyond, and let out a pleasured sigh.
To the isolated man she may as well have been a goddess descended from the heavens above, surrounded by the cascading light against the creek. He could not help but stare a while from his position behind a tree, wetting his lips as if he were a dehydrated man in a desert looking upon an oasis.
He warred within his own mind a while, debating whether he should sneak off, or dare to approach her. It was foolish, he scolded himself internally, to even think of talking to her, but she stirred the man inside him as well as the hunted beast.
Pressing his back to the tree’s trunk, he shut his eyes and steeled himself. There was a final moment’s debate, even as he slid a hand back over his blonde hair as if heading out onto a date. It wasn’t until his heavy, military style boots tread upon the stones towards the stream that he gave himself away.
She gasped at the sound of another human approaching her, crying out and dropping her fishing pole. Still, after the moment’s startle had past, she leaned in. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him, suddenly intrigued by the foreign man, her mouth falling open to reveal her white teeth.
Coming to a stop as if he were just as surprised by her as she was by him, his face lit up with one of his big, cheerful smiles that the bar wenches so loved. He tucked his hands into his pockets, “I am sorry, lil’ lady,” he began, “I did not realize this here creek was claimed already.” He had the thick accent of a country boy gone metropolitan, or so his mother told him last she saw him.
She shifted away from him, fear and curiosity plain in her behaviour, as though she weren’t entirely sure if she should run but felt that it’d be the wisest option. Still, she remained on the rock, gaping up at him.
“I... I...” she stammered, her voice so much lighter than his, “Why are you here?”
Approaching her at a slow, casual pace, he looked disarming, despite his height, build and clothes. The high collar of his old uniform, bereft of insignia, was now undone low enough to show a bit of chest hair. “Why?” he responded, tilting his head as if she asked a confusing question.
Resting a boot up on a stone, he leaned forward, three or so meters from her, putting his elbow on his thigh. “Same reason you’re here, I’d reckon. Bit of fishin’. Enjoy the sun. An’ relaxin’,” he added with a grin.
She screwed up her face and her blue eyes moved over him as her heart beat loudly in her chest. She was almost certain he could hear it, and her breathing neared hyperventilation. She obviously wasn’t feeling ver
y relaxed. She stood from her rock, taking a step back away from him, “I can’t talk to you,” she explained, her thin body on full display then. The white blouse was frilled at the top and the arms, of a modest cut, and her skirt hung near to the forest floor.
Even with a big frown, his face retained that handsome, masculine allure. Rising up from his position, she could feel the disappointment dripping from him. “I understand, lil’ lady,” he responded. The sullen look didn’t last long though, for his face softened, “Can’t be talkin’ ta every woodland elf that comes a’ wanderin’ out a d’em trees, can ya? Some are the tricksy sort,” a crook of his lips betrayed the joke.
Her nose crinkled and her pale brows furrowed as she took another step back, nearly tripping over her discarded fishing pole. She quickly regained her balance, but her face was red by the time she looked to him again, “I can’t be seen with you,” she pleaded. “I can’t go home until I...” she trailed off, flustered.
Raising his own sun-kissed brow, he looked to her a bit confused. “Seen?” He looked around, as if confused as to the whereabouts of some secret viewer. “What? By the squirrels n’ such?” Giving her a quizzical look he remarked humorously, “Y’right. Those buggers can be tricky. Might blackmail us both!”
She didn’t understand his sense of humour, or she didn’t find it to be funny at the very least. She gulped for air and grabbed at her fishing pole, her knuckles grazing the earth, “My family!” she begged him to understand.
Furrowing his own brows he looked to her, “Yer family?” Blinking a while he dropped the act and just gave a pleasant smile, “Hey look, lil’ lady. I don’t mean no offence. There’s plenty a creek here for you an’ I ta share. An’ I don’t see no family here abouts,” he gestured around. “But, if’n they come by, I can beat it on out and leave the place to you and your folks. Swear,” he promised with a toothy smile.
