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“She’s too tall for you,” snapped Axe.
Hunter shoved Axe in the arm. “No, she’s not. I like a woman with long legs.”
I wasn’t exactly tall. About five foot, four inches. But to a dwarf, I must have seemed like a giant. I laughed into my hand. These guys were certainly characters.
“Not my type,” said Axe. “Not enough facial hair.”
Spit flew out my mouth as I burst out laughing. Mama Jo didn’t have any facial hair. I hoped that none of the female dwarves did.Sea God,it felt good to laugh. I hadn’t had much to smile about for a long time. I guessed now it was time to celebrate. Being outside in nature, in the company of people, I felt so much more positive, more alive, and hopeful for a change. More like the old Snow…
Axe glared over his shoulder at me.
I paid him no heed. Whether he liked it or not, he was amusing.
We cleared the rocky terrain in no time, moving through the forest, where little saplings spread up in between the larger trees, competing for the light and moisture.
A cacophony of sounds surrounded us—birds chirping and scrounging among the leaves for worms, insects clicking, hopping from leaf to leaf, and branches creaking, as if the trees communicated to each other. It was so peaceful. A thrill chased through me at my newfound freedom to wander in the nature I held so dear.
“It’s just down here,” Teeny announced, pointing a stubby finger at a river flowing at the bottom of the slope.
It was by no means as wide or the currents as fast as the one I had traveled on to escape the hounds and mercenaries. But there’d be plenty of fish ready for the catching.
In a few moments, we reached the banks, and the dwarves set up their fishing lines, long wooden sticks fashioned from a soft, flexible wood, probably pine. Now it was time to settle in and wait for a bite.
“I’m glad you came,” Teeny said, taking a seat beside me.
“Me, too,” Hunter said, posting up on the opposite side of me, sitting much too close for my comfort.
My heartrate went crazy. So did my lungs. But I counted on my fingers, forcing the sensations to ease.
Teeny distracted me with more pleasantries. “How do you like your fish, Snow?”
“Raw,” Hunter growled, as if he was trying to be sexy.
Teeny bit back a smile. I did the same.
“Glazed with spices from Utaara,” Rake added, twisting his moustache. “I like it spicy.”
Was that another innuendo?
“Never tried it that way,” I said.
“Would you like to?” Rake asked, rocks clattering as he scooted to his feet to join the rest of us.
Hunter gave him a foul look full of heavy brows, tight lips, and seething eyes. A warning to back off. Hilarious. The dwarves were fighting over me.
“My father’s cook made the best fish pie, too,” I said, trying to break up the glares full of daggers flashing between the two competitors. “With lemon, garlic, and fresh thyme sprigs.”
At this news, Teeny licked his lips.
“I like a woman with garlic breath,” Axe announced from behind us. He still stood, testing his line with a finger, gently lifting the twine to search for any pressure on the other end.
I cupped my hands and laughed into them.
“You like everything repulsive in a woman,” Hunter muttered as he collected a pebble and tossed it near his friend.
Axe patted his belly, as if he imagined having shared a homecooked meal with his wife. “A woman who loves garlic loves her food. No skinny twigs for me. My woman has to love a hearty meal or three.”
Everyone laughed at this.
