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I'm an animal lover and hate being the reason some get injured. But I can’t seem to help it.
“Are there dangerous animals in Sicily?" I ask, rummaging through my bag to find my phone. "It's best to be prepared. I don’t want to end up in hospital again.”
This bag is like the Bermuda Triangle—I can never find anything in it. Rhia beats me to it, pulling out her phone, and immediately beginning to type.
“No hospital trips this time,” she says. “We’re on vacation. Let’s not spoil it.”
She scans the pages. “Okay, according to this website, wild boars make the top of the list, but they avoid people.”
“Good to know. What else?”
Rhia reads on, and her brows furrow. That can’t be good.
“What is it?” I ask.
“There’s one venomous snake on the island, the European asp viper. It’s responsible for ninety percent of snake bites and is the only mortal snake in Italy.”
“Crap. Google where the nearest hospital is after all,” I say, only half-joking.
“No. You’re going to think positive… And check any surface before you park yourderriere.”
I salute her. “Yes, ma’am.”
Rhia keeps reading, her eyes going wide. God, I love her expressive face. I always know exactly what’s going on.
“Have a guess what the national animal of Sicily is?” she asks.
I’m surprised it’s taken her that long to find out. It’s one of the many quirky things she’s interested in.
I puff air into my cheeks and look at the sky for inspiration. “Some type of bird?”
“Nope. A lion rules Sicily.”
“Fascinating,” I reply drily.
“I actually had a dream last night where you were courted by a lion,” she says, tapping her lip with her index finger.
I laugh. “The bizarre things you dream about… What happened?”
“Nothing, really. It was just hanging around you, looking cuddly. I didn’t sense any danger… yet I knew it was a dangerous animal. Weird, huh? Then I woke up.”
“Talking about lions. Look, there’s one.” Ignoring Rhia’s strange dream, I point to a large fluffy cloud in the sky.
Rhia squints as she studies it. The breeze blows her red locks into her face. They’re such a stark contrast to my own blonde hair. Yet they complement each other—like dark ripe strawberries and custard… an excellent combination.
“It’s sleeping,” Rhia remarks as she tucks her wayward locks behind her ears.
“That’s probably why the little girl floating towards him isn’t scared.” I show her another cloud to the left of the lion.
“Awww, she’s turning into a princess. See the little crown on top of her head?” Rhia asks, getting into the spirit of the game. “And over there is a castle. So she’s definitely a princess.”
“Where?”
“The cloud to the right of the lion,” Rhia says, pointing.
“Wow, it even has a watchtower.”
“I don’t see that,” Rhia mumbles, scrunching up her face as she tries to make out the shape. “I think your imagination is getting the better of you.”
