The trunk we slept on was now a deep brown-purple and the ground was coated in brown, orange, and yellow leaves, much like fall on Earth. The glowing cocoons that had been there before now were cracked open and vacant, leaving behind transparent black shells. I watched as one snapped off its branch and floated down to the graveyard of foliage.
Graysen slept soundly across from me, in the same stiff position as I left him—back rigid against the trunk and arms crossed. His sloppy bangs mostly covered his eyes, but I could still see his closed lids and long lashes on his pale cheeks. His mouth twitched subtly at the corner as he mumbled indiscernibly. I waited to see if he would talk, but he promptly stilled with slightly parted lips. It occurred to me that since wehad met, he had always been awake when I was. Did he sleep much during the periods I was unconscious?
I slowly and carefully slid my side of the blanket off and moved it to cover him more fully. Sure, he was a creature of fire, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a good blanket. Right? Maybe I should have shared mine more last night.
The chilly morning air was energizing, like a cool splash of water to the face. Eager to begin my second chance at exploring, I carefully maneuvered a foot past Graysen, stepping into the stair-like rings of the vines. I grabbed hold of one of the vines hanging above me—now a much darker, velvety green—and carefully lowered myself into a sturdy foothold. A little bravery was needed to lunge the rest of the way, but once I caught myself against the bark, the hard part was over. My feet hit the ground with a satisfying, leafy crunch. I stretched my arms out, closed my eyes, and smiled. The earthy tones of the forest were quite serene.
The nagging voices that had been muffled by last night’s chaos whispered their way back into my consciousness. It was an aggravating soundtrack to an otherwise lovely experience. Here I was, the sole human stationed in the divine, and all I could hear was a woman’s voice repeating the same tired pleas. I was sick of them. They used to pull my heart strings straight out of my chest, as if I was viscerally intertwined with their meaning. But, I almost lost Graysen last night. A person I actuallyknew.Having felt that agony, I was less sentimentally inclined towards the unknown voice that haunted my dreams. In that moment, more than anything, I just wanted to cherish being alive to face another day with my brave, nurturing, and handsome companion.
Maybe as time passed, the voices would become little more than ruminations to ignore. Surely, that was possible.They sometimes faded into the background when I was having a conversation, entrenched in novelties and wonder, or too physically distressed to forfeit my attention to them. The biggest challenge was managing them during moments of stillness. Sleep was the worst. I was completely captive to their muses in my dreams and was consistently waking up disoriented and panicking.
I was grateful for the nippy air that gave me an immediate grounding sensation when I awoke today. Being exhausted had certainly made the dreams less intense, but it didn't eradicate them.
I opened our large travel bag and found a flat pan and a circular egg about the size of my head. Its shell was thicker and more leathery than I expected, likely the only reason it stayed intact throughout our travels. Eggs had been my primary source of protein since Graysen had never made me any meals with meat—maybe he was a vegetarian. Regardless, I was happy to eat a familiar food from Earth… at least it would feel familiar once it was no longer in its reptilian shell. My stomach was empty after the physical exertion of last evening, and my appetite was ravenous now that I was rested.
The fire had gone out completely and whatever embers had once hosted it were now buried under a layer of leaves. My eyes drifted to Graysen, wondering how much longer he would be asleep. I wasn’t sure I could start a fire myself, but I could at least get us a head start on prep before he woke up.
I walked around our camp, gathering large branches into my arms as I found them. I desperately wanted to have a new distraction, and this repetitive task wasnotcutting it. I puffed my cheeks in annoyance at the woman begging for my return inside my head. Guilt seeped into my gut as I reminded myself this person was probably very important to me andsuffering in my absence. I hated the constant sway between dread, annoyance, and remorse. A “Faeryn, I am your beloved [ _____ ]. You can find me at [ ____________ ]” would be nice. Something useful instead of this incessant, noisy torment.
As if sensing my wish for a more potent subject to focus on, a long, stubby-legged Redtail dragon scampered across my path. It stopped in its tracks, its neck dipping so its tiny head could point up at me cautiously. I could see its sides rising and collapsing with quick breaths.How cute.
“Hi, friend,” I greeted with a grin.
It stared at me with its beady eyes, its head ducked lower to the earth.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” I continued my scavenging while I talked. Direct eye contact was certainly a no-go in putting most small animals at ease. “Just when I thought there were so many species of people, there turns out to be more dragons than there are stars in the sky. I don’t suppose you spend much time staring at the sky.” This little guy was hardly capable of flight.
“Faeryn!” A voice boomed through the trees. The leaves didn’t shake from the wave of volume, but I would be lying if I said I hadn’t expected them too.
“Uh oh,” I grimaced. “I should go back.” I looked in the direction Graysen’s voice came from. He sounded panicked. After yesterday, waking up to me lost in the woods was probably upsetting. “Don’t want him to start collecting firewood when I’ve already gotten so much myself. It was nice to meet you.” I joked to the salamander-like dragon. The creature continued to stare at me curiously while I scurried back towards our little camp.
“Graysen, I’m right here,” I laughed as I stepped into the clearing where he had been shouting my name just a moment ago.
“Where have you been?” His shoulders relaxed away from his ears, followed by relief washing over his face.
“Firewood.” I wiggled my arms around to draw his attention to my bounty of branches, causing one to fall at my feet.
“If you wanted a fire you could have asked.” His voice was low and smooth. “I would’ve gathered while you slept more.” His fingers snapped against his palm in his classic stress response.
“Something tells me I wasn’t the one who needed the sleep,” I teased, leaning over to drop the rest of the wood in a loose pile. “Iwillneed you to actually start said fire.”
He softened at my obvious attempt to ease the tension.Success. “Thank you, Little Fae.” He crouched down and began organizing the wood into a more effective pile.
I blinked a couple of times in surprise. “Little Fae?” That was a new one. Pet names weren’t out of his usual vocabulary, but this one lacked the generalizable chivalry that could be applied to any familiar woman. I couldn’t imagine him calling Mykie “Little Fae”. My stomach fluttered.
He cleared his throat, as if he hadn’t meant to say it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assign you a nickname.”
“No, it’s okay,” I blushed. “Fae is a funny choice. On Earth, we associate them with tricksters. Like, you aren’t supposed to give them your name or something.”
“What happens if you give them your name?” he asked, his head turning from me for a moment to contribute flames to my harvest.
“I think it gives them power over you? I can’t really remember.”
“Is you having power over me a bad thing?” His head tilted up to face me, stone eyes locking with mine. Theylooked striking against the warm tones of the forest framing his background.
“I suppose Fae sounds better than Ryn.” My cheeks blushed as I attempted to shrug nonchalantly. My stomach churned with something not entirely unpleasant.
“My name is yours to have. There are worse things than being owned by a seraphic female,” he chuckled with a low and gravelly voice, smoke beginning to perfume the air.
