Paying My Respects

It occurs to me as I resign… nay, settle myself in his company, that eve’s breath draws ever nearer: I won’t beat the darkness now, I sigh inwardly. Mother always worries for my safety and this will upset her. So too do I realise that Jigano and Isuma will be venturing between graves in the same, to reach their destination. It reminds me of the warning I’d issued before he’d spoken from his cover and things had turned awry. Had he been listening? It all leads me further to wonder whether the Cat Sith will be prowling Ludo’s Wood tonight. Hopefully not… At the same time, my eyes are tracing the silvered silhouette of his pale, elegant figure as it folds down upon the soil a polite distance from myself. I conclude, amid my pensive silence, that he looks nothing like the woman which had been lost in The Wildwood on the other occasion, weeks ago; further still, I decide that he seems to be considerably more interesting given his bond with Caido’s wildlife. And he is principled. I think. “…Delah and Arduinna…” The unexpected mention of my kin by their names jerks me from thought and the reflective glaze that had  been carelessly let to wash through my expression momentarily, disperses. Eyes divert to the sombre scarlet of nearby timber, though the arrival of the endearing child between us beckons them to return. My hand lifts in their stead and presents placidly for inspection. I hope she will accept. From some sub-conscious level in my mind, I am able to pluck the words that had been given by Jigano firstly, and I am wholly relieved that my ears, at least, have been paying attention. It is for the sake of the Fae and because I cannot lie, though, that I choose to answer the way I do: “those you speak of would not approve.” The tone accompanying is honest, almost grave, for the seriousness of this situation I am in, suddenly dawns. I almost apologise, but clean, white teeth descend swiftly to intervene; perhaps their click is heard beyond the startled press of my lips. Instead, with a weak smile, I am able to reveal: “you can know that I weave baskets.” A gesture I earnestly hoped might quench his thirst for such answers. My worry is masked by innocent optimism as I hope that Delah’s scouts are occupied elsewhere. My heart has begun again to pound in my chest. Betraying an oath was not on today’s bucket list, and while I don’t feel I have done this (exactly), guilt gnaws angrily at my self-confidence. My nerves tingle. Perhaps it is time to leave.