Walk in the Woods

Sorrel was determined to remain on guard around this strange man, but it was hard not to soften at least a little at the way he sighed. She watched his hand through his hair, which looked oil-dark and delightfully fluffy. Though perhaps not something you would want to run your hand through. While not gifted with numbers, Sorrel could take the sum of his clothes, his demeanour, and his hair (just this side of effortlessly rakish), and come up with an answer. And she suspected she could imagine just what kind of people were his, given the strange look in his dark eyes - the way he stared at the foliage. His offer wasn’t exactly one that inspired confidence, but Sorrel didn’t have much to be confident of in this situation. He also seemed harmless, so long as he wasn’t provoked and...well. It wasn’t like she had any better offers right now. ”Thank you,” she said, masking amusement, and moved into step beside him. Maybe lagged a step and a half behind, to assess the tilt and yaw of his swagger. You could tell a lot about a man by his swagger. In this case, she could tell he was only half bullshitting. Half correct is better than nothing, she thought, and curled her fingers in the edges of her cloak. Wrapped it further around herself as a shield against the night air - and anymore eyes eyeing up her herb pouch which, from what she could tell, was the only thing of value that had followed her to this world. “So,” she began, letting her relief turn to playfulness, “when I’m asked who saved me from a long, cold night in the forest, whose name shall I offer?” Sorrel Carried away by the truculence of my world, I got lost in the search for enlightenment, The blue rain covered my roots, And I forget where I came from.