07-30-2009, 08:11 PM
The entirety of my body complained as I straightened my spine along the tree’s fleshy bark, peeling my mouth open once more in want to breath. The air did smell denser; condensation licked across my eyes and along my lips so that these exposed bits of musty flesh became thick with a foul scented secretion. My head fell back against the tree with a soft thud, eyes closing in an effort to recognize the task ahead of me. Without looking at the female wolf, my deep voice growled from the cage of my chest, slowly falling against the waves of distant thunder.
“How far is it?”
The spell-like link of calm to the place had been disturbed several miles off as rain began to blot the trees’ scalps with dark shades of ink. Birds called in a disjointed manner, scattering to dryer lands while their chicks and prey hide themselves as best they could. The rain would touch us in ten minutes, if not sooner. Had there not been a lady with me I’d have stuck out the storm curled under a tree, but the idea of her suffering for my weariness was a peccadillo I could not commit. For a moment longer I paused braced against my body’s sling, my chest expanding rhythmically in steady breathing. I chanced a look at the tanned woman, her engaging stare rendering mine locked to hers and before I’d taken my eyes from her once more I paused, drawing in breath so that I might speak once more.
“I’m Estafilade, by the way. Est, if you have trouble pronouncing it.”
At these words the subtle trill of a foreign accent flowed about the pronunciation of my words—French, if one was to trace my lineage back to Quebec. I continued to drink in the female’s glowing image before giving her another soft smile and turning my head back to the darkening sky. I considered my options for only another moment before pushing off the breast of the tree with both hands and clutching at a nearby branch for stability. With that movement I nearly fell, and both wobbly legs had to web out beneath my weight to keep me upright. Although my mouth now hung open, tongue falling unceremoniously to one side, I glanced at my unknown companion and shifted my ears forward, signaling my willingness to follow her.
“How far is it?”
The spell-like link of calm to the place had been disturbed several miles off as rain began to blot the trees’ scalps with dark shades of ink. Birds called in a disjointed manner, scattering to dryer lands while their chicks and prey hide themselves as best they could. The rain would touch us in ten minutes, if not sooner. Had there not been a lady with me I’d have stuck out the storm curled under a tree, but the idea of her suffering for my weariness was a peccadillo I could not commit. For a moment longer I paused braced against my body’s sling, my chest expanding rhythmically in steady breathing. I chanced a look at the tanned woman, her engaging stare rendering mine locked to hers and before I’d taken my eyes from her once more I paused, drawing in breath so that I might speak once more.
“I’m Estafilade, by the way. Est, if you have trouble pronouncing it.”
At these words the subtle trill of a foreign accent flowed about the pronunciation of my words—French, if one was to trace my lineage back to Quebec. I continued to drink in the female’s glowing image before giving her another soft smile and turning my head back to the darkening sky. I considered my options for only another moment before pushing off the breast of the tree with both hands and clutching at a nearby branch for stability. With that movement I nearly fell, and both wobbly legs had to web out beneath my weight to keep me upright. Although my mouth now hung open, tongue falling unceremoniously to one side, I glanced at my unknown companion and shifted my ears forward, signaling my willingness to follow her.