Wayfarer (Wanderlust 2)

Chapter Twelve

The mild night continued into a mild morning. There was fog in the air when they packed up their camp to get back on the road, which slowly dissipated as the sun rose. Instead of the muffled silence of the thick snow, the forest was noisy with drips of melting snow that almost sounded like rain, and heavier wet thuds when larger clumps fell.

Jale explained to them that this was common. The first snowfall sometimes hit heavily for days, but tended not to last. It was still autumn, she pointed out, and real winter wouldn't start for another few weeks. They had just experienced what she called 'Tier's Greeting', the winter goddess reminding her people that she was on the way.

The next few days were just as mild, and in the sun along the road it got so warm that they actually shed their thick winter jackets. Tanden took to wearing his nautical jacket again, while Jale wore a woolly shawl over her shoulders. One afternoon got so warm that Soren actually pushed up his sleeves, much to Tanden's delight and Jale's intrigue, which lead to a series of questions about his tattoos and their cultural significance. Jale was familiar with Morcean temporary tattoos, which were used for decoration in a similar way jewellery was used. She didn't understand the permanent black and blue swirls that covered Soren's arms.

"They started as a way to show our dedication to the ocean, and the Old God of the Sea," Soren explained. For once, he was sitting up front with Jale while Tanden lounged in the back. "That dedication is unwavering, so they're permanent. Then people started getting symbols to represent their ships, or their loved ones."

"Do you have that?" Jale asked. She wasn't really driving, letting the kyloe pick their own pace along the road. She was instead inspecting Soren's arm, which she had pulled over her lap so she could get a better look. With this question she turned his wrist, looking for something other than the swirling waves.

"No," Soren chuckled. The only other person who had been so fascinated by his tattoos was Tanden, but that was different. Jale's curiosity was more childlike. "Captain does."

She dropped Soren's arm to look over her shoulder. "You have one?"

Tanden really was lounging in the back. He had pulled out a crate to use as a footrest, and had bundled up his winter jacket under his head like a cushion. "Yes. You haven't noticed?"

"I don't watch you change," Jale pointed out dryly. "Remember, I don't care for that," she gestured at his whole body with a vague wave. "So where is it?"

"On my back."

"But you're not—" She paused, then remembered, "—Crelan."

"No," Tanden agreed. "It is a tad unusual, but not forbidden by any means. Maybe I'll show you next time we make camp," he added with a grin.

Jale rolled her eyes, and turned her attention back to Soren's arm. Soren leaned a little closer to her to whisper, "He's... very attracted to tattoos. Sometimes I think I could paint this design on a rock and he'd fall in love with it."

Jale laughed. Soren really enjoyed her laugh. She wasn't trying to be dainty or act shy, she laughed loudly, unembarrassed, and she did it more often as she got used to them. At this point, most of their secrets had been revealed, they were all pretty comfortable with each other. No topic of conversation was too far, no joking insult was taken seriously. When they were alone in the woods, Soren felt completely at ease. Jale's laugher was proof that she felt the same way.

"What did he tell you?" Tanden interrupted. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," Jale replied. She nudged Soren's arm, indicating that he could move it again, and took up the reins. "We should stop soon."