The ruby, red glow emmited by the skyline informed me that night would soon cast it's sinister and unrellentless cloak over the dense forestry. It would almost be time to find an uninhabited clearing and set up camp for the night. There was never any good that could come from wandering the woods after nightfall.
The general silence that existed between us lasted for what seemed like an age. I was intrigued to be honest about Seb's reasoning behind following me. It wasn't often that I ventured this deep into the woods let alone with Sebastian. He usually preferred to frequent the edge of the forest where we had set up a safehouse. It had sort of gained the affectionate nickname 'Junks' The establishment was a somewhat permanent settlement for us. An accommodation for us to return to in times of tribulation or tumult.
'Junks' was little more than intertwined twigs and branches that were stood up with great, consolidated trunks. A thick layer of daub coated the wattle to keep out any unwanted drafts. A few salvaged and battered crates made superb makeshift chairs and a long maggot-free plank of plywood was used as a sort of table. We often just spent days at the safehouse whiling away the hours, doing whatever pleased us. A single pack of stained playing cards lay, gathering dust on the plywood plank, aching to be opened and used once more.
I had never been much of an artist in my earlier years. Granted, I'd smithed a few blades, nothing large-scale. Just a few daggers and the odd iron sword. I had crafted my current weapon a while back, when we had a proper roof over our heads. 'Shadowstrike' is what I dubbed it. It was by a distance the finest dagger I had ever designed. It was made from a chunk of cool, ebony ore. The handle of the blade was designed to fit my grip with finger grooves that felt comfortable. The blade itself was a work of art. The upswept was a sharpened concave design. I regularly used the ragged serratations of the poniard to carve skin from the carcasses of prey I had slain. The misty black knife was pierced with a scarlett streak of cinnabar carved into the spine of the blade. This streak of red was often the last sight the forests animals ever saw as shadowstrike slashed across their torso's.
I hadn't crafted a single blade since shadowstrike, I had now taken more to the fine-line of artwork. A few figures of men and beasts littered the floor, lying abandoned and seeking asylum among the crusty leaves.
Art was more of a pastime than an occupation, but perhaps I could take it up as a career in the future. But for that to happen we'd have to pick ourselves up off our feet and earn some money first. That was one of the reasons I had made this trip. If I could slay a fine elk, the reward would be tenfold. The townspeople of Barrenborough would pay handsomely for a clean kill.
I guess Sebastian had also understood my intentions. He was often to be found out at the back of Junks, practicing his archery on a target I had set up for him. His longbow was perhaps his most precious possession. Unlike most of our weapons, it was Sebastian who constructed this one. It had a somewhat sentimental value to him. At first his shots were perpetually gliding over the target, sailing deep into the forest. But I have to admit, the kid's had determination. He stuck at it and before long he was an expert hitting dead centre almost every time. It pains me to say at times but I was proud of him. He was a good lad, if not a little timid at times. It was that very bow that I had taken from him that was bouncing across my back as we trundled deeper into the forest with the emergence of the first stars. Their sequin-silver colour was sparkling and shimmering like a higher power had scattered moon dust across the amethyst skyline.
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(On a side note, Amidst The Bramble Bush won't be updated until June-July due to upcoming exams. I appreciate your patience and I'll get back to writing at my earliest convenience. Thanks again. :-D
