Finding the Fallen

Chapter 4

Kala happily accepted the shirt as Merik handed it to her, a look of accomplishment twinkling in his eyes. She didn't like taking a handout, especially from people who needed it much more than she did. But this time, she knew it was necessary, handout or no. Where else would she find a new shirt? It's not like the woods of West Virginia were teeming with designer clothing outlets.

Nodding her thanks, she turned and made her way back up the stairs to the small room above the bar. As she discarded her tattered shirt and slipped on the freshly washed replacement (or so it appeared, at least), a glance in the dirty mirror hanging on the wall near the window revealed a glimpse of the necklace she wore around her neck. The hand-hewn silver pendant with the pentacle, a common Pagan symbol, engraved in the center glimmered in the beam of light cascading in through the window.

She smiled and grasped the pendant in her hand, remembering the day Scott had presented it to her. He had wanted more than just a friendship, but Kala had been reluctant, concerned her love for him would distract her from her duties as a Servant. She had accepted the gift though, telling him she would think about his request. That had been two days ago...and now he was gone. Sadness reflected in the mirror as she gazed at the pendant now.

That sadness was quickly replaced with a look of determination. Scott was gone...she couldn't bring him back. But she could make the people who took him from her pay...dearly. It was time to go...she had work to do.

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Merik was waiting beside the well when Kala came back downstairs after changing into the new shirt. She smiled and pointed out that the pattern wasn't exactly her taste, but the kindness was appreciated nonetheless.

Merik beamed warmly as she stood beside him. "Flowers or not, you look much better. I think it suits you."

"It'll do for now," she smiled back at him. "You, on the other hand, look like somebody out of one of those Wild West movies."

Merik was wearing his leather duster over his dark jeans and black t-shirt, only in preparation for their departure, he'd also slung his bow and shotgun over his left shoulder. He leaned slightly to the right to balance the added weight.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, apparently confused by the reference.

"Oh, come on, it hasn't been that long since you saw an old western. You look like a cowboy. All you need is the hat, and the ensemble's complete." She grinned mischievously.

"There's no hat," he said, a look that appeared to be a cross between amusement and annoyance on his face.

"Yes, there is," she stated, tying the aged leather jacket the old man had given her around her waist.

"There's no hat," he replied again, slower this time.

"Really?" she questioned. "So what do you do to keep the sun off your head? Don't you get sunburned?" She raised her eyebrows in mock concern as he sighed his frustration with the topic of conversation.

"I don't get sunburned when I'm walking through the woods," he gestured toward the tree line just outside of town, obviously wanting to change the subject.

"Huh," she tilted her head as she scanned the forest. "Yea, there's definitely a hat." She set off at a quick pace before he could deny it again, but he caught up within a matter of seconds, falling into step beside her.

"You know, you don't exactly look the part yourself," he said, taking aim at her appearance now.

"Oh, I see....OK. So you're saying I'm not "witchy" enough for you? What do you want me to do...put on a long flowing black dress, ride around on a broom, and wave my wand?"