Wizard of the Wood

Harvesting Horsetails and Horrors

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5

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It was cold in Essie's home. There was no soft crackle of the fireplace, nor the sounds of scraping sigils on parchment. The top of Rylir's head and his nose barely poked out from the top of the covers, exposed to the chilly air. He curled beneath the furs on his bed and pulled his head under to the warmth he had generated while he slept.

The bliss of warmth and sleep could not last sadly.

Rylir wasn't sure what he was expecting. He knew Essie was literal. He knew she was straightforward and candid in response and directive. Still, he hoped that she was overexaggerating when she said they would be harvesting at first sun's light.

He received a tap on his side while he dared to barely stir from his slumber. The tap was meant to rouse him from dreams and thoughts beyond his comfort within the furs. The second wake-up call came when Essie pulled the top cover off of him entirely.

The frigid air poured over him like an icy rain. Instinctually, he coiled in on himself, and her immediate response was, "You received fair warning and you will be warm in my hood. The sooner you relocate there, the sooner you will be reunited with your blanket."

Rylir, body shivering more violently with each passing second, squinted and, through his blurry vision, saw the tips of Essie's fingers come into focus; a sight that made him involuntarily shiver and clumsily fumble his way backward away from her. One too many times when he was living on his own did he find himself among gigantic beasts or thugs ready to drive him out in an instant. The blurry visage of a person ready to do him harm and the size of Essie's fingers were eerily similar.

Rylir felt his cheeks immediately start to burn scarlet from embarrassment at his reaction. Though what had happened was a knee jerk reaction which he had trained to be instinctual, Rylir didn't mean to shy away from Essie, who had never hurt him. He had a moment of fear that he might have hurt her feelings or that he might have upset her.

Digging the heal of his hand into the corners of his eyes to rid them of the early morning blur, Rylir looked up into Essie's eyes, ready to apologize profusely for his behavior.

Essie, on the other hand, didn't seem bothered by his reaction. Rather than chastise him, Essie simply kept her hand stationary, expecting him to climb on so they could proceed with the morning herb harvest. She already had her hood over her head and, right by her neck, he could see that she already secured his blanket into a makeshift pocket.

Rylir collected himself before forcing his body to his feet, heart now quaking in his chest because of what he knew he needed to do and what she was silently asking of him.

Rylir never had a reason for distracting Essie and her level of care when she held him. It was not even her that made him uneasy; rather, it was the experience of being held as a whole. Seeing the lines and grooves that constructed her fingerprint served as a stark reminder of how her size compared to his size. Something so unnoticeable on his own hand was pronounced on hers so clearly.

Just beneath those lines was a warm, present pulse. While the warmth in the cold was welcome, it was the subtle thrum that brought about his unease. Why, he wasn't entirely sure; however, it was present all the same.

Regardless of what he felt, one thing was certain – there was no escaping his chores for the day.

Despite his discomfort, he knew Essie would have an earful to say if he tried to back out today, and she was right in a way. He wouldn't need to do anything but pay attention to her lessons. She would be the one traversing the mountainside and harvesting the herbs.