The Call of Nys #5 (Waverly Stump and The 7 Realms)

32 - J U D S O N

Nighttime in Wyvernwildé was a marvel on its own.

One could tell just by the myriad of animal noises that nocturnals existed more abundantly in the forest realm than their daytime counterparts.

It seemed as if nothing ever slept.

Judson laid on his back, wide awake, clutching a thick blanket to his chest. Somehow, holding the material in that manner felt a lot more comfortable than covering himself with it. Parallel to his left side, Phyllis was buried inside a grey blanket, sleeping like a newborn. He smiled at the way her eyebrows would often twitch in reaction to tiny insects that flew too close to her face. Though she seemed in deep slumber, he knew she was still conscious of her surroundings. A perquisite of being battle-bred.

He turned to the other side, where Diarmaid was equally fast asleep. Unlike Phyllis, he did not cover himself up. Instead, his blanket was folded as a pillow for his head. He slept on his right side, with both arms folded over his chest, like one deeply engaged in conversation. His untied hair fell over his shoulders, making him appear more at ease in his sleep.

Having spent enough time around Elven kind, Judson came to know that when an Elf's hair was tied back, they tended to look more serious even though it did not necessarily mean that they were.

It also led him to discover that he liked it far better when hair was let down in general; a default preference that started because of Waverly, whose hair was always falling on either sides of her face. He tried to recall if he ever saw her hair tied back. There had been one or two instances in the past, but neither was a prominent memory.

He shuffled, trying to get comfortable.

Why sleep kept eluding him was not strange. The environment was, ironically, safe. At least, it felt that way to him. Albeit being one of the most dangerous habitats in existence, the Great Jungle was too rare for him to take for granted. He could not sleep because he knew his passage through the terrain was a once in a lifetime experience.

It was bound not to happen again.

Just as he shuffled a second time, he felt a very low rumble underneath his back.

The occurrence happened too quickly to decide whether it was real or not. He replayed the sound in his mind, whilst waiting for it to repeat.

It had sounded like heavy footfall.

Choosing to inspect for threats, he rose as noiselessly as possible, rolled up his blanket, and stashed it into the baggage; then, he tiptoed away from the sleeping Elves.

When he was far from sight, his walking steps eased. The atmosphere was dark as it would be during the dead of night, making it impossible to see into a far distance, but Judson's eyesight permitted him to descry grass from shrub and tree. Looking about, he realized the rumbling noise might have come from a far distance since the night was not particularly quiet.

There was nothing nearby.

He chided himself for being so edgy. Yet he was not to blame. He could not help mistrusting the jungle after facing off an entire Nobility in one day.

In relief, he wheeled to go back.

At that moment, the earth began to rumble.

His hands dropped from his waist as he stared wide-eyed and with a gape at the trees. They groaned and creaked, teetering in odd directions as if they were on the move.

When the quivers intensified and trees began to fall with deafening snaps, Judson finally found the will to move.

"Earthquake!" He shouted, sprinting into a run.