Snow Angel (On Hold)

Chapter Ten: Keep Moving On

Chapter Ten: Keep Moving On

The sounds of water slowly dripping off of leaves of the surrounding forest and shack lull me out of my heavy slumber. For the first time in weeks, I wake up with out the familiar ache in my bones and the nagging pounding in my head. My eyes open up easily, feeling light from a full nights rest. As my vision slowly comes into focus, I notice that I'm laying down facing a familiar dull wooden wall. Stretching my wings and limbs out with a muffled groan, I nimbly untangle myself from the mess of blankets surrounding me.

Turning around so I'm facing the room, the memories of the night before crash into me full force. Instead of feeling anxiety as expected from two rogues on the loose, I only feel relief that heavy metal bars no longer contain me. As my eyes sweep over the wooden cabinets and odd remains scattered about the shack, they finally rest on a sight that would make anyone's stomach flutter.

There he was, Thyrion Quincey, in all his glory stretched back in the wooden chair he ha accompanied the night before, with his mouth open, eyes closed, and a soft snore reverberating throughout the small wooden confines of the shack. For once his face had a relaxed expression in it, no longer looking closed off and mischievous. His damp locks stick up in curly spikes on top of his head, confirming the fact that he had slept in a chair all night. Guilt washes over me, for I had the luxury of a soft bed and blanket while he sat on a hard wooden chair with only the clothes on his back to keep him warm. Though I had offered the cot to him, he seemed more interested in playing with a piece of wood and a knife then get some much needed rest.

Shaking my head, I rise onto my wobbly legs and stifle a yawn. Blood pumps through my body, awakening my limbs and senses. With a final stretch, I slowly creep up to Thyrion's sleeping figure. As I stop a foot from the chair, I take a minute to appreciate the serenity of him and his strong, steady heartbeat. I scan my eyes over the soft features of his face; his long nose, long lashes, high cheekbones, full lips, and the light stubble on his chin. Finally, my eyes travel down to his hands that are folded across his stomach lazily. In one hand rest the knife he had used to carve the wood, and in the other a small figure tucked tightly into his folded hands. I find myself not surprised that he had bravely fallen asleep with an unsheathed knife In his hand, for it seemed like the way he is. The one emotion that pestered my mind was curiosity.

My eyes keep flickering to the wooden figure in his hand, covered by his large tan paw, shielding it from my view. How I desperately wanted to unfold his hands to see what had kept him up all night, but logical reasoning was holding me back. Not only would he wake up, but he would be startled by my probing with a unsheathed blade in his hand.

How inviting.

After standing there chewing on my lip for a few minutes, I come to the decision to simply wait until he wakes up. After all, if he catches me going through his things while he's asleep, I have a feeling he wouldn't be so keen on helping me get back home anymore.

Slinking away from his stretched out body, I instead walk over to the wooden door of the shack. With some convincing, the door opens with a slight creak, allowing a burst of sweet scents and a soft breeze to enter the stuffy room. I stand in the doorway with my eyes squeezed shut in bliss of the wonderful morning air. A smile creeps onto my face as it reminds me of back home, when the sun stretches high in the sky and the rain of the night before brings the usually faded scents alive again.

I breathe out a content sigh as I lean against the door frame, enjoying the peacefulness of dawn. The sounds of rain dripping off the drenched forest trees and onto the soft ground and birds singing to each other reaches my eager ears. The fairy tale setting makes me forget that I'm being chased, that I'm far away from home, and that my parents are all alone. For the moment, I only focus on the unbelievably beautiful calmness after the storm.