The TwiceBorn

The Power Of Names

“I confused things with their names: that is belief.”--Sartre

Alora studied the girl’s face for a few moments and tried to figure out the gist of her thoughts.  She quickly realized she had more chance of figuring out what ran through Loki’s head than she did Islinn’s.  The girl could take stoic to an entirely different level.

Alora cocked her head, puzzled by Islinn’s expression, then leaned in and lightly kissed her.  She felt Islinn smile as she pressed closer but she knew it was probably a wistful, sad smile, for whatever reason. But her lips were smooth and warm from the sun and the smile was enough, regardless of the thoughts behind it.

Alora withdrew and smiled herself with what she hoped was reassurance.

“Let’s not worry about it though, all right?  I doubt we’ll even cross paths with them.”

Islinn nodded and glanced down.  Her voice was hesitant.  Shy.

“Thank you, Alora. That was ever so nice.”

Alora abruptly laughed, at a loss for words.  She turned towards Loki and shook her head.  Islinn’s smile faded.

“What?  Did I say something wrong?”

Alora slipped Loki’s saddle off and watched for a moment as the big horse dropped his head and began to graze.

“No, of course not.”

 Alora propped the saddle on its end and dropped the saddlebags alongside.

“It’s just odd for me to hear that, is all.  Believe me; people don’t thank me for much of anything, much less me touching them.”

“I like it when you touch me.”  Islinn stammered then looked appalled by the mere sound of the words as well as the fact she’d spoken them.   Alora turned to look at the girl and her eyes rested on the torn lower lip, and the bruising along her jawline.The sight turned what Alora knew to be an innocent comment into something more like a cruel joke.  She looked away.

“Let’s get set up, it’ll get dark quicker here under the trees, you know.” 

It wasn’t the best thing to say but it was all she had and Alora wondered, as she watched Islinn turn and head off to take care of the stag, if she’d ever get any better at it. 

Was it something that improved with practice or would she always be so…aloof?  

She didn’t know but she had never been one for idle chatter and now there seemed to be some sort of need for it.  The mere thought of it made her feel a bit clammy.

She checked the waterskins and was satisfied they’d have enough for their mounts, to cook with, and to clean up a bit.  If there wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t be difficult to find more.  The surrounding bushes were exceptionally lush in appearance, signaling a water source and there would be heavy dew come morning that could be collected if she chose to do so. 

“Alora?”

She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to hearing her name again either.  But she liked the sound of it coming off of Islinn’s lips; that was something she couldn’t deny.  She turned and saw the girl standing by her elbow.

“Yes?”

Islinn gestured vaguely around the clearing.

“I’ll set up camp.  Why don’t you rest your hand? The yarrow won’t keep it from bleeding if you continue using it. “

“I can’t just sit here and let you do everything.” Alora frowned.  “There’s wood to gather, and Loki and the stag still have to be cooled out a bit.  I should probably set some snares, see if I can’t catch…”