No Hands but My Own

Chapter 23 - News

 The sounds of cracking steps woke me.

It had been a very long night and I had, apparently, succumbed to the lull of rustling leaves, rushing wind, and the pleas of my aging body. Exhaustion weighted me down, dulling my senses. Still, I forced my limbs into motion, swinging myself upright from my sprawled position. Light filtered through my shuttered eyes leaving me desperate for day or darkness; I wasn't sure which. Gods, why are mornings so difficult?

The sound of another set of steps convinced my grudging body that day, in fact, was what I needed.  Dawn had just broken and painted the world in gentle golden light. A staggering shadow trudged through the brush, hands grasping at branches either to clear the path or to support it on its journey.

"Quala? Stop."

She kept walking, ignoring Gahnenal's voice.

"Please."

His wavering tone brought her to a halt, hands gripping branches tightly.  "What do you want?"

”You shouldn't be walking around.” Gahnenal strode up behind her, so close that if he reached out, he could embrace her. He didn’t.

“I need to work.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

“Sit with me?”

“Don't.”

“Quala, couldn’t you--.”

“Just don't.”

The tone of finality in Quala’s voice made his jaw snap shut. The silence between them blossomed out into a giant bubble, suffocating the noise of the woods around them. I could see streaks of golden light bounce and dance along their throats and jaws as they considered what to say next in the heavy air.

Slowly, Gahnenal began to move, laying a gentle hand on Quala’s shoulder. For a moment, I could saw Quala’s body bend into the contact. It was so sudden, so primal, and so quickly erased that I thought I had mistaken her stiff and sullen posture for a relaxed one in the wavering light.

Like a current, Quala’s stiffness transferred itself to Gahnenal. With a quick twist, he span on his heel and strode back towards the camp, never looking back. Quala turned, revealing golden drops trailing on her face. She shook her head, wiped her face and returned to trekking slowly across the uneven terrain, her movements jerky and unnatural as she attempted to limit her back’s activity.

Slithering down the tree trunk, I started running quietly through the woods towards where I was sure Quala would pass. Perhaps she’d like some company on her first raid back.

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“We need to talk.”

I sat up, sending the untrained kids I had been playing with tumbling. Like springs, they compressed then expanded to their regular proportions, ready for more rough-housing. Though their limbs seemed to be contorted in the strangest positions, the children always popped back up uninjured.

The miracle of youth as seen through the eyes of a old geezer.

A sardonic crossed my lips before I remembered that Sle was waiting for an answer.

“Talk in private you mean?”

Nodding the affirmative, Sle gestured for me to join him outside camp. Brushing off protests and dust, I waved at Shira letting her know that the little kids needed observation before they thought of setting the whole woods on fire out of boredom.