Odymn follows the Slain
through the Themble Wood.
Watches muscle
ripple beneath his leggings,
leather shine and shadow.
The Slain leans
on Wen-le-gone's staff —
small acknowledgement
he does not have
to walk alone.
The Slain straddles
a branch of banyan.
Crawls over.
Turns to take Odymn's hand.
She jumps to the branch
and stands there,
looking down.
He puts out both hands.
Fits them under her arms.
Lifts her to the ground.
Odymn puts her hands
on his shoulders.
Looks up
into his eyes.
They pause there,
amethyst and blue,
assessing one another.
The Slain's hands
slide to her waist.
He pulls her hips
nearer his body.
Inclines his head.
Longs to taste
the rim of her lips
but the memory lingers
of the finger dipped
in pilinoth sap.
Moves one hand
to the back of her neck.
Tangles his fingers in her hair.
Pulls back.
Looks into her eyes.
Says, "Why did you stay?"
Odymn remembers
the teal tunic
soaked in his blood.
His pulse like the rise and fall
of grell-feather down.
His breath almost lost
on ephemeral Sintha wind.
Her breath, pressed thin
under weight of dread.
She says, "Because I love you."
Odymn lays her face on his chest.
Inhales the smoke and salt
of his skin.
The Slain smooths her hair,
tips back her head.
Runs his finger
along the bridge of her nose.
"And I love you,"
says the Slain.
YOU ARE READING
Meniscus: One Point Five - Forty Missing Days
Science FictionAfter the Slain is shot, Odymn and an Argenop elder work together to try and return him to good health. As they journey towards the Themble, survival is a challenge. Odymn must add to her foraging skills and survive an attack by the vicious kotildi...
