The Fist

3

      They walked in silence, her behind him, for almost an hour, the silence only broken by the hushed whispers of the world around them. The whistle of the wind, the clicking of the branches, the creaking of the snow under their shoes and their sighing breaths.

      The whole time, Ava got to thinking. About the coat and whether she was in fact following a thief, and whether that was the case or not, where would he take her? And about the blood she'd seen, that she'd buried. It had played on her mind so often she'd finally given in and decided to play with it further. She'd come to the conclusion that she wanted to know why it had come to be there, and how. Her mind breathed curiosity and became more restless with each passing moment. "Nathan, have you seen any blood around here? Do you know why it would be here?"

      Nathan stopped.

      Ava bumped into his back. He stayed in front of her so she peered round his shoulder, wondering why he wasn't still moving. And then she saw it.

      Blood.

      Painting the lowest branches of the tree in front.

      The pungent metallic smell of the old blood made Ava's head ache. She assumed it must have been having the same or a similar effect on Nathan but that wouldn't stop her looking around them until she found a congruent splatter of blood a few metres away.

      Nathan turned to face her and lifted his eyebrows in question, waiting for an explanation.

      He didn't get one.

      Ava walked towards the second patch of blood, seeing her chance to find answers, grabbing Nathan's hand and pulling his braced feet through the parting snow. After what felt like forever, Nathan picked his feet up and walked alongside her. What Ava couldn't see were the silent tears running down his cheeks. Together, they reached the second pool of blood, and once again, Ava looked around them for another. There was one, and another just behind it, and possibly even a third.

      Mouth drawn into a thin line, she followed the trail of blood. Trusting that Nathan would follow, and zoning out the world around the scarlet spills, she didn't grab his hand that time. Eyes glued to the ground, her footsteps failed to skip a beat or two over the blood and instead trod right through it.

      And on she went. More stale blood appeared with every puddle they passed. "Maybe we should go back..." Nathan's rattling voice whispered to the back of Ava's shaking head. The wind tore at Ava's hair, throwing the sharp ends into his face.

      Nathan dropped back, "Ava..."

      She waved his concern away and kept walking. "Isn't any part of you interested in what we'll find? Doesn't any part of you want to know what you're living out here with?"

      "I already know," he whispered, much too quietly for Ava to hear. 

      Ava grew more and more uncertain with every step. She could find anything, and there were some things she wasn't ready for. A few paces later, she turned off track a bit and stood still, staring at the next dribble of blood, a little dizzy. She looked away from the blood, feeling sick. Turning around, she start moving again, slower. "Nathan!" He wasn't right behind her as she'd imagined he would be. Disappointed, she called for him again, "Nathan?"

      Nothing but the singing of distant birds.

      The woods suddenly felt a lot colder as Ava followed the blood path back to where she started. Her pace increased as her worry grew. "Nathan?" Again, nothing. Maybe he really wasn't to be trusted and he'd meant to leave her all along. Maybe he knew that blood had been there and had led her straight to it on purpose. What if he's meant it to scare her away? Only it hadn't done, so he had to leave her instead.