Isla's Poison

Chapter 2 :)

          Isla stared at the walls in her newly made tent. Her days of traveling since seeing Milo had taught her many things. She signed and tucked herself deeper into the covers. She often went back to that night when she couldn't sleep. The time away from Mercy, from her home, changed her. 

           She watched the stars twinkle through the crack in the fabrics. It was so odd to know that Milo was sleeping so close to her. She had forgotten the feeling of his presence, his laughter, his hands, his stupid caring eyes. She hadn't been able to forget those. After so long way she pondered what had changed between them. He had somehow grown taller but something else was different. He wasn't as happy, as carefree as he used to be. She had not been able to for many nights now, but she excused it as new place jitters. Or watchdog syndrome. One of the two. She decided against trying for sleep and went to look around. The hut was built on a slight incline of grass, running to meet a small river. Isla loved watching rivers. They never stopped or hesitated they just went along the rocks and fish. She undid her knee-length wool boots and pulled off her socks stepping into the icy refreshing water. Her long blue tunic almost touched the water as she pulled up her brown leggings. She stepped carefully, seeing only by the light of the moon. She watched her swollen feet cool in the icy river and laughed as a fish slithered past her toe. She enjoyed the night, much more than the day, because of how magical everything looked. The moonlight sparkled on the newly fallen dewdrops on the leaves. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she skipped and ran, splashing water everywhere. If she were cold, she could not feel it. But she did feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She stopped and stood still, her icy blue eyes scanning for any possible threat. A silhouette was cast to her right, behind some trees, watching. Isla quietly withdrew to some trees, drawing her daggers out of her stockings. She threw one with perfect accuracy right above the silhouette's head. 

"What the-" spoke a startled male voice. 

"That was a warning shot." Isla firmly yelled, tightening her hold on her dagger. 

The silhouette stepped into a shade of moonlight. It was the man from the bar that had angered Milo so.  

"You." There was such bitterness in her tone the man stepped back. 

"I am not here to hurt you lass, on the contrary, I come myself in great need." He sounded in pain.  

"Step into the light." Isla commanded. He obliged, limping heavily as he did. He was lanky, like Milo, but slightly taller and older. He was dark skinned with kind brown eyes. He had not a freckle, but a slight scar ran over his left cheekbone to his eyebrow. He had a more muscular shape and wider shoulders. Isla's instinct told her he meant no harm, but her fear kept her hesitant. There were too many similarities between Milo and this man.  

"Who are you?" 

"I'm Leon Thatcher, miss and I mean you no harm." He raised his arms in surrender.  

Isla cursed under her breath. This was Milo's brother and he was a wanted criminal. This was not good.