The Wild Within

Glowworm

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TEN

Sunlight permeates my eyelids like water seeping through wet socks — startling, unwelcome and entirely unpleasant. I groan and turn away, shielding my eyes with my arm, wondering why I'm so exhausted. Ahh, of course — I stayed up last night painting with Darius. The thought makes me feel strangely fuzzy inside. It's been a long time since I got to do something so relaxing.

I give a great sigh and squint at the bright light. I've overslept; I usually go hunting just after dawn. Cursing myself, I hurriedly get up and throw my hair into a hasty bun, donning my usual khaki outfit and worn hunting boots. I creep into the lounge, careful not to wake Adelaide, and am greeted with Hedwig's eager licks.

"Hey, boy," I say affectionately, scratching his ears.

Darius lies fast asleep on the couch, his hair a nest of tangled curls, his mouth open wide as he snores softly. I resist the urge to laugh and tap his shoulder.

"Get up!" I call, taking a step backward in case he decides to attack me again in his sleepy state.

He mumbles incoherently and throws a pillow at me. I pick it up and throw it back, twice as hard. He yelps indignantly as it hits his face.

"Why would you do that?" he whines.

"You threw it first!" I realize that I sound like a toddler. "Wake up, sleepyhead," I grumble. "We're going hunting and it's late already."

The air is warm and musty as we trudge through the bush, and soon enough we are sticky and covered in mosquito bites.

"Where are we going?" Darius asks, and I point out a tree ahead.

He sucks in his breath. "This is the place we first met."

"Yep," I try to push away the ghastly memories of that day. "This is the best view of the waterhole."

I scale the branches with ease, despite my heavy backpack. The leafy boughs are as familiar to me as my own hands and I relish in the feel of the bark against my palms. I peer down to find Darius struggling to climb, swearing as he pricks his finger on a thorn.

"Why are you going so high?" he hisses from beneath me.

We settle on two thick, outstretched branches, obscured by the leafy foliage, and I gesture at the magnificent view before us. Bright sunlight turns the muddy water into a mirror, reflecting the cerulean sky above. Below, several buck graze on the water's edge, horns standing up proudly like little spears. I know from experience how much damage they can do.

"Reedbuck," I tell Darius.

"Yum," he supplies, and I snort.

He shifts uncomfortably on the branch, and I nod my head at his bow. "So, you any good with that thing?"

"Pretty decent," he winks.

"Well, go on," I challenge. "Show me."

His eyes narrow. They're the same bright green as the leaves above us and I'm once again mesmerized by their hue. He sets his jaw and maneuvers his arm so that he can aim his bow. The wind seems to be holding its breath along with me. I watch in fascination as his brows furrow and his arm muscles tense. The arrow flies straight ahead, whistling through the air, and just misses the nearest buck, almost brushing its tail. They scatter frantically, hooves churning up mini hurricanes of dust as they run.