Oberon and Titania

Chapter 3 - The Hunter and the Healer

My head hurt. A lot.

I awoke to the whistling of the wind, gasping. I wasn't dead, nor crushed. But there was the familiar ebb of pain that laced my rigid back, no doubt from hitting the ground before I passed out.

Not only that, but the sudden burst adrenaline from draining those roses had given me enough energy to heal my cut palm and catch up to the hunter and Mr. Sinclair, but the drawbacks had started to kick in, sending a dull throbbing across my temple. Ouch.

My eyes remained shut for a second, and the first thing I noticed was the biting cold nipping at my cheeks. The constant flapping of my hair about my face started to annoy me, too.

I decided then to open my eyes. Where exactly was I?

Gazing up at the most brilliant orange and red sky, my eyes settled on the warm tones, and I blinked once or twice, admiring the closeness of the beautiful near heaven.

Gingerly, I attempted to reach my hand skywards, as though to caress the cotton-like clouds, but stopped short of lifting it even a little; the issue was my arms and legs being tucked into some sort of blanket, which wrapped securely around my body, making me feel like a cocooned creature or something.

Frowning, I lifted my head a little off the hard ground and saw a black cloak—not a blanket—settled over me, tucked beneath my body to ensure the strong winds didn't blow it away. It took no time at all to recognise where it came from.

This cloak definitely belonged to Mr. Stranger.

So then... he was the one who cut the chain and pushed me away from the cannon's landing zone? He saved me?

Speaking of which, the hunter's voice carried over from a few metres away, and I almost called out, thinking he was addressing me, but realised quickly he was conversing with someone else. I shut my trap to listen.

"Puck," he said, voice as monotonous and lacking emotion as ever.

I might have misheard. Did he just swear?

I turned my head slightly to the right and saw his tall figure, standing close to the edge of whatever platform we were currently on. With the constant breeze rustling his black hair and clothes, and with his staring down over the edge, I realised where we were.

A building. We were on the roof... of a building.

And standing next to him...

I remained soundless as my eyes drifted over to the figure standing next to Mr. Stranger. With her back to me, I saw a display of honey blonde hair, waist-length, dancing in the wind. A stark ocean-blue dress hugged her torso, splaying out around her knees in a ruffled manner, highlighting her long legs in black tights. A small side bag rested at her hip, attached by a long strap over one shoulder.

Pale skin dusted with freckles embellished her bare arms as she held them behind her back, and the mysterious girl leaned her head in the hunter's direction, listening intently.

"Puck, instead of prying into my mission, try telling me why you're here."

Ah, so Puck was her name.

Mr. Stranger didn't look at her when he spoke, instead keeping his gaze on what I assumed was the street down below. What was this "mission" he mentioned? Was it to kill Mr. Sinclair?

The girl, Puck, twirled a lock of her hair as she stepped closer to him, ballet flats tapping against the roof.

"To see you," she replied, a delicate bounce sounding in her voice, which was both sweet and light at the same time. "Obviously. Why else would I be here?"