He was crouched in the undergrowth, listening to them talking through the trees. He'd been on his way home, to tell Isolde about Fergus
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She moved silently. Walking on the balls of her feet. Axe held in one hand at her side. The jungle was quiet. Not silent. Never silent. But the breathing she heard, the rustle of leaves, didn't frighten her. It was a man. She saw his clothes. The flush of his skin. In the daylight it was easy to forget the nightmares.
She moved silently and she was nearly on top of him when he sprang up. She stood immobile, a living statue, the slow and curious tilt of her head and the quick dart of her eyes to search out what had him so afraid were the only movements she saw fit to make.
There was a moment, just a moment, when nothing registered with him but the gun in his hands and the voices. Then he registered the blonde hair and the bones of her face, so like his sisters, he blinked and lowered the gun.
"Yes," she says, voice low and toneless. The curiosity deepens on her face, but she doesn't think to ask him what's wrong. She waits for him to tell her or for the danger to show itself, her body tensing. Preparing for a fight.
There are dangers in the daylight, she has to remind herself.
Evey had been walking cautiously through the woods. Yesterday she thought she'd seen someone wearing the familiar red double-cross on a black background, although she hadn't been sure, mostly because she'd been hiding as soon as she saw it.
The fingermen couldn't have come here, could they? Well, actually, they could. They very much could. So she walked cautiously, and when she heard the rustle of brush up ahead, she froze, pulling the folding knife that the box had given her out of her pocket without thinking about it.
Isolde blinked and instinctively took a step back, saying nothing, pressing her lips together and knotting her hands in her sides.
This was something new indeed, and not a new she trusted. Another step back and she eyed it warily, not blinking after the first time, instead she just nodded.
The Mohawk stayed still for hours, hunted like that, emulated stones. For a moment, Ian stood stock still with the gun on his hand, and he was gone, and he didn't recognise her.
When he realised, when his heart almost stopped, he dropped the gun like it burnt him.
She didn't move, not really, except to watch the thing drop to the ground and even then it was just her eyes.
"All right wi'ye."
It fell like a stone, but the noise wasn't the same, it didn't do the same thing, cause the same looks on people. Rocks just sank. This thing looked to burn.
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She moved silently and she was nearly on top of him when he sprang up. She stood immobile, a living statue, the slow and curious tilt of her head and the quick dart of her eyes to search out what had him so afraid were the only movements she saw fit to make.
"Hello, Ian."
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His breath came out shaky.
"Sarah..."
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There are dangers in the daylight, she has to remind herself.
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The hand holding the gun went boneless and it dropped to the floor.
"It wasna...I didna..." For a minute, he thought that he was going to be sick. "I heard them."
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The fingermen couldn't have come here, could they? Well, actually, they could. They very much could. So she walked cautiously, and when she heard the rustle of brush up ahead, she froze, pulling the folding knife that the box had given her out of her pocket without thinking about it.
She would not be black-bagged again.
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And then he realised who it was, and just about crumpled.
"Beastie...Jesus."
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"Are we having the same kind of bad day?" she asked him seriously, unfazed by the gun, whether it was loaded or not.
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He looked at the gun in his hand like he wasn't entirely sure where it had come from, and slid it back into the holster on his thigh.
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This was something new indeed, and not a new she trusted. Another step back and she eyed it warily, not blinking after the first time, instead she just nodded.
"All right wi'ye."
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When he realised, when his heart almost stopped, he dropped the gun like it burnt him.
"Jesus and Mary. Isolde."
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"All right wi'ye."
It fell like a stone, but the noise wasn't the same, it didn't do the same thing, cause the same looks on people. Rocks just sank. This thing looked to burn.
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"Come here to me, lass," he said, quietly, and held out his hand.
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