Page 31 of Ruby
I scramble up and motion for us to move on, desperate to move the galloping horse thoughts onto something far less confusing.
12
Szhe’ka
It seems that Ree’s sister does actually listen when I tell her that speaking my language gets easier once she can slow down and process her song because she is able to communicate better with me. Although she spends most of the time telling me how much she doesn’t trust me and asking me for directions on getting away from me, not like I would be of much help in that sense.
I only know the way back to her sister and the orange beast.
I continue to do what I have done since the moment I came across her and continuously assure her that I am only trying to protect her and keep her safe until we can find somewhere where the hunters will not get to her. We are surrounded by trees and perfectly hidden but the knowledge that the hunters can be anywhere scares me into urgency and I decide that even if I have to carry her kicking and screaming to safety, I will.
However, when I turn to coax the angry woman and her beautiful red threads along, she isn’t behind me anymore. Aquick search and I catch her in a state that I do not understand and it worries me.
I want to call out to her but I remember that I don’t know her name and she doesn’t know mine and I’m thrown off. I cannot just stand by and watch her shudder and shake with a pained expression on her face and her eyes tightly shut. It almost looks like her own body is failing to listen to her and winding her up in a way that only your own body can betray you.
Her fear is so palpable in the air that I know any hunter or predator in the general area will definitely sniff it out and find us but I finally start to understand what she is going through. She tries to sing, but it comes out as a pained rasp and I don’t know what to do.
I’ve seen similar situations in the flock before. They were tortured by visions only they could see and the only ones who could help them when it came were themselves, but I offer my own song, something stable for her to hold onto until she could pull herself through.
I hover around her, unsure of whether I can hold her for comfort or if I even should but I do not stop singing.
She joins me, her voice weak at first, then building up until it harmonizes with my melody. I am joyful that she has found her strength in my song and as much as she doesn’t want to let it through, her song ends in a grateful tone, bright-red eyes communicating the words she will not.
We stay there for a while, just basking in the glow of shared strength; not a word said between the two of us.
I had already sensed her warming up to me earlier but now I can feel a palpable bond start to form between us. I let my eyes roam all over her face and body, taking in all the minor details and etching them into my mind. In the event that she actually makes good on her threats to leave, the memory of this moment of true closeness will suffice to warm my mind and... other parts.
My head tilts at that strange thought, but I don’t reject it.
I’d like to think about it more, but I notice that the last blushes of early evening have started. We will need to hurry and find a place to rest because I am sure she is in no condition to travel farther than a little ways and neither am I.
My feet are still heavily bruised and will need more time to heal properly. If I am in this much pain after traveling so long, who knows how much this small, fierce female can withstand?
“It is late. I find somewhere to rest,” I say to her as a wave of unnerving stillness settles over the forest, letting us know that night is coming.
She grumbles out a response but it is not refusal so I take that as a small victory and stretch out my legs.
As we are walking, I decide that I don’t like not knowing her name. Besides, I can’t keep calling her “Ree’s sister” anyway so I tell her mine first, hoping it’ll actually prompt a response this time and not her usual petulant retorts.
“My name is Szhe’kadedade. Yours?”
I desperately hope she will indulge me and let me know hers but instead she chortles, a magical tinkling sound that stirs my chest, letting me know that she thinks my name is impossible to say.
I nearly laugh with the fondness of remembering how difficult of a time Ree had singing it. It was quite insulting at the time but now I see that they cannot help it; their bodies were really not made to resonate properly.
I give her the short form of my name that I gave her sister as well and she falls silent.
I glance at her. “Give your name?”
“No name,” she chirps out and at first I can’t tell that it is said in jest before I see the new stiffness in her body.
She doesn’t seem too eager to hurl insults at me anymore, but it still makes my throat ache. I thought our shared moment earlier was also special to her, although there is still some distance between us as she walks. Her threads are a beacon, letting me know that she is close to me even as she lags behind a little.
It is silent as we walk, save for the crunch of branches and leaves under our feet and the occasional scampering of rodents around us and although I can tell that she wants to remain as silent as possible, she cannot help the small hums that leave her mouth at every unidentified sound coming from the dark shadows surrounding us and the jumps that make her move ever so close to me that the threads on her head brush against one of my lower arms.
She doesn’t seem to notice or doesn’t want to; I don’t point it out and when I look down at her, framed delicately in the moonlight, I decide that I will call her Red, like her hair.
It will do until I get a real name from her, if I ever do.
