The crackling of the wood fire filled the room, unless the usual howling of the wind picked up outside. I pulled my legs close to me, and a shiver ran down my spine. My gray eyes over to Paul, as his footsteps filled the room, and he handed me a coffee mug. Giving him a quick small smile, I took a small sip and tasted the coffee on my tongue.
"You know, not many people go out into the coldness with very little layers of clothing on. Most would say that's either crazy or completely insane to do."
I laughed a small bit, and watched him sit down on the brown leather chair that matched the couch I was on.
"Then I'm crazy and insane enough to go out into the cold. Sure the temperatures drop to a degree, but I'm not afraid to even go out. You know that I've been in colder temperatures, especially down in Antarctica."
He merely nodded his head at me, and we sat in silence while drinking our coffees. Staring down at mine, I could feel the sorrow slowly crawling up me, reading to break through my skin and allow the tears to come. Standing up, I walked over to the fire and stared at the vibrant flames that were flicking up from the burning wood. With one hand, I brushed back the long locks of my red hair that was falling into my face, and glanced over at Paul.
"Okay, so far you have my attention Miranda. There's something wrong, so what is it?"
Turning towards him, he removed his sunglasses from his eyes and I stared at his amber-brown eyes. Blinking, I looked away as he casually let out a laugh and gave me on of his relaxed grins. Out of all the people that I have come to know, he's the most relaxed person out of everyone I've met. And he's always been the most easiest person that all of the Secret Scientists could talk to, especially me since I've confided secrets to him the past and he's never told anyone about them. Which earned he earned my trust. Letting out a sigh, I quickly let the words slid off of my tongue.
"How is it that out of everything that has happened, you're not angry at me? I practically betrayed all of you and defended the Saturdays? Why don't you at least show one small bit of resentment towards me, Paul? All of the others have, so why not you?"
He got up from the leather chair, and approached me with a bit of caution in his steps. He set his coffee mug on the coffee table and did the same with mine after taking it from my hands. His left hand sat on my right shoulder, and he gave me a small smile. Staring at him in confusion, he ruffled my hair that I usually kept tied up in a bun. That resorted in me shooting a glare at him, and he just laughed.
"I'm not one to be angry forever or hold grudges, Miranda. Okay, I was mad at firs but you did what you believed was right and I can't hold it against you there. So you changed sides of at a battle, who cares? We've all changed sides at one point in our lives, except for Epsilon, but we've done it plenty of times. What you did may seem right to you, and not to others, what are we to do about it? Force you against your will to do something that you don't wan to do? We can't do that, and you know it and so do I. And that much, I clearly understand it."
I brought Paul into a hug, and he hugged me in return. We stood in silence, and I could hear the howling of the wind growing louder. And I knew outside, there was a storm brewing. We parted away from each other, and he looked towards the window.
"You know the darkness of the storm outside is reminding me of a dark story, that I heard of when I was little. Ever heard of the Wendigo?"
I shook my head no at him, and he sat down on one end of the couch and I sat down on the other end. Raising an eyebrow at him, and he gave me a grin that was full of excitement.
"It's a creature with skin that's been pulled too tightly over it's own bones, and the color a deathly ash gray. It's own eyes are hard to see, and looks as though this creature came from the grave to haunt the land. Its own lips, tattered and bloody like an apple beaten to pulp, and it's own flesh hanging off of its own body and it gives off a horrible smell, as though it really did come from the grave here. And it never stops eating, it will always hunt for food."
I found my attention drawn to his words, and my heart was starting to beat in my ears. Stories like these, I was never truly fond of and I remembered when I was little that these would give me nightmares. So whenever a scary story was being told, I would be out of the room in a heartbeat. But here, Paul had me drawn to the story that he was telling me.
"But the story of the Wendigo, has two known tales. Both with different endings towards the main characters, and the stories are only set about thirty years apart from each other. One story is of Jack Fiddler, and the other is of Swift Runner. So which one do you want me to start out with first?"