A/N:
Laura K. Howlett: Then the cow sneezed. His reaction was so extreme that he shot backwards and slammed against the opposing wall.
"HahahaHA!" Laura K. Howlett burst into laughter. He has a sibling vibe? Sign language and cute little soft black bunnies as a diversion to
check a guy out? Update. Haha, I know! Laura's clever. It's totally what I would do. I have three luvly bunnies of my own XcD And yeah I
have no idea why but every time I think of Julian in this story I see him having a panic attack while the cows watch him calmly, chewing
cud...cracks me up. weirdo
Miss Nunya:I was gonna review for all 3 chapters but i slammed my finger in the car door today and typing is a little hard.
This is all so random. I like it! Is laura gonna be mute for the whole story? (not that i mind, just curious)
Sibling vibe? Yeah, right! lol Can't wait for an update! OUCH! That's awrful. Your poor finger! And...read on 8c)
(Volume: 1 Chapter: 4)
Chapter 4: hunter
Julian woke up, for once, not to the rooster, but to the knowledge that someone was in the room with him. Dawn was just starting
to break. He opened his eyes, sat up; Laura was perched on the edge of the ladder, her legs dangling over it. She smiled at him and
held a finger against her mouth, indicating he was to be silent.
He stared at her. She was wearing—just about nothing. A strip of tan leather around her breasts, pulling them together—a kind of
thong dress on her lower half that only reached her mid thighs; her legs were bare. He tilted his head, glad she had told him to be
silent because he couldn't think of anything to say. She was in better shape than most of the girls on the Squads—and wearing
almost less than most of them—and here, in this moment, she was much, much hotter. She had a quiver of arrows slung on her back,
and a bow. He reached for his clothes, but she shook her head. She then made a beckoning motion at him…and jumped off the ladder.
He rushed to the edge and looked down. She was nowhere to be seen. He reached for his clothing anyways—damn if he was going to
be half-naked too. With her out of sight, he could think clearly, and he reminded himself that he hadn't felt attraction for Laura before
this moment. It had to just be a combination of factors.
When he descended, he ran to the doors and peered out. There she was, at the edge of the forest, waiting patiently. She was barefoot,
too. He jogged over to her, struggling to button his shirt.
Laura rolled her eyes and turned away, obviously thinking he was stupid for bothering with clothes. He guessed her mother didn't
know what she wore while 'oft bringing home venison'. She led him along the forest's edge for a while, her head tilted; he noted
her shoulders. They were square and muscular. She suddenly held up a finger and slipped sideways…into solid brush. He fought
the branches; they seemed to be attacking him as he tried to get deeper, following the minute shakes up ahead of Laura
weaving through.
She eventually held up a hand for him to wait, and ploughed on ahead. Unable to restrain his curiosity, he followed; she almost
ran up a tree—she made it look so easy—and crouched on the branch, watching a point somewhere beyond.
As quietly as he could, he followed her; peering around the tree trunk, he saw she was watching a deer grazing calmly in the clearing.
It was far away—he expected her to jump down, and almost started to follow—but she remained in the tree, pulled her bow from her
back, and an arrow from her quiver.
He tilted his head, unable to help himself from admiring her. She was quite interesting…he wondered how she hid it all under that dress
her mother made her wear—and that sack-outfit she'd been wearing when he'd first seen her. Of all three, Julian definitely liked this
current one the best. He shifted uncomfortably. It was awkward…he was a guy, and he'd just woken up…to basically see some kind
of Goddess waiting by his bed. He was getting ideas he didn't like, because he wanted Laura as a friend.
SING! He hadn't even seen her string the bow. Just a tiny twitch of her shoulder—and the deer dropped, dead, an arrow in its jugular.
"Holy," he said. Laura glanced down at him, held her finger to her lips with an irritated look, and pointed. There was another deer, a bit
farther down. It had looked up at the arrow noise, but had not run.
"…" Julian watched in astonishment. This time, he caught the swift motion she used to bring the bow to the arrow, and the moment she
let it fly, her hand steady and her eye focused. The second deer toppled over.
Now she leapt to the ground, replacing the bow on her back. She smiled at him and motioned that he should follow, then turned and
started off to collect her prey. Her stride was long and slightly crouched. How could he have not noticed how graceful she was before?
It was astonishing because he hadn't thought much of her before, had barely noticed her physical aspects when she'd cleaned up.
And they were always the first thing he noticed in a girl.
They reached the first deer and Laura wrenched her arrow out of its throat, studying it. She seemed pleased. She moved on to the other deer,
making a gesture that (to him) looked like 'pick it up'. He stared at her.
"Laura! It's way too…" the girl turned to him, the other deer's legs hanging over each of her shoulders, and stuck her tongue out at him.
He turned back to the deer. He'd be damned if he was going to let a small girl outdo him in strength. He struggled, and eventually got it
somewhat onto his back, far less gracefully than Laura had. She turned and started back through the woods.
…
"Oh!" Sarah exclaimed, catching sight of them with the two deer. "Oh, my!" She looked quite happy; Julian raised his eyebrows. Laura had
walked right up to her in the equivalent of a bikini—in whatever godforsaken time this was—an age of repression, no doubt—and Sarah hadn't
even noticed.
"Lay them in the back. I'll get your tools," she told her daughter. Laura nodded, then proceeded to carry the deer to the small patch of
grass-free dirt behind the cottage. The hens had scratched all the foliage away in their forage for seeds. She dropped the deer, and
pointed at the ground, indicating where he should put his deer. Julian let it slip from his shoulders and felt a thousand times lighter.
She was grinning at him again—she had a smear of blood on her cheek, from the deer's jugular spraying when she'd pulled out the arrow. He
licked his thumb and rubbed it over the spot, without thinking—and their eyes met. They stood, frozen, with their eyes locked, until they
heard the door of the cottage bang, cutting the tension. Laura crouched beside the deer and ran her hand over its pelt, frowning slightly.
…
That evening, Laura was back in her dress, her hair neatly combed, her curves hidden. Julian was at the table, having supper with her and Sarah,
after a day of chopping wood. He'd tried milking a cow—the cow he feared least out of the bunch of cows—whatever they were called—and was
quite proud of himself; the feeling of accomplishment faded when he saw Laura again. He'd been hoping that it was just her outfit that had caused
the strange attraction; but here, now, looking at her in her dress, he could still see her curves, and the confidence and grace to her movements
was now quite obvious, even though repressed. It was, of course, not as strong as this morning—but it was there, and he wasn't going to be
able to ignore it like he'd hoped. Three weeks of content friendship…gone.
Laura caught his eyes several times, even in the middle of 'conversing' with her mother, her fingers flying to form different shapes. He
wondered if she would make her usual visit.
…
Sure enough, when he opened the door of the barn, she was there, standing beside the trough. She bit her lip and looked up at him; he
closed the door behind himself, looking down. He wasn't sure what to do—he wasn't sure what she wanted, anyway. And he was afraid;
in his experience, whenever feelings got involved, people got hurt. He wasn't sure how he felt about her—he knew she was a friend,
a good friend now that he didn't want to lose—but she might think something else if he…and he was going to leave, eventually.
He fingered the lowest button on his shirt awkwardly.
"Laura…I have to go to bed," he said, wanting to do the right thing. "You should…you should go."
She looked down, and kicked at the dirt floor of the barn. She seemed frustrated, too; she was possibly more lost than he was. He
frowned, moved forward and put his hands on her shoulders. "I don't think we…should, okay? It wouldn't be fair. To anyone." He
hesitated, then pressed his lips to her forehead lightly, briefly, above her eyebrows.
Laura inhaled, a shuddering sound. He released his hold on her and moved to the trough. He folded his arms, waiting for her to leave.
She was still standing there, her lips pursed, her hands in fists, and her eyes full of confusion. And…hurt? Oh, no, was she going to cry?
Her eyes looked wet.
"Please don't. I hate when girls cry."
She glared at him and wiped her eyes. Now she looked angry. She stomped out of the barn, and Julian felt like the world's biggest asshole.
And all he'd done was been the good guy—for once. He stuck his head in the trough, miserable.
…
Laura was silent to him for the rest of the week—more silent than normal, that was. She wouldn't even grunt, or motion to him, but acted
like he wasn't there. She seemed to become irritable, rolling her eyes at her mother's simple requests, and day by day she appeared to
'unravel', her dress seeming sloppy, and her hair messy.
Sarah seemed to notice this, and seemed uneasy.
And then—Laura disappeared. She didn't show up for breakfast one morning, and Sarah looked grim.
"Where—" he began. She hushed him, her eyes stern.
It went on for a week.
One night, as he was laying down, he heard noises outside. Scuffling. And what sounded like panting. He got up and peered out of the tiny, round
window at the top of the barn—and caught a sight that astonished him. It happened so fast that he wasn't entirely sure he'd seen it. About six or
seven canines—wolves—and the figure of a small, slim girl running naked in the dim moonlight, away from the area, her hair like the wind.
…
Julian's face, at breakfast the next morning, must have betrayed what he'd seen, because Sarah sat down beside him and laid her hand on his arm.
"Thou truly are a Friend?" she asked seriously.
He nodded.
"Thou has seen Laura." A statement.
He nodded again, not knowing what to say.
Sarah touched her face. "God's teeth . I will tell you, then…"
