Thanks so much for all y'all's reviews! It really means a ton to me, so keep on reviewing! I had some sort of a block so that's why I took a while, but now I'm on a role. Anyway, read, review, and visit my updated website for the latest at www.silvers-heaven.cjb.net.

DISCLAIMER: I wish I may, with all my might, that there is no fight, they'll give me my right! Jokin'! None of the characters belong to me.

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LOST IN LITA'S FOREST

Chapter 3

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Ken sighed in relief as he slunk down against the wall. The past twenty minutes, he calculated, had been hectic. Too hectic for his liking. After he had shocked her and the fire started, he quickly dove towards her and pushed her out of the way, rolling her with him to put the flame on her sleeve out. He groaned softly as they lay there for a couple of seconds, trying to gather their thoughts. And truthfully, he liked how velvety her skin felt. But the scorching atmosphere brought him out of his wandering thoughts.

Hurriedly jumping up as he realized that they were amidst a fire that was soon going to engulf the whole house, he had run to the sink (or wooden tub with a hose) and wildly looked around for a basin or something similar.

Not finding what he was looking for, Ken had just ripped out the sink from against the wall and sprayed the fire all around. He ran back to the hose, spent a minute trying to figure out how to turn it on before the water finally spewed out and he ran back to the fire and watered the blaze down.

He gave another sigh of relief, running a list of thanks to everyone in his family and all the gods he believed in. He supposed he was partly to blame, considered he had startled her. Which reminded Ken, he had a maiden to attend to. Slowly raising himself up, he limped over to her. She was supporting her ankle with her hand, gently massaging it. He quietly lowered himself and lifted up her ankle gingerly. After carefully examining it, and trying to avoid the Maiden's penetrating gaze, he concluded that it was only sprained. Ken limped over to the few cabinets in the small kitchen and searched for a rag of some sort.

After he found the rag, which looked as if it was made from a type of papyrus and after promising to probe it later, he limped back over to the forgotten hose and wet the towel. Finally returning to the Maiden, as he had now taken to calling her, Ken wrapped the wet towel around her ankle and secured it.

"First aid," he told her with a smile, momentarily overlooking the fact that she didn't understand him. Although curiously, she did give him a small smile in return, which sparked his curiosity further.

He watched as she delicately tried to stand up and walk around. It was troubling and hard, but at least her ankle had some kind of support. She started to wander around the kitchen and pick up the furniture that had been knocked down in sudden haste. Luckily, only a part of the floored was burned to charcoal. She walked to a small closet and pulled out a woven rug. It was of perfect size so she set it over the black floor. She continued to tidy up; obvious that Ken was watching her guiltily.

He had to make it up to her, Ken thought, seeing how she walked awkwardly on one foot. Abruptly he left. He had an idea.

He was gone for a while, she noted as she settled down slowly onto a wooden chair, which had survived miraculously. She busied herself with tidying up the table and weaving thin pieces of bark, intent on making a basket of some sort to store her utensils, since the old basket had been burned.

She didn't know how long she had been working, just long enough to finish the basket. She sat there weaving and thinking. Thinking of why she was being aloof to this knew stranger, why she was intent on alienating.

He came in time to watch her put last stitch and perfect her basket. He watched as she turned it over, inspecting it, but her mind clearly elsewhere. As she set her creation down, he decided that it was time to make himself known. Slightly tapping on the wood door, he walked more into the room and closer towards her.

She looked up surprised and her eyes strayed from his dirty and lagged face to the objects he held in his hands.

Ken held it out. "They're crutches," he said as she looked at him with questions running through her eyes. "You seemed in so much pain earlier this morning, that I felt so bad, since it was my fault, and I felt obliged to make it for you."

She said nothing but stood up cautiously from her chair and Ken snorted slightly. Like she would understand him anyway. He handed them to her and she softly ran her hand down the smooth piece of wood, which was very well crafted by- well by Ken.

He gently took them from her and quickly wobbled around the room to show her how to use them. After letting him make a fool of himself a couple more times around before she nodded in comprehension and took them from him with a slight smile on her face.

She gingerly tried the crutches. Satisfied that they were stable enough, she rewarded his hard work and sweat with a bright smile and teetered off into another room. He stared after her.

She was something, he thought as he sat down at the table and pulled out the laptop he had brought. As he waited for it to boot up, his mind wandered to the Maiden. Did she understand him? He was pretty sure that she did. Her eyes held a hint of comprehension when he spoke to her; of course, it could have been amusement- after all, he *was* making a fool of himself… He smiled slightly and the beeping of his laptop brought him out of his thoughts.

Damned woman; kept him from working. He shook his head and stared at the blank document he had opened. What to write… what should he write? 

His assignment had been to enter this forest and write a persuasive piece on the forest. The forest was on the verge of becoming extinct, and unfortunately for him; he was stuck with a job, which employed environmentalists. But then, that's why he chose this job, this newspaper, this career. To make a difference. *This* is what he wanted to write about.

Well, not this exactly. He wasn't exactly the nature type of guy. He preferred writing articles about hunger and poverty, but those were already taken by the two most arrogant writers. Darien Shields and Serena Shields. Ironic that they were married. He shook his head. It was probably Nephrite who had "suggested" Ken to take this piece. Darien and Serena, as haughty as they could be, were actually decent people and fantastic writers- he had to give them credit. But, Nephrite, not only was he an atrocious writer, worse than a middle schooled child, but he was a cockier bastard as well. And he was one step higher than Ken. As usual.

Ken scowled. Nephrite always had to best him in everything. Women, writing, anything. It pissed Ken off to a great extent, because he knew he deserved to be the boss of Nephrite, instead of the other way around. And he was going to use this piece to prove it.

Staring at the screen determinedly, he began furiously typing whatever came to mind. 

Ken gazed at his screen intently and reread what he wrote. It needed the occasionally fixes, but other than that, it wasn't bad for a first draft. He raised his arms and stretched. Glancing at his watch, he realized that he had typed for half an hour straight with no pauses or distractions. And it had been awfully quiet. Unusually quiet.

He wondered what the Maiden was doing. Cautiously pushing his chair back so it only scraped the wooden floor delicately, he got up and slowly walked to the other room. She was there, as he had figured, and was sitting on the floor making another basket and humming to herself once again. This time, before he startled her, he cast a wary eye around the room. Ken was satisfied to see that nothing dangerous or flammable was in sight.

He gently tapped on the wooden doorframe and her head shot up. She had a surprised look on her face as well as a guilty look. What would she be feeling guilty for? Ken wondered as he went to her. He shrugged it off as he held his hand out.

"May I see?" He gestured towards the basket she held. When she didn't do anything, he hesitantly took it from her hands and lightly ran his fingers across the woven rods. He kneeled down beside her and looked her squarely in the eyes.

"This is a work of art," he told her, not breaking his gaze. She didn't say anything. He gave a frustrated sigh and rubbed his temples.

"Look, I'm not going to force you into talking to me, but realize this: I know you can understand me, and I'm certain you can speak."

He watched her expectantly. She still kept silent. Mentally, he counted to 10 before slowly letting out a breath.

"Alright," he muttered. "Feel free not to speak and torture me. Not like I don't mind. I've got a while to be tortured anyway. Whenever you feel like relieving me from this mind-numbing silence, I'd be more than overjoyed. Even a name would be nice…"

He stopped talking when she placed a finger on his lips. Their eyes clashed as they silently stared at each other, anxious to see what would happen next.

Finally the Maiden made the next move.

"Lita," she hoarsely whispered. "My name is Lita."     

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Well?? *gazes expectantly* What'd ya think?? I finally got her to talk! Please review! It'd mean so much to mean because I love this story and I really want to know what you think. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated (any review is!)! My website is www.silvers-heaven.cjb.net.