Chapter 20 - Isolation
"Come," she says. Her shawl is pulled from her shoulders. She wraps it around her hands and takes a step closer.
Edward slowly blinks. Sometimes she's blurry when he opens his eyes; sometimes she's clear as day. She's closer now than yesterday. Yesterday she was by the tarps that hang over the tent. Pitch darkness, but the moments his eyes clear up, he sees her.
He sighs. His chest constricts from the dread of this consistency night after night. If he had the strength, he'd tell her to go away.
Empty stomach. Empty brain.
It's the dead of winter, and the cold is relentless. Layers and layers of snow are around him. If he attempts to leave the clearing, his footprints will mark the way back home. He can't. Even if the last of the food is gone, days ago, he won't go find more.
Wherever.
However.
Isolation is absolute.
"Are you coming?" she insists. Her shawl billows above his body lying on his bed, and drapes over the sleeping bags. All he can do is weakly shake his head.
This woman from the woods won't go away. Women, in his life, troubled and troubling. He never asked for them to come. Just when he feels his worst, feels like he might slip away in his sleep, this particular one walks into his campsite.
She beckons with a gesture toward the outside. The tent is open. Her palm curls up, and so does he. He burrows deeper into his cocoon. He never wants to follow.
He just prays for warmth.
To the Lady of the Woods with the shawl he says, Not tonight.
…