Faithful Pebble
Part Sixty-Six
Pebble released his arm then tilted her head. "Thank you," she said, her voice softening slightly. In apology. In uncertainty.
The wanderer watched her. Her cloak nearly vanished in the dark, melting into the trees until he could no longer distinguish one from the other. His fingers itched for his watch, for its light and the ability to see. Still, he did not reach. He purposely did not seep those brown and strong and green depth fingers around its twitching chain. He licked his lips and waited, planned out his steps while watching is companion sigh.
"And your answer," she asked. "What is your answer to my question?"
The man shrugged and looked away. "Do I like fairy tales?" he parroted. "Not particularly." His voice hardened. In anger. In hurt.
Pebble watched him silently.
"Why?" he asked.
Pebble shrugged and turned away. They followed the violets until they came across two patches of white. She paused. He paused. They waited. "I thought you might want to hear a story about the forest, about why it is forbidden." She looked at one patch and then at the other. In a moment, she turned left and not right. At this the wanderer sighed, his theory temporarily blown. The flowers looked the same.
"It would pass the time," she said.
The wanderer nodded. She was right.
Hope you don't mind two chapters. Again, thank you for reading. - Calla