Wild Tiger Chase | Book #2 (Complete)

36: a path to cidade santa

— Rafa —

Rafa opened and closed her hands, watching as her bandaged muscles bulged. She had felt it. During her sparring session with Léon, she felt the cosmic trace flowing through her veins again in a way she hadn't experienced since she was eighteen, more than ten years ago.

It was fleeting and lasted only a moment, but it happened. It happened, and now she was starting to feel the same old hope blooming in her chest again. The hope that one day, she'd see her companions again.

And she needed to stop.

Hoping would only hurt her again. Sapha and Sophi were dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. And still... Rafa looked at her palm and pretended to see orange crystals covering it. She closed her eyes and could almost remember her companions' voices calling to her; sweet voices, sweet sayings, and sweet moments that—

"Do you really need all that shit, Pipo?" Phillip asked.

The moment was broken.

"It's not poo," Pipo said, furrowing his brows. "It's water and earth, and it's mixed. Leo used to put mud on his face and called it a, uh, Heav... uh... ly?"

Rafa chuckled. "Heavenly?"

"Yes. Heavenly cure for his pores." Pipo turned around and thrust his little hands into a small puddle of mud, the aftermath of the storm from the night before. In the following moment, he raised two handfuls of mud and threw them against Phillip's chest, smiling a mischievous little smile. While he was at it, Pipo's fish companions floated back and forth the dark depths of the forest, bringing flowers and seeds to glue on Phillip's mud-covered shoulders.

"Well, at least your face will get all pure and clean once he's done," Rafa told Phillip.

He groaned. "It's really all I needed before dying."

Rafa's smile shrunk. Her tone was soft when she said, "Phil, oi. Raise that head, mate." She tapped a finger under his chin. When Phillip raised his eyes to meet hers, she smiled. "We'll find a way to help you. All right?"

Emotion glimmered in his eyes. Phillip cleared his throat and spent no more than a heartbeat in silence. Then, he smirked. "What, so you're saying this skin treatment won't save me?"

"Of course it will!" Pipo squealed, slapping more mud on Phillip's arms. "Bea and Boh told me, so it's true. My fishes. Bea and Boh. It's their names."

Phillip and Rafa shared a smile. Rafa had been watching Pipo and his companions help Phillip for the past hour, and it never ceased to amaze her how creative the little one could be and how patient Phillip was with children. If a kid tried to stick twigs on her hair and cover her face with mud and flowers, she might not be as indulgent as he.

She had to confess, though... Phillip's fever had been controlled and he hadn't blabbered nonsensical rubbish for the past ten or twenty minutes now. Maybe Pipo was helping him.

"I think you forgot a little spot right here, Partner," Phillip said, pointing at his mud-covered cheek.

Pipo giggled. "Well, that's a job for Legend-little."

"Legend-little?" Phillip laughed. "That your hero nickname?"

"Yes!" Pipo beamed. "Like Leo's!"

"Bring the mud, then... Legend-little."

"Oh, absolutely not." Rafa placed her hands on her waist, making Pipo freeze mid-action. "You kids had enough fun. Besides, we've been waiting here for an hour; it's time to go. Whatever's keeping those two gits, it's not as important as our lives."