The Gift of the Lethe

Continuing On

Pallas grimaces at the ruckus raising itself outside, a high voice is practically screaming into the tent.

"Lady Pallas! Wake up! We must continue on now."

Pallas opens her eyes to the bronze ceiling of the tent, a shadow sitting atop it. She frowns up at it, flipping the blankets off of her so she can sit up.

"What are you doing?"

"Retrieving you! I said I would return when it is hunting-time. It is now."

Pallas frowns. Could she really have slept that long? It would have been what, twelve hours? She normally sleeps for perhaps eight and a half hours, but that is nowhere near twelve. How exhausted was she? The owl makes another sound, its tone slightly more exasperated.

"Hurry up!"

"Can you wait five minutes? Calm down."

The owl's shadow wavers as it presumably shifts its position. "I don't know what minutes are, but you're wasting the moonlight. Hurry up."

"Okay, okay. At least quiet down for a minute, I need to change."

"Change what?"

Pallas exhales through her nose. "My clothes. I'm not currently dressed in something I can easily hike around in, so I need to change."

"Okay."

The bird finally, blessedly falls silent and Pallas sighs, slumping back onto the bed. She wants nothing more than to curl right back up and fall back asleep, but she shouldn't. She told the owl she would be right out, and so she shall. She slips into sturdier clothes and pulls her mass of curls back into a loose tie, not caring enough to take care of it further.

Pallas grabs the bag of ambrosia from the table, leaving the nectar bottle where it is, and slips the bag into her pocket. It's probably a good idea to keep it on her, right? Just in case. She presses on the seam running down the wall of the tent where the opening would be, ducking through the flaps when they appear.

On the other side, she pinches the corner of the tent to her side and reaches for the one across from it, her arm straining to reach it. It takes her a moment or two to grasp it, but once she manages she pulls the corners towards each other, gasping as the tent seamless folds up into the cloth.

It's easy to fold it back into a small square, and then she tucks it into the pocket not containing the ambrosia. Suddenly without its perch, the owl wheels, trying to recover before it can hit the ground. It manages to glide over to land on her shoulder, grumbling to itself.

"Why did you do that?"

Pallas' voice is dry. "Says the one who was screaming at me. Shall we go? Or do you want to keep wasting moonlight."

The owl gives her an angry look and huffs before flapping off of her shoulder, soaring away from her towards the trees. With a sigh and a shake of her head, Pallas follows it, her eyes flicking from tree to tree and staring into the gloom.

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I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think will happen next!

Happy reading and I'll see you next chapter!

~ Goddess of Fate, signing out