The numb journey from Jack's woodshop to the festival grounds seemed to pass quickly. He was climbing over the gates in no time, walking to the Oaktale Compass. He didn't bother to set up his makeshift tent again, instead he leaned his guitar against the wall and let his satchel drop before he collapsed to the ground, weeping once again.
Bast, having heard the return of a stranger, was pleasantly surprised by the boy's return. She followed him, finding him curled up on the ground with horrible noises coming from his throat. She did not meow at him, nor did she move towards him. She sat just ahead of him while he choked on his tears, watching with knowing eyes.
"Bast," he choked out, seeing her. He scrambled to sit against the wall, scooping the cat into his arms despite the protesting meow. She was quickly purring as he hugged her close, dampening her fur with his sobs. She did not mind. She just hoped he had brought her bread.
They stayed that way for a long time, until his joints grew stiff and his tears would not fall. It was nearly nightfall and he resigned to sleep in a covered shop for the night. Although he felt so heavy, weighed by his sorrows, he dragged his weary body down the steps and into the nearest shop with Bast close at his heels, eager to never let the boy out of her sight again, abandoning his belongings for the time being.
He collapsed to the ground, barely curling around Bast before he was asleep, his eyes already sore from the tears that had been shed.
BINABASA MO ANG
A Trek of A Storyteller
AdventureThe second part in my trilogy of the young boy. A Tale From Before is the first, and now that our young Storyteller is freed of his captor, he has the whole world to explore. At long last, he is able to settle into a life that erases his past from h...
