Ch.33 Glass Bubble

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Chapter 33

The next morning, Wren was up before the sunlight hit the land. He stood by the barn door staring out at the horizon as the morning fog rolled over the sleeping town. Some of the animals had started to walk out and graze on the wet grass, life was about to begin again.

From behind him, Wren heard Birdie whimper in her sleep. The small sound caused his jaw to tense as he willed himself to remain still. He did not want to turn around and look at her. He did not want to go lay beside her and pull her into his arms to ease her fears. What was the point? She would just wake up and accuse him of the bad dreams once more.

Pushing himself and clenching his jaw as hard as he could, Wren stood guard at the door. It wasn't until Birdie awoke with a small yelp that Wren stepped out into the open air and headed over to where he had tied the horse. He could feel the adrenaline from Birdie's body running through his system as he knocked on the farmer's doors and paid him the remaining balance for staying the night.

"Would you like some breakfast for the road?" The farmer asked. "My wife is making some butter biscuits."

"No, thank you," Wren said, his stomach in knots. He couldn't even think about eating at that moment.

Turning away before the farmer recognized him, Wren made his way back to the barn. He could hear Birdie moving around inside before he stopped at the door and cleared his throat.

"We need to head out," he said.

Nodding, Birdie stepped forward. Her cheeks were scarlett from her nightmares and her eyes wide from leftover fear. She didn't utter a word as she climbed onto the horse and waited for Wren.

"You're not going to get on?" She asked when Wren began to walk the horse out of the farm gates.

Wren didn't rely. He starred straight ahead and led the horse down the dirt path towards the towers in the distance. He could feel Birdie's eyes on him. The satisfaction of knowing her eyes were on him should have thrilled him to his core. But the anger he felt towards her didn't allow him to enjoy the moment. Wren wanted to turn towards her and glare.

"Wren?" Birdie tried after a long stretch of silence.

"What?" Wren answered before he could stop himself.

"We could take turns," Birdie said. "I could walk for a bit."

"No need, sultana," Wren muttered.

"Fine, then maybe the horse can take a break."

Before Wren could protest, Birdie climbed down. He paused and finally let himself look at her, shooting as many daggers as he could with his glare. Birdie frowned and stepped back.

"What?" She asked.

"Turn around and walk," Wren said.

"No, I'm just going to stand here and admire your murderous glares," Birdie rolled her eyes. "Let's go."

"You're grouchy," Birdie observed.

Wren refused to engage with her. He kept to himself and held onto the rein as they made their way down the dearth roads and out of the small farm town. Within a few minutes, the houses in the distance began to spread apart. Pretty soon they were surrounded by flat land with bald patches of grass that gave away to sandy waves before losing all it's green and becoming a golden desert.

Birdie shielded her eyes from the harsh dry winds as it undid her braid and tossed her silver locks around. Wren paused to peer into the distance towards the shimmering glass city that seemed to rise out of the ground and pierce through the clouds.

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