Storms of the Sky

tiny suns - XXVI

TW: burns, cursing, bl..d, d..th, implications of ab.se, assa.lt

--Bastet--

         "What do you like most about Maylea, Bastet?" Quarry asks me a bit later.

The sun dips on the horizon, bathing everything in its warm haze of auric. The trees thicken, corralling in a straight line. I don't enjoy it.

I think about Quarry's question, focusing on my boots.

"I can be myself. Almost entirely," I say. The thirst for danger I leave out. The memories. The fact that I don't...okay maybe I do leave out a lot.

"Oh, how very wise," Avery says, squeezing her body between two trees. I follow her.

"Do you have something better?" I challenge. Avery whips her head around and glares at me. I hear Quarry laugh behind us.

We continue to walk through the dense forest. Only the noise of stomping boots and crunching leaves.

A twig snaps. A gleam of silver flashes in my eyes. Avery tightens her grip on the dagger.

Before us stands two...men? Their sickly rainwater skin. Braids loop in their hair. One has horns. They twist like a halo around his head.

"Holy shit they're elves," I whisper under my breath. Quarry steps to them. Avery flicks out another knife and angles it at Quarry.

"What do you want?" Avery hisses. The horned elf steps forward.

"You are traveling in the heaviest forest," His voice is thick with an accent I can't place. It's sticky like honey and as sweet as it too.

"We would like to show you around the thickets," He finishes. Avery scrunches up her nose.

"We are good, thanks," she says, mimicking her daggers. The elf frowns and takes a step forward.

"Bas," Avery hisses, throwing me the end of the knives. I catch them.

What...? I–I can't hurt them? That would be awful. I would be hurting another human. Elf–still. I know what it's like to be in pain. I don't want that for them. I would have caused it.

I gasp at my hands. They shake. I hold my knives. Unthreatening.

Avery unsheathes her sword. The warm sunlight glints off it, momentarily blinding me. Quarry stands there as freaked out as me.

"We are just trying–," The non-horned elf starts.

"I said we are good," Avery hisses, taking a step forward. She takes her blade in a battle position. The elves take a step back. The horned elf looks at me. I stand, frozen under his gaze. I shiver.

They turn around slowly before dashing through the woods. I stand watching.

A thud meets my ears. I turn around to see Quarry collapsed on the ground. He's laid out like a starfish.

"What the hell Avery, they could have helped us," he says, throwing up his arms from his place on the ground. I drop the knives. They clatter beside me. I collapse next to Quarry.

"You cannot trust anyone this deep in the forest. They always want something," Avery huffs, sheathing her swords again. It hangs by her hips.

"How could you tell?" I ask, looking up at the sky. The sun falls on my face, brimming warmth.

"They were too fidgety, and they wanted to help. Only travelers make it to this part. Desperate travelers who are running out of food and water. We are not desperate," she says.