𝕻𝖔𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖘 - (Wilbur)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟖

It had been a fortnight since the ball, since Wilbur left Inka in his room to cry. Inka had mostly moved past it; she was good with treating relationships as though they were temporary. Apollyon would state and say that attachment issues aren't the healthiest that he's seen amongst humans, Inka didn't believe him. She spent more and more of her time without the castle, without Sally, without the daemons. She spent her time alone. Moving to a different spot and minding herself there. Finding foreign nymphs and Sally's naiad friends to talk to if she were ever to be lonely. And if she wanted to be alone in the comforts of a crowd, she'd delve into the poetry and the stories she wanted to write with Wilbur, but he never had the time for.

It was moving on entirely. Moving away from the chapter as if it were a one time thing even if it irked her: that was how she did things. So one day, she was wading through the stream; Sally had run off with Wilmott for the warmer seasons as it turned out when she never returned but met with Inka on a day where Inka went to the beach. The current was cooling and had just the right amount of pressure to let her walk through but still face a challenge. No fish, unfortunately, though that did make it good for Inka to not ruin the wildlife of the area. She heard someone jump into the current from a fair distance away, and she turned her head so quickly, she was sure that even they felt the movement. It was a satyr. One of her greater fears stood in front of her. She stepped away as he edged closer, shaking her head in denial as the creature put his hands up. It was a sign of peace but by how much could she trust it, Artenos would have said to leave. Everything about her was screaming to turn on her heel and bolt as far as she could, to go against her own morals and survive with Artenos following behind. It felt nearly nostalgic, thinking of how she would have to choose between Mortality and Logic. But he stood in front of her with his arms up and pointed at his shoulder, an arrow dug deep into the very fibres of his tissue, and though it wasn't leaking, she knew it would.

Artenos was still an infant, and Apollyon knew it wasn't Inka's time. So he did what he had to, he left to call someone.

She edged closer, as did the satyr, and he sat down when she got close enough. She nodded at the injury and told him to wait, she'd be back soon.

Returning with herbs and honey, she pulled out the arrow and felt the satyr tense in vulnerability. Never had Inka heard of nor seen a satyr being vulnerable. But she was quick to treat it, then quick to back away. Foolishness was a curse and Inka didn't want to fall victim to it again, of course she knew that the whole thing could be a stick up to get Inka to approach the satyr. So she treated him and edged away, slowly trying to get away from the goat man for the sake of survival.

Being a nymph was so difficult. It was a constant game of survival and no one was truly a friend. Inka felt she should have complained about it before, but she never did; it was what she grew up being used to, and it was clear that spending time with passive humans who were in the sanctuary of a home made of stone walls and brick roofs had ruined that instinct for her. Only slightly, as she pivoted away from the satyr and broke off into a sprint.

She sprinted as far as she could, as the sound of someone chasing her grew louder. When she turned back to see, it truly was the satyr. At that moment, she knew she shouldn't have helped heal him. He was injured! No way in any direction for interpretation would he have been able to keep up with Inka nor would he have been able to catch her. But she helped him, and now he was chasing after her for who knows.

She ducked under branches and vaulted over dead logs; she swung across streams and lakes; she snuck through bushes and all to no avail. The man was still following her and was losing distance between them (not to the help of Inka's attempts to hide). And then she reached the stream with the opening, a bush between a small opening of grass and an even smaller opening with a rock in the middle of it. She sighed at the scenery she avoided and stood there, the sudden rush of depression was enough to have Inka let herself be taken then and there.