The Universe Rings (A Ringing Purpose)

Chapter Seven

"Shut up." The low voice disrupted Kenneth's restless sleep; his eyes stung as he squinted against the sunlight seeping between branches.

"You're not still mad at me, are you? I wasn't going to risk my life for your friend." The new voice held no remorse for whatever angered the first person.

Only now did the understanding that people were nearby, conversing in the jungle environment, finally set in. Kenneth bolted upward, hitting his head on a branch of the lean-to.

The grim voice of the original person said, "I said stick it if you know what's good for you."

Footsteps crunched over leaves and moist dirt. Rubbing his sore head, Kenneth peeked through the branches of the lean-to, he could make out five figures but no faces.

The leader of the group said, "Quit the bickering, and go check that out." And another two separated from the rest, walking directly to the lean-to.

From Kenneth's peripheral vision, Halo huddled up in her skirt for warmth, clearly deep asleep. Kenneth snatched the pocket knife and flicked it open as he approached the exit of the lean-to with caution. He found he didn't care much for the new arrivals; they didn't talk all that friendly to each other, so they could easily be Interitus.

A shadow cast as a mysterious figure stood at the opening in the branches. Knowing he was cornered, Kenneth pushed the person back as he jumped out of the lean-to, and stood instantaneously, knife at the ready in case he needed to protect himself.

"Woah! Woah! Woah! Woah!" The person shouted, the first voice from earlier. A hand clenched the pocket knife and Kenneth slammed against a tree, the breath knocked out of him.

Before Kenneth could gather his wits, the tone of the voice changed, trembling in confusion. "Kenneth? You look horrible!"

Kenneth ceased struggling against the person, gaping at the face up close to his. Dior's brown complexion had lost any healthy coloration, and dark lines shadowed under his bloodshot eyes. His brunette hair tangled over his head, nearly reaching his shoulders, and fly-aways twisted down onto his high cheekbones.

Kenneth stood frozen, pinned against the tree. He eyed his pocket knife which Dior held high, but Dior thankfully lowered his hand. His expression contorted with horror and confusion. Kenneth hadn't seen him express such a range of emotions before.

Dior closed the pocket knife, and before Kenneth had processed everything else, Dior clenched his shoulders. "You're alive? I swore ya were dead!" Dior exclaimed. Kenneth only stared with a quite stupid expression; they barely knew each other, what was happening?

Dior backed up, stood straight, and pushed his hair out of his eyes—clearly attempting to regain composure. He asked seriously, "Where's Halo?" His brows lowered in worry as he stared down at Kenneth—he stood multiple inches taller. Noticeably, Dior's odor smelled of alcohol.

Kenneth found his voice enough to say, "She's inside."

Dior promptly handed the pocket knife to him and walked to the lean-to. He crawled under the branches and pulled Halo into a sitting position, jolting her out of her sleep.
Halo stared at Dior, rubbed her eyes, and asked, sounding half-asleep, "Dior, are you really here?"

Dior smiled faintly as he replied, "You look like a gal to hallucinate, but you ain't right now." His eyes darted around the shelter and he crawled out, leading Halo out with him by the hand.

Before Dior got the chance to stand, Halo embraced him. Dior reciprocated the hug, eyes glazed. "I thought you died," he whispered.

Observing his surroundings, Kenneth noticed Dior's companion standing off to the side, squinting in judgment at Dior and Halo. Not far stood the rest of the group, not paying much attention to them.