The Artist And The Spectre

Chapter V

Everyone knows tormented souls are drawn to the sea, but what authors don't often share is that not every aspect of the sea is created equal in this matter: a tumultuous, restless movement under a grey-black sky, if not a downright storm, can be properly brooded upon.
Therefore, can only deduce that the gentle lapping and clear golden light along the shore repelled our young protagonist with the force of a thousand magnets.

Almost unthinkingly she made her way not to the beach but to the high white cliffs jutting proudly from the sands and their mane of shady trees.
Her strides were long and restless, anxious as she was to outpace her own thoughts and the shame which nonetheless clung to her like a heavy cloak.

How long she had hiked into the woods Rowan couldn't say; but the shadows had grown faded and the sky was marbled with white and pink when she came upon a small green clearing. 
The exhaustion finally caught up to her. She collapsed against a trunk and buried her face in her knees.

Not five minutes had passed that a gentle sound of footsteps made its way to her ears.
Rowan's head snapped up, her body tensing, expecting to see the disappointed face of her relatives looking back at her.

Much to her surprise, the newcomer was a dainty girl of maybe fourteen or fifteen years staring curiously at her from across the small grassy plain. She wore a simple white skirt and a cerulean blouse, her long gold hair playfully swaying to and fro.
Her expression was hard to read: her head was tilted to the side as if in contemplation, her lips slightly upturned in the delicate hint of a smile; but her vivid cobalt eyes were locked on Rowan's with the uncanny intensity of a starving jaguar.

The eerie impression was broken as soon as the new girl blinked and combed her hair back with an elegant flick of her wrist before looking again in the other's direction; breaking into a brilliant and rather sympathetic smile.

"Hello there. Am I... interrupting something?" 

Rowan's surprise tapered into relief. She sighed and busted out her signature shrug. This seemed to amuse the other girl, who made a friendly huffing sound.
The newcomer skipped closer, tactfully averting away from Rowan's laboured countenance as she leaned her side against a nearby tree.

"Forgive my intrusion, but...  rough day?" 

The young artist sighed somewhat dramatically, pushing her head back against the tree and pinching the bridge of her nose.
"You could say that, yes."

She heard a light hum somewhere to her right, and a soft rustle of cloth as the stranger repositioned herself.

"Well... I was on my way to my favorite scenic spot in the area and I could use a partner. Would you care to accompany me?" Rowan turned her head to face the new girl, who gave a mischievous smile and added: "It would make for a great drawing~"

At the artist's befuddled expression she broke into a silvery giggle and gestured towards Rowan's hands. "You have grey stains on your fingertips, like graphite. Am I wrong?"

Despite herself Rowan felt the corners of her mouth lift into the beginning of a smile.

"It was a lucky guess." She stood up and dusted herself off. The other girl watched her somewhat eagerly.

"Ehm. So. You lead the way."

"Your wish is my command, my liege." The blonde girl executed a flawless mock bow, gracefully pinching her skirt between two fingers. She winked at Rowan before starting down an untrodden patch of grass, glancing back to make sure her companion followed.

The short-haired teenager hastily picked up her stuff and hopped in pursuit. Then she was struck by a thought.

"Oh! I'm Rowan, by the way."

She thought she saw seen her guide grit her teeth, her expression stiffening. In blink it was gone, and her new acquaintance flashed her a charming if slightly saccharine smile.

"You can call me Charlie."