Running Red

Chapter 5 - The Man Who Was Not a Man

By the time you finish this chapter, you'll have a pretty darn good idea what's going on and if not, the next chapter will do it for you. Man, I'm nervous. Ok. I'm done here. Read it, freak out a little bit, and tell me whatcha think.

Also, a formal apology to my fan EveinJessieJCornish. I told her I would upload about two weeks ago and I failed to do so. I've felt bad about it since. Really sorry!

-FO97

The forest smelled like pine needles. Smalls animals chirruped in the overhead boughs. The night sky was shady blue as the milky white moon rose ever so slowly above the far away horizon.

The man ran his tongue over his incisors, feeling each elongated tooth before moving to the next. It was cold. His breath came in white clouds as he walked. The cold, however, failed to faze his journey. In fact, an onlooker may have found the opposite; he wore only a pair of breeches, leaving an impression of ruggedness on his bare chest, shaggy long hair, and dirty feet.

He looked to be searching. He was walking next to a granite wall. It was slick and sheer and towered above his head. He scanned it, looking first up, then down, then up again. He was patient and appeared intent on his work.

The night was silent except for his breathing. Deep and loud breaths. Not labored. Heavy.

His tongue touched his two front teeth, then his swollen cheek. A cut had appeared in the skin next to his lip and he licked the leaky blood away from the incision.

He looked at the far above peak. He could hear noises. . .music and laughter, though their sources must’ve been miles away.

He paused once in the wall to test a very small handhold a foot above his head, but upon feeling it, dropped his hand and continued walking.

A scent. The man did not pause in his walking. The scent grew stronger and he waited silently, reflecting upon each little detail in the stone wall. The scent grew in strength. He could tell it was male. A crack in the granite wall interested the man and he stopped to run his fingers across it.

 The source of the scent was almost upon him. It was musky, thick, earthy. It smelled young. It smelled excited. It smelled anxious. It smelled dangerous. He let it come.

Footsteps. The man did not take his eyes off the wall.

A shadow emerged from the trees. Definition evolved as it separated from shadows. A youth, older than a boy, but younger than the man, approached. Like the man, he wore a single pair of ragged breeches and nothing else. Also like the man, his teeth appeared too large for his mouth, his cheeks bulging and his lower lip split.

The man managed to tear his gaze from the stone barrier to gaze at the youth with piercing green eyes. He was shaking, the man saw. He was young and inexperienced and it was hard for him.

The youth nodded his head once.

The message between them was simple.