Risk

Chapter VII

As she was sitting there, thinking about home, a sharp beam of light cut across her eyes, and she almost jumped in shock. Here she was, thinking so deeply about home that she was even imagining things. The sun couldn't actually be real. It was just her imagination, sparked by the strange scent. But that couldn't be true.

She looked up to see that the afternoon sun was sifting lazily through the fog. She could see around her for several yards—all the way to the skeletal tree line. They were still in the dark forest, which sent a pang into her heart.

She had been so deep in thought that she hadn't heard Rowan get up, or anything else for that matter. She was shocked to see that he had already packed up all of the supplies and was untying the horse from its place at the edge of the clearing. She had been even deeper in thought than she'd realized.

She wondered if she'd been put under a spell of some sort. She wasn't usually one to get to captured by her own daydreams.

Her stomach rumbled and she regretted not asking Rowan for something to eat.

He walked over to the fire and crouched down, studying the dying flames for a moment before he looked up at her, his almost-black eyes glinting with humor.

"Are you awake? I was starting to think maybe you had died in your seat." His voice sounded serious, but she could tell he was joking by the gleam in his eyes.

"Of course I'm awake. I was just thinking." She frowned, turning defensive.

He raised his hands as if trying to calm down an angry bear. "You don't have to growl at me. If you want to come, I'll be leaving just as soon as I finish packing." His eyebrows were raised and the gleam of humor never lifted from his eyes. That same ghost of a smile flickered over his face for a moment.

"I'm sorry. I do want to come." She said, looking at the fire, which had burned down to a charred log and some glowing embers.

He walked over to the horse and tied some ropes over the pack on its rump, securing it. Jasta stood up, clutching Rowan's coat against herself so it wouldn't fall off of her shoulders, but after a second's consideration, she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

She walked over to where Rowan was standing, but before she reached him, he swung himself up onto the horse's dappled gray back. He offered his hand to her.

She hesitated a few moments but finally decided to take it. It was surprisingly easy for him to lift her up onto the horse, and she once again wondered how his thin arms could possibly hold so much strength.

She had no ropes holding her down this time on the horse and she dreaded having to hold on with the horse at a full gallop. It had been hard enough with a secure anchor, but now she would only have her own questionable grip on the saddle.

Rowan twisted around in his seat, pulling a can out of what seemed to be nowhere. It was unmarked and rather small, but when he pried off the top, the rich smell wafting up from the opening made her stomach clench anew with hunger.

"I thought you might be hungry." He said, again with that smile that was little more than a twitch of his lips.

Jasta didn't know what it was that was in the can, but it smelled good and she trusted Rowan enough to know he wouldn't poison her.

So she took the can and hesitantly reached her hand in and plucked off a piece of the strange lump that was inside.

Whatever was in the tin smelled like freshly cooked meat and had the consistency of warm bread—a strange combination, but good nonetheless. After the first small nibble, she began eagerly devouring the rest of it.