Hounded [Wild Hunt Series: 2]

21: understandable

I Hold You - CLANN

The figure stood across from me, a blend of dark fabrics and shadows. A hood obscured their features further. They leaned forward a little, and then with a sudden rush a woman's voice called out a low, "Tay!" and promptly dropped back into a quiet tone as she slid and stumbled down to the water. I pulled away instinctively, unsure what if anything there was to be trusted out here- it could all just be another trick of the light (or dark). I didn't call out in turn or warn them about Shail prowling somewhere in the nearby reeds, simply fled further up my side, to the edge of the trees, to watch as they crossed the brook. She seemed torn between splashing through the water and moving more quietly, careful to watch for loose or slippery stones.

To the right, there came the soft swish of the crag cat's tail setting low in the reeds. Moonlight slid over the smooth strong skin of his shoulders as he tensed, ears flipping up and down as he seemed to debate whether or not (or when) to spring. He was deep in the reeds, took a low, quiet step and then another, water running around his paws, barely swaying plant water further than the light night wind would. Over the sound of their own footfalls, and the constant need to look down and then up toward where I stood half-hugging a tree trunk, they had missed Shail's presence entirely.

I took a deep breath. As corner as it sounded in the middle of the wilderness, with my ears straining for any other kind of sound that might indicate someone other than Shail sneaking, asked a tentative, "Who goes?"

The woman kept going another half pace, then froze, set her foot down back where it was. She reached up and pushed back the thick fabric. 

"Tay, it's me," she said as she flipped the end of her blonde ponytail clear. Her eyebrows and the delicate shape of her lips were pressed tightly in concern. "Dakota." 

There wasn't enough light to make for a 100% clean identification, and the darkness covered up a lot of flaws (the hair on the back of my neck prickled at what candlelight directed toward the King's twisted face had exposed). Despite the situation, I felt a stab of wooziness at thoughts of that mottled, broken beak nuzzled against my skipping pulse.

I must've been quiet too long, because Dakota took another, tentative step forward and said in a hoarse whisper that sounded far louder than In the tense night air, "Tay? You still there?"

"For now," I said in reply, getting a grip on the knife. "Just trying to think up a way to prove it's you and not some enchanted mud monster."

"You've seen a lot of those out here?"

"None that change faces," I replied. "But there's always a first."

"I'd say you could ask me anything, but given our history there's a strong chance you and I aren't going to remember certain events the same way. Sucks, we had our heads so far up our asses we couldn't be friends until the afterlife. You were kinda awesome, in your own spooky way. I just followed trends. I was jealous you just did your own thing. I know I might just be a mud monster, definitely feeling swampy these past weeks trying to find you, but I was shitty toward you and after everything we've been through you deserve to hear me formally apologizing again for being a dumbass."

"It's fine," I began. "We're past it. Come up out of the water, Possible Dakota. If you really are her, I'd feel bad about making you stand in a creek all night."

"I'm waterproofed," she replied, one hand indicating her attire. "Mostly. There's a little got in over the top of my boots, but it wouldn't be a good day and night's journey if there wasn't something to complain about. I'm also not wearing any eyeliner. One, cause I can't be bothered to paint my eyes on every day out here in the wild with who knows what type of ink and two, because I promised myself I sure as hell would not ugly cry when I found you."