Night thoughts…

This week we’re stopping in at The Boar for the story of a couple who are fleeing death and heading straight into the story I wrote for NANOWRIMO last November…

Night Thoughts…

I know I’m asleep. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do…

It’s almost the same. The trees seem the same. The ground in the clearing looks the same. I can feel my blanket. But, it’s not real. It’s a dream.

It has to be a dream.

We’re in a little copse of trees. The only one for miles. We made camp here as best we could. It isn’t smart. Anyone following us will check here. The men I served with will check here.

It’s better to stay away from the obvious spots. But, there just aren’t that many trees in the valley. She needs some kind of protection from the wind…

Dancy’s a village girl. She’s not precisely delicate. But, after what she’s been through…

She’s hunched over a puny campfire trying to fry up the last of our food in an old cast-iron frying pan.

That’s how I know it’s a dream… We don’t have a cast-iron frying pan…

If her family’d had one, there was no time to get it. Not after what I did…

But they deserved it… What they were doing to Dancy…

It’s no secret. Troops take advantage out in the villages. But to see it… To see the results… I had no choice…

I have to keep her safe. I have to be sure.

I creep to the edge of the copse.

My eyes adjust to the darkness. It doesn’t take much; the fire’s small, and dim.

The fire is a bad idea, but what can we do…

I patrol the edge of the trees, trying to stay inside the brush, and pausing after every step to listen for unwelcome guests.

I finish my circuit. No one’s found us, yet.

Dancy passes me a stack of oat cakes on a worn ceramic plate. “It’s not much. But they’re warm.”

We don’t have plates… Definitely a dream.

I sit next to her and look into the night. The stars hang low around us.

Two of the spots are too low, too yellow, and almond shaped.

Those aren’t stars…

The ‘stars’ blink.

Dancy gasps.

Eyes… Head high… But not human…

I reached for my blade. Dancy stops me.

Slowly, a shape comes into view: a red muzzle with sharp teeth.

A fox…? It’s too big…

Our eyes meet. The fox snarls.

Its head turns, just slightly.

Dancy…

The fox’s head turns sideways.

Dancy takes my arm.

The fox’s head snaps upright… And then back toward me.

Our eyes lock. The fox doesn’t snarl at me, this time.

It comes all the way into the clearing. Its tail brushes my face as it circles us.

It sniffs the fire.

Our pan.

The plates.

My blanket.

It circles back to us.

It prods Dancy with a paw.

It’s running toward the trees…

We start to relax.

The fox turns and comes back…

It’s prodding Dancy again… And now it’s pushing her with its muzzle.

That’s north… We can’t go north…

Valle Dios, the city that sent me, is north.

The Allesnos are north… My old employers, my old family. They’ll know what I’ve done. And they won’t care why.

The fox circles behind us, and then comes up on my other side

It’s pointing…

Now it’s pushing me with its muzzle.

It backs up and rams me from behind.

“We can’t go north.”

Am I really talking to a fox?

“You have to… If you don’t…” the voice isn’t Dancy’s, or my own. “Go north or you will die…”

My eyes snap open to the glare of morning light.

Am I actually awake now…? Or is this still the dream…?

My hand slides over her body, hugging her close. Feeling her warmth.

I guess I’m really awake…

Dancy’s eyes flutter open. She hugs me back.

Regretfully I slide from her grasp.

She reaches out for me, then relents.

I stand up.

Dancy sits up and folds the blanket.

My mess kit’s lying on the ground, open and empty.

I pick it up. “Wish we had breakfast.”

Dancy nods. “Do you think they’re still looking for us?”

“Probably.”

“Can we get past them?” she asks.

I look south. Smoke’s still rising from the village ruins.

“Probably not.” Even if they’re not headed north, they’ll be looking for our trail.

“Then…” Dancy stands, and looks into my eyes.

“We have to go north…” If we don’t go north we’ll die…

“The…”  Her eyes go wide. She shakes her head. “The city is north…”

I nod. “It is.”

Dancy takes my hand. “At least we’ll go together.”

The story Night Thoughts, its parts, characters and other content are the intellectual property (copyrighted material) of Patrick S Kidder AKA Farangian.