Anne
Shuffling sounds outside the tent and the cold of the morning air seeps into the tent and sinks its vicious claws into my body. Shivering, I go to burrow into Waya when I find his place empty. My eyes flutter open and I rub the dryness from my eyes. Stretching and yawning, I look around the small tent only to find the tent flaps open a bit.
Crawling to the flaps, the breath leaves my body when I find Waya standing before our tent, three men from the sister tribe standing before him. Wohali stands in the middle. I fist the grass in my hand, watching.
"Young Waya, it has been a long time," he starts. "I heard about your brother, a shame. He was a great warrior. The white men did it, yes?"
I stay quiet, as to not alert them that I'm awake. "What do you want?" Waya's voice is colder than I've ever heard it.
Then men beside Whohali snicker. "Then you had to marry the white trash! Pity." he laughs. "You know what we want. Give us the girl." his tone snaps, becoming serious.
When Waya says nothing but pulls out a knife the men try to take him down, with quite a struggle.
Warrior indeed.
He swipes at one man, swinging his fist into the second man's face, blood gushes fro his nose. Waya fights off the men gracefully, more graceful, even, than the ballroom dances in London. Adrenaline spikes through me as he pushes them back, back, back until one catches him off balance and takes his legs out from under him.
I scramble inside the tent and find a knife beneath the furs and grab it, going back to the flaps and wait for Wohali to shift his balance. Shifting on my feet, my heart launches in my throat as they finally start to pin Waya and hold a knife to his neck.
No. No. No.
I charge.
No one saw me coming.
I throw myself onto Wohali. I just need enough time for Waya to shake of Wohali's lackeys. My throat clogs and I swallow hard, gathering my courage.
"Here I am. I'm who you wanted right?" I taunt in their native language.
He raises an eyebrow. "Brave. Stupid girl. Children speak better than you." he spits, baring his teeth, whipping out a knife of his own.
Heat flares up my neck to my cheeks at the insult. "Scared of a girl?" I tip my head to his knife.
Come on, Waya. I can't distract forver.
Wohali scoffs. "A stupid girl is a dangerous girl. You're more of a threat to yourself. Come with us and I'll make your end quick."
I dance from foot to foot nervously. Longer. More time. Hurry up Waya! "We both know it won't be quick," I retort, keeping the tremor from my voice.
Waya takes out his aggressors and starts toward us. Unfortunately Wohali is done entertaining me and decides to take out the threat. He charges at an unarmed Waya and my heart leaps into my throat as I do the only thing I can to save Waya.
I launch myself forward and push the knife into his abdomen with a gasp. His body falls with a thud and I stumble back, chest heaving and look toward Waya.
He rushes towards me, wrapping me in his arms as I stare as the lifeless body of Wohali.
I just killed a man.
He runs a hand over my hair, tucking me to his chest. "It's okay, don't worry, Anne. You did what you had to to protect me." Waya strokes my back as my body collapses against his, feeling hollow.
"I didn't know what else to do." I mumble, burying my face in his warm chest. "They would have killed you."
He pulls away and cups my face in his rough hand, making me look him in the eye. Eyes that aren't just brown but amber, so beautiful and unique. "It is okay."
"Maybe I should leave. Save the tribe the trouble." Yes, if I leave no tribes will come to dispose of me. My people will dismiss them when I am nowhere to be found.
The wind ruffles his long hair. "You have nowhere to go, Anne. You're not a burden. Especially since you could speak on our behalf, be the bridge between our people." his words are reasonable and they give me a real purpose.
"I could really be in that sort of position?" I ask, still a bit skeptical.
"Of course. Elder Inola would have to make it official but I don't see her denying it."
Chewing on my lip, I glance at Wohali's body. His amber eyes find what has snagged my attention and sighs, shoulders curving. "Now that will be a slight problem, not with Elder Inola but our tribe and sister tribe. You'll be protected though. Don't worry. Maybe I'll ask Inola permission to stay away for a while." he grows more tired as he speaks and a bruise forms on his cheek.
I brush my fingers over his cheekbone and hiss. "I'm sorry, Waya."
He gives me a lopsided grin that makes him look slightly boyish and coaxes a smile from my own lips. He nudges me. "Makes me look rugged and manly, yes?"
I giggle and shake my head. "You're ridiculous."
We both laugh.
-~-
The rest of the day wasn't as light. Inola had to send the bodies to the sister tribe with a messenger. Waya disappears for hours as elder Inola watches over me. Hours pass and I can't wait for him any longer.
Tracking him down was surprisingly easy. He sits in the river water, staring into the distance. The sky gloomy and dark. I make my way over to him, settling into a spot in the water, letting my arm press against his.
"I miss him."
His brother.
"You two were close?" I ask.
Waya nods. "Very close, he raised me after our parents died. He would have done anything for me. He would have liked you too." he smiles.
I snort. "Right, because I'm such a popular person in the tribe."
Waya chuckles. "You're fierce. He would have seen that, he was fun loving. He was all about fun."
"Oh, I see. so he would have done something like....this!" I abruptly shove him in the water and laugh.
He breaks the water, gasping and laughing. Waya grabs my waist and body slams me into the water. When I come back up, my hair sticks to me like a squid. He pulls up my chest wrap to cover me back up, from where it had fall, and we both laugh. "This reminds me of the day of our wedding," he says.
I grin, looking up at his striking amber eyes. "It was a beautiful day, the ceremony too."
A pull has me leaning towards him, his hands intimate on my bare waist. I rest my hands on his arms and I gaze at him. In London I would have had to marry a man old enough to be my father. Here I may not have had a choice but I have grown to care for him, and he can't be anymore than seven years older than me. He is more of a man than any man I could have married in England.
His hands pull on me, my body flush against his, intense and intimate. There is no one like him in England and I am married to him. His head dips and when I push up on my toes, a breath away, a horn blares in the distance and he groans, squeezing my waist before pulling away.
"What is that?" I ask, feeling the loss of of his warmth as we put distance between us.
"I have to leave."
"Why?" I search his face, seeing his guard snap up.
"It's time for a hunt."
-~-
A tense silence lingers between us as he gets ready for his hunt and I stand by the water bucket, watching him. "How long will you be gone?" I ask, fidgeting with the ends of my hair.
Waya keeps his back to me and I step up behind him, pressing his shoulders down so he rests on his knees. I work my hands through his soft hair, my heart squeezing, braiding the long strands, tying it with a leather strap. "A week, maybe longer. Winter is upcoming so we will need to haul in what we can before meat becomes scarce."
So long... when I finish the braid, he stands and turns to face me, eyes looking pained. His hands reaching for mine and I squeeze tight. He smiles, running his thumbs over my hands. "Your hands are so soft," he says, caressing my hands between his own.
Butterflies tickle my heart and I can't contain my giggle despite the sadness from him leaving. "Is that odd?" I ask, looking up at my warrior, ready for a hunt.
"Most women around here have rough hands from labor, but yours are unique." Waya gazes at my fingers, brushing a finger over the white tips of my nails, and he smooths his rough hands over mine. Finally he looks up at me our eyes locked. "I'll remember them while I'm away. Along with your smile."
My breath hitches as he pulls me gently closer and presses a tender kiss to my forehead. His lips a soft brush on my skin, sending chills over me, skin tightening with anticipation, my heart racing.
"Come back safe," I whisper, my eyes drifting shut.
"Always, my adsila."
Slowly his fingers leave mine and cold seeps into my body. The loss itself deep in my chest as I keep my eyes closed for a long time before opening them to see empty space where he used to be...
His words echo in my head,
Always, my adsila
His blossom.
The wolf and his blossom.