[Kachi]: 373.Modern Fantasy.The Meeting

The Meeting

  When the wolves howled, it chilled her to the bone. As though someone had poured ice water down her back, a shiver ran through her like the shivers in the wind that caused the soft susurration of the gold and red leaves above her head. Again, in the distance, a wolf howled its mournful plea to the evening.
  City elves should not come to the forest. She shook her head to dislodge the thought, her black hair flicking around and catching on tiny needle-like twigs so that it looked as though she was caught in a web of midnight. It was only really a copse, not more than half a mile from the squat buildings on the outskirts. But in the half light of dusk, the trees had ceased to appear as friendly as they had when she had set out – instead they looked like the bony hands of corpses, reaching up out of the dry earth to pull her down, to ensnare her and ensure she never broke free. And they were all around her, their presence oppressive as they crowded around and obscured her path to freedom. Such a small copse should be impossible to become lost in, and yet she had succeeded.
  Another howl, to her left and much closer than the previous ones, made her jump violently. She whipped around to see if the animal was close, but could see nothing through the pressing branches and small, defiant orange shrubs. A howl to her right and she whirled in that direction, hearing a murmur of fallen leaves but seeing nothing.
  Panic. That must be it, she reasoned. They must sense the panic that was engulfing her, that she could imagine emanating from her in waves and spreading out to all corners of the woods. It failed to make her feel more comfortable.
  A howl, to the front this time, and a flash of dirty grey. She could almost hear the heavy panting of ravenous animals, the deep breathing of creatures not used to a fulfilling meal, but expecting one from her nevertheless. A snap – a branch underfoot or a clack of hungry jaws? She turned a full circle, her own breathing becoming heavy with fear, but nothing revealed itself to her wide storm-grey eyes.
  Another rustle, another snap, and her fear became too great for her. With a cry of terror, she broke into a run and fled more deeply into the forest. Behind her came the rustle and patter of fast moving paws on dead leaves and she cried out again wordlessly, a primal scream that recognised impending doom. Trees snagged at her clothing and skin, tearing both, but still she couldn’t bring herself to slow or stop, hearing breathing behind her and imagining it down her neck, imagining teeth ripping into her flesh and tearing it away in bloody chunks.
  In her blind flight, she lost her footing on the piles of leaves and fell heavily to the floor. A snap nearer to her than the mouths of the chasing beasts made her again scream; her ankle had twisted unnaturally beneath her and now lay at a sickening angle to her splayed leg. Tears began to flow down her dirty cheeks, revealing pale skin as they cleaned a path down her face. Another heavy rustle before her made her close her eyes tightly, the sobs now beginning to wrack her body.
  But a light pressure on her head made her start and open her eyes again. Legs, clad in dark green trousers, and atop those a body covered in a ragged pale green T-shirt, right arm outstretched with the hand on her jet black hair. Above that, a tanned male face with a serious expression and brown hair that fell over his eyes. “You shouldn’t be out here.” 
  “Wolves…” was all she was able to say, looking over her shoulder hurriedly.
  “They won’t come near.” But he stared over her head and into the dense woodland.
  She shuddered. “How can you be sure?” Her fear and pain were both evident in her voice, unable to tear her eyes from the trees as if expecting at any moment for them to part and a sea of wolves to flow towards them.
  “He won’t let them come near.” His expression remained fixed, as did his gaze.
  “He?” She tried to get into a more comfortable position but could only whimper as her ankle disagreed with her intention to move.
  “My wolf.” As if satisfied, he nodded to himself and then sat down beside her, a brown hand reaching out to lightly run long fingers over her swollen ankle. She shuddered again. “This is broken, I better take you back.”
  Her eyes widened as she looked up into his face, noting the bright greenness of his eyes and likening them in her head to a tree in springtime. “Wolf…?” Then, “you know the way out of here?”
  He nodded again and got to his feet, then crouched before her. “Put your arms around my neck and hold on tight.” She complied, but before she could ask why, almost as an afterthought, he had scooped her up into his muscled arms.
  A shadow that loped towards her rescuer’s heels made her jump again, her body beginning to tremble as the adrenaline left her system. A long nose angled up towards her, and bright, intelligent black eyes locked onto her own. The wolf whined, its ears perking forwards as if greeting her, and she couldn’t bring herself to feel afraid of it. The man carrying her certainly didn’t appear to be concerned by its presence, but his pace picked up a little as if the animal gave him confidence that he would otherwise be lacking.
  Ten minutes passed before she saw the first signs of civilisation; cottages that lined the approach to the city with smoke curling from the chimneys like grey and translucent dragons and inviting orange glows coming from the windows. Another five passed before they had entered the city proper, country roads giving way to neat grey city streets. The wolf faded into the shadows, and a faint clatter of claws indicated that this was as far as it wanted to travel; it turned back and retraced its steps towards the woodland.
  Without the beast by his side, the man seemed to tense again very slightly, although he remained ever gentle with his charge. “Where do you live?” He paused underneath a yellow street light and met her deep grey eyes with those stunning green ones of his own.
  She felt herself actually flush beneath that intense gaze and prayed to any god that might be listening that the streetlight would hide that telltale redness of the cheeks. “Not far. Just down that road, it’s the first door after you turn right.” She pointed down another well lit street, hoping that those eyes would follow her finger and not remain on her face.
  Her prayers were answered as he looked away, down the road that she had indicated. “An apartment block?”
  “I live on the ground floor.” She felt the flush deepen and thanked whichever god had heard and answered profusely.
  Without another word, he began to walk again. It was only a short journey, and once outside her apartment door he lowered her gently to the ground, checking to make sure that she wouldn’t fall before relinquishing his hold on her entirely. “You’ll go to the hospital first thing tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question; the tone it was said had more in common with an order.
  She nodded, fumbling around in her pocket for her key. “Thank you, so very much…” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t find the words to thank this mysterious man who had quite possibly saved her life that night. “Thank you…”
  For the first time since she had encountered him, a hint of a smile flickered across those tanned, handsome features. “That’s quite all right.” He turned from her and began to walk away again.
  “Wait!” She called out, dropping her key in her haste. He turned and raised both eyebrows, pausing beneath the glow of a light. She carefully lowered herself to her knees and fumbled around, hoping to see the dull brass glint in the dimly lit corridor. Her fingers brushed over it, but before they could close on the metal she felt another set of fingers lightly graze her own. A glance upwards revealed to her that same tanned, handsome face that had only a moment ago been walking away from her. “Why…”
  “Why do your questions always sound so clichéd?” Again that flicker of a smile, as though it was struggling against years of humourlessness to break through. “You can’t just bend down to pick up keys with your ankle.”
  He was right. As she tried to rise again her ankle protested violently, and she cried out in pain and frustration, tears beginning to well up in those sea-grey eyes again.
  Carefully he slid one arm about her waist and with his free hand gently pried the key from her unresisting fingers. “Turn to the right, yeah?” Without waiting for an answer he did it, and was rewarded with a click as the lock turned. He pushed open the door and with great care nearly carried her over the step.
  “The first room on the left…” She whimpered as she tried to put her weight on her ankle, to assist him in some way by actually moving as opposed to hopping, but the pain was too great for that feat to be accomplished.
  Seeing her pain, he again scooped her up into his arms and carried her through the door.
  She nestled against his powerful chest, the blush again spreading like a rash across her cheeks. It was insanity, allowing a total stranger to carry her into her house like this, but it felt so warm, comforting and above all right that she could not bring herself to feel guilty, fearful or ashamed.
  He laid her across her short couch and placed a cushion beneath the affected ankle, and as she moved another cushion into position beneath her head he placed the cream telephone onto the table beside the sofa. “You will ring the hospital tomorrow, won’t you?”
  She nodded and smiled up at him. A wave of sleepiness had slipped over her, most likely the after-effect from her traumatic chase through that copse. “Of course. I can’t do anything on this ankle, can I?”
  He shook his head, although the question had been largely rhetorical. “Well, take care.” He turned and was halfway out of the living room door when she called out, “what’s your name?”
  He turned and surveyed her with those stunning green eyes again, but said nothing.
  Feeling slightly foolish all of a sudden, she added, “my name’s Dew.” When his eyebrows rose, she flushed a deeper shade of pink. “My parents were into the strange name trend.”
  The tall stranger pushed some hair from his face, revealing a hint of pointed ear and making Dew start in surprise. A half-elf? But he was so handsome, a kind of beauty that didn’t quite sit with the humans she knew, or any of the elves. But she realised she should have guessed – his build was larger and stronger than the other elves, but still more slender than that of a human. Finally, a small smile broke across his face like the sun coming from behind an oppressive cloud. “That’s nothing for you to worry about.” And before she could open her mouth to say another word he had vanished, closing the front door carefully behind himself.
  As she clutched a soft cushion to her chest and her eyes fell closed, she couldn’t help but wonder who her mysterious rescuer was. But there was always tomorrow, and she did intend to find out.