The Unknown Realm #4 (Waverly Stump and The 7 Realms)

XXIII

The distant sound of small ocean waves rolling in over rocks that were scattered about the edge of the forest and the twittering of birds in the trees made it difficult for Waverly to listen. She had her hunting cloak pulled over her head to prevent another snowcap. Her left leg was uncomfortably planted atop a jagged rock, its bottom constantly caressed by water from the flowing stream below, and her hands were pressed against a snow covered rock as tall as her chest.

At intervals, she would duck low behind the rock to keep from sight whenever vegetation ahead ruffled in the slightest but many times it had been nothing but the wind. The snowfall did not let up and had lasted the whole night. The sky took up dark shades of blue and grey and Waverly could only see it because of the fast drifting clouds. Day was slowly breaking but she was barely able to tell because of the weather.

A tremble occasionally coursed through her insides and cold mist escaped her lips with every breath as she waited for Chestnut to return. She had sent him off to retrieve hers and Judson's belongings from Vanita's castle and he had been at it for more than two hours. The idea that the unlikeable goddess would catch and trap her wolf made her worry but it also came as a comfort that godly animals were forbidden to be held in the possession of a god who did not own it. Even if Chestnut was spotted, Vanita would have no right to keep him - but, that did not wholly mean she would refrain from stopping him. It had been established through recent previous events that, for the first time, Waverly was now sworn enemies with an Entonian. Even before they met, she harbored a great disliking for all that the goddess represented.

Do not speak ill of a deity. Selene warned once long ago but Waverly strongly believed that the instruction did not matter when it came to Vanita. The goddess was simply the most unpleasant of them all and Waverly had only met a decent quarter of the gods. She thought she would have preferred being stuck in the In Between with Edsel than having to ever stumble across Vanita's castle.

The strain on her body from maintaining an uncomfortable position for long began to make Waverly tire out. She gritted her teeth in annoyance and opted to go after Chestnut but also considered that if she did, Judson would be worried. In fact, he was probably already worried that she was yet to return after two hours. She looked behind at the forest where a trail of white covered the rough path. Tree branches collected heaps of snow and would occasionally bend from the weight of it, allowing snow slide to the ground. The underbrush at the feet of these trees were buried completely because of this. Not too far off where a small visible clearing was surrounded by stour trees, Waverly could clearly pinpoint the spot she stood in when Judson had kissed her. She did not regard the kiss as her first because he had done it before - whilst she was partly unconscious - but the thought made her flush with embarrassment and yet, a stupid grin broke across her face. She initially suspected that he would refuse after she asked given how shy he was but then again, Judson had always been full of surprises.

Whether it was because of the kiss or something else she was not certain of, thinking of him now made a thousand butterflies come alive in her stomach. Within the last few hours she spent with him before leaving, she grew conscious of how much she took note of his mannerisms and more; the slow but smooth drag of his feet when he walked, the cautious way he glanced up whenever snow dropped onto his nose or a bird flew overhead, the stray curls that always found their way to the front of his ears, the lovely redness in his cheeks and nose, the way the tone of his voice changed according to what he felt and the delicate manner with which he picked things from the ground. Everything he did held a kind sort of gentleness to it and although she had noticed long before, Waverly now paid an even closer attention.

After they had strolled further into the forest without a destination in mind, they decided to take shelter underneath a tree. Whether he had been telling her that it was cypress or a kind of oak, she could not remember, but she did recall him lifting her hand from the tree root to allow a wispy black and white insect crawl past. When she inquired why he did not kill it instead, he told her that the creature was amongst the last of its kind and was very rare.