The Bounty Hunter

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Finred awoke comfortably warm the next morning despite something tickling his jaw; loath to start another day of travelling he tried to roll over when he was brought up short by something next to him. Opening his eyes slowly his bleary mind made out the curve of a cheek upon which lay a fan of sooty lashes, a small nose and a pile of black material from which poked out a small hand, one which lay possessively on his chest. Suddenly Finred’s mind jumped into wakefulness as he realised that the woman who had draped herself all over him was in fact Safita; trying to extricate himself from his companion without waking her he also discovered that she had managed to tangle her legs up with his during the night, making it almost impossible for him to escape. Panicking he searched around on the floor for the strip of cloth which was the only thing stopping her from knowing his true identity; feeling the corner brush his fingertips he sighed in relief and attempted to tie it with one hand; finding this impossible he resolved to do it up once she had woken up and decided to lie down again. Just as he had resigned himself to his position and was beginning to enjoy having her curled around him he felt her shift slightly and moan sleepily. Raising her head slightly she blinked as she examined the white fabric in front of her; unable to resist the opportunity Finred smiled, “Good morning Safita,” he said.

The change was instantaneous; she woke up immediately and leapt off him, skittering into the corner as if she had been burned by his touch. “What- Finred!” she squeaked, her face heating up as she realised what had happened. “What were you doing?” she accused.

“Nothing, I believe our situation arose entirely out of your actions,” he teased, fastening the cloth behind his head as she scowled.

“You scoundrel,” she muttered as she ripped his cloak from around her neck, “here’s your cloak back.”

“Thank you,” he grinned as she tossed it at him. “I’m not ill,” he joked as he fastened it around his neck, “though that’s probably due to your kind efforts in the night.”

“You are despicable,” she hissed. “I thought that I had met the worst men possible but I was wrong.”

“It’s your fault!”

Safita huffed angrily as she watched him adjust his hood and makeshift mask while she nibbled on a piece of salted meat. “Get your pack and let’s go,” she said before ducking out from under the ledge and standing up in the rain.

“Surely you won’t punish me for that? It was your doing and it wasn’t exactly unhelpful,” Finred cried as he followed her.

“I can punish you for however long I want in whatever way I want,” she sniffed as she clambered over a large rock, her feet slipping slightly on the wet moss.

As she marched through the forest, her feet sucked into patches of mud and her balance threatened by the slippery ground, Safita scolded herself over and over again. Even though it had been an unconscious action she was furious at herself for doing it nonetheless and even angrier at herself for the way the short memory of his limbs intertwined with hers made her feel a little lightheaded.

“How long do you think that it will rain for?” Finred asked as they left the little shelter the forest could provide and headed out onto the road where the falling rain blurred everything around them into one indistinguishable mass, washing out every colour and replacing them with a shimmering grey. Finred almost laughed when Safita didn’t reply; he was beginning to realise that remaining silent was her favourite way of reacting when he had displeased her and yet it was also incredibly frustrating because he had no idea what she was thinking as she marched onwards, wading through the water which had gathered overnight thanks to the ceaseless rain. They trudged on wordlessly, each trying to keep their spirits up in their own way, until mid-morning when the road dipped into a small valley through which raged a vicious river, hissing and spitting like a feral animal as it passed them. Safita swore violently and, unable to find anything to throw, stamped her foot in anger.