Running Red

Chapter 18 - The Adventurer and the Deadly

Kinda loving this chapter. Perfect filler chapter for the next action chapter! Be prepared , readers! Great things are in your future!

Dedicated to Smilies for being the coolest fan ever and for also making the fanart on the side. -FlyOn

Leof awoke from a dream about teeth. Large shiny white teeth biting on his neck. He sat up, his muscles tensed and his back rigid. Sweat trickled off his forehead and clung to his hair. He sucked in deep breaths to calm his beating heart.

It was early morning. Leof could only tell because he was able to make out the blue-ish pink hue of the rising sun through the flaps of the tent. The air was cold and he huddled under a pile of blankets. Soon, the sweat on his forehead dried, leaving him feeling sticky.

His mind slowly accepted that he was in no current danger and, gradually, he relaxed. With calming, a repeating barrage of unconnected images from the dream played through his memory. He clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes, trying to erase the dreamed visions of being eaten alive, the wet crunches of his own bones breaking as he died.

With an explosive sigh, Leof threw back the musty blankets and stood up. He pulled on his boots and wished again for something warm to wear, but decided he would make do.

Cold air rushed over him as he left the tent. He was surprised to find himself in a land blanketed in fog. The misty air was so thick he could scarcely see the tent he just walked out of. He shivered lightly and made his steps higher to better trudge through the snow.

It was still very dark. The tents, already cloaked in fog, were just dim white shapes through the whirling vapor. It was very quiet as well. The loudest noise was the Leof’s breathing as he sucked in the sharp morning air. He found himself, in the isolation, in the quiet, strangely at peace.

“Unwise to wander alone in these parts.”

Leof was suddenly not so peaceful. His body was wracked with a violent jump and he spun around, chunks of snow flying.

Cynd chuckled darkly, his shape nothing but a looming shadow. “I apologize. There was no need to frighten you. I only did that for a bit of fun.”

Leof ran his hand through his hair and gave a brief laugh, “No need. It was well played.”

The man-shadow gained some definition as he stepped heavily forward in the snow. Leof could not help but notice that he was barefoot.

“Where are you shoes?” Leof asked, half amused, half shocked.

“I have none. Shoes are hard to come by here,” he said. “Even clothes sometimes become sparse.”

Leof thought on it. “What of animal skins? Can you not reuse them after you. . .” he tried to think of a more polite way to say “kill”, but he did not finish for Cynd’s laugh. He opened his mouth and a deep honest laugh was released into the valley.

 “Do you think,” Cynd asked, a grin in his voice, “anything is left of our kills when we are finished?”

Had it been light out, Cynd may have seen the blood seep out of Leof’s face. As it was, the only sound was the boy as his gulp with the closing of his throat.

“That is something I had not thought of,” Leof admitted.

Cynd chuckled deeply. “Not to worry, though. We save what we can, but shoes become a thing of the past when in this business.”

“Business?” Leof asked. “You consider this all business?”

The shadows of Cynd’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “After a fashion. It certainly is not a game.”