The Lost Tribe: Maliha the Wanderer (Book 1)

Running Rivers

5 years ago

Maliha sat on a rock by the riverbank watching the water slosh by, the water churning and rocking as time ticked by in a swaying stroll. She had been by the riverbank for a while.

Waiting and waiting

Time was grinding by, the sun turning a deep orange as it began to fall across the sky. Small twinkling stars glistening on the backdrop of the darkening sky.

The air was getting chilly, and icy frost clinging to her limbs as she watched the water roll. Trickling and trickling in a slow rhythm down the mountain. The light ripples of the moving river were daunting, the dark pools looked bottomless. Like a whirlpool that would suck you in with no escape. The cool black depths of the water began to settle over Maliha's countenance. Turning her optimistic thoughts to ones of abandonment and rejection.

He was late, and Petr was never late.

She tried to maintain positive, tried to believe that he would not do this to her but the longer he took to come the more she began to doubt their relationship. Insecurities niggled in her mind until she was gripping her hands and plucking at her dress.

Whispers in her ear as she heard the murmurs behind hands, relived the cold stares and snarls she received. Her mind became a darker place the longer he took to come, the cold was sleeping in l, drip dripping like the water sloshing down the riverbank.

The longer he took the more alluring the water became, her foot striking out to kick at the flowing liquid. The ripples hypnotising her and setting her into a trance.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting but I was caught up" his voice a cold shard of ice riding the wind.

Petr's greeting was abrupt and emotionless, so unlike him. Petr was kind and selfless, always generous and never angry. This distant person couldn't be her Petr, not the boy she knew. Not the boy who had complimented her darker skin when all the children had skirted away from her. Not the same boy who had cried with her when she had experienced her first ever lashing and not the same boy who had promised her an eternity.

If her Petr had been late he would have never offered her some half-hearted apology and explanation. Her Petr would have seeped her into his arms and clung to her until the ice around her began to thaw and she was nothing but lava in his hands. Her Petr would have peppered kisses along her cheek and nuzzled her neck until she forgave him.

He wouldn't stand feet away from her as if there was a wall between them, he would not be so stoic. So emotionless but still Maliha wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Perhaps he was stressed.

"It's okay Petr, I know how busy you get now that you're a welder" her voice was soft and forgiving as much as she wanted to be as distant as he had been, she couldn't be. She had prepared herself for this inevitable moment. Yet she still found herself reluctant to believe. Her body still yearned to reach out to his, so it couldn't be true. Maybe his job as the new welder of metal was the reason he was late. Maliha was not holding out hope that it was the reason. No. Nia had sunk her claws into him.

"Yes, things have become quite busy for me" his eyes glinted with joy and Maliha couldn't help but gasp for breath. This was the Petr she knew, amused and proud of the littlest things in life. The warmth radiating off of him tempted her to rock forwards, move away from her seat by the ledge and step into him. They stood face to face, breaths mingling they were almost touching but still worlds divide between them.

"Maliha" her name whispered like a weak man's prayer for health, as if she were his reason to go on. His clear green eyes shuttered closed as his thumb stroked along her wide lips and down to her chin. His fingers dipping between the lapel of her fur skin and delving into her top. His scared fingers stroked along her necklace, running over it in a soothing motion and then gliding back up to her face. Tracing the countries of her soft skin.