Ruby Ash

With emerald leaves swaying in the wind. A young traveller walked her path. The path was worn, dusty and heavily trod. The grass retreated to just under the wooden fence witch stretched far back, the fence had peeling white paint barely staying even with the light breeze. She came to a sudden stop where the path split in two. The fence stopped as a new path began. A signpost stood battered, but regal in between the two paths. Our traveller looked up at the signpost, it was blank. A sudden flash of the sun through a tree after a gust of wind brought her eyes down again, to the dusty path, hand held up to her brow. She hesitated and then slowly shifting her heavy load off her shoulders she sat gently down legs ever so slightly bent. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the fence slowly. She glanced back up at the post, suspicious of the odd power, or confidence that it emanated from just standing firm in the sun, which eluded our young traveller on her way. After inspecting the post that had the same paint-job as the fence enough, she closed her eyes and slid her head back catching the warm sunlight on her face for a long time. She fell deeply into sleep, dreaming of nothing.

"Mmmm," She yawned and stretched out a relaxed smile on her face

A shadow flickered, she quickly blinked away her sleep, a young man was standing over her she saw a bike resting a little way off on the fence she realized she was blocking the way

"I'm sorry for blocking your path-," she hastily shifted herself hugging her legs to her chest pulling her bag closer to the fence, he stood up straight and walked over to his bicycle. What lovely kind eyes she thought waiting for him to just ride past, for them to never meet again, I've never seen such a beautiful honey colour. He didn't move on; he walked back toward the traveller squatted down by her. She could see him clearly now, he had stubble on his weather-worn face, tanned a caramel brown. He looked the same age as her, the traveller estimated. His hair was a muddy brown but just a little too long.

"You hungry traveller?" He said with a deep, intoxicating voice.

Our young traveller just gaped for a moment at his voice and sudden act of kindness. "Really you needn't-,"

"Now, you wouldn't be so rude as to turn down the young princes' offer would you?" he interrupted.

"What prince?" the traveller cocked her head to the side feigning ignorance.

"Me," He said his voice seeping with confidence, honey eyes twinkling.

"And what, pray tell, is a prince doing on a bicycle?" The traveller quite rightly asked.

The prince answered matter-of-factually "Cycling."

The traveller laughed a gentle laugh "Thank you for your offer, kind sir,"

"Sir?" he exclaimed "I'm only of 18 summers! And I told you, I'm a prince, not a 'sir'."

"I can't exactly call you that," the traveller replied incredulously.

"Better than 'Sir'." He huffed.

"I'm not calling you 'prince'," the traveller said with dead eyes.

"Then how about 'Sire'?" he smirked, internally enjoying that name.

She grew exasperated with the banter "Tell me your name, fool. Or that is what I shall call you."

"I'm James, you are?" he lets out a bright, charming smile, not ruffled by her outburst.

"Iris." the traveller said sharply

"I'm sorry, pardon?" James didn't hear her curt admittance

"My name, is Iris," she stated, staring into his eyes, her eyes were the most beautiful, sad, unreal blue.