Under The Sea

Chapter Forty Six

I just really love the gif above . . .

It was at this moment that I discovered I was a swimmer, and not a runner. My breath came out in short, ragged pants as I pressed my palms into my thighs, trying to catch the breath I had lost running ten laps around the house.

James was on his way and he had sent Jacin, who had gone to train early this morning as he always did, with word that I should be warmed up before he arrives. I planned to totally disregard James' request and act like I had just run ten laps, but apparently Jacin had also been sent to monitor me.

Aran was off preparing the guards for a potential surprise attack, and informing the pack about the date of my introduction, which was to be in about a week, after preparations for an attack were triple checked.

Caleb, I assumed, was mingling with his new pack members. He wasn't anywhere in the house when I had woken up that morning.

"You're not faking all that panting are you? Cause if you are . . . Jacin is toast."

Jacin scowled from where he sat against a tree, drinking water.

"Do I look like I'm faking it?"

James shrugged. "Never judge a book by its cover."

"Can we just get started, and finished?" I groaned, nearly regretting my request to restart my training.

"Well someone's eager." He smirked, but the smugness never reached his eyes, and I wondered how he was doing. The last time I had seen him he'd been stomping off after getting into a fight with Oscar the Prick. One could argue I didn't know Oscar well enough to call him a prick, but the things I'd heard about him were prickish. And his first impression on me wasn't the best.

James didn't seem like the type of guy to be easily wounded, but what Oscar said must have really hit him where it hurt. Perhaps on a still healing wound. I was eager for a back story, but I didn't want to pry. I just wanted him to know that I was there for him, if he ever needed me.

I got into a fighting stance and cleared everything from my head. We started off throwing punches, then blocking. Soon, James was teaching me how to get out of a head lock.

"No, no, you can't just slide right out. It's likely your opponent will be aware of what you're trying to do, so you have to be fast. Turn your head into the crook of my arm, and try to make space to slip out." James said as he tightened his hold on me.

I brought my hands to his arm, and tried to pry it off of me. Three more tries later and I was slipping out of his hold, just barely.

James nodded with the ghost of a smile on his face. "That was good. Let's do some sparring."

Five minutes later my back was being slammed to the ground and James had his hands around my neck and a stupid smug smile coating his lips. Five minutes.

I sighed. Perhaps fighting wasn't my strongest talent. I lay on sprawled on the floor for a moment, trying to ease my frustration by focusing on something other than my aching back and my long awkward body that had to be the reason for my humiliating failure.

The grass was soft beneath my body. Like the earth itself were trying to offer me some security. I turned my head in the direction the wind blew, wishing I could float away with it, fly to wherever I wished to go. The trees surrounding the house looked like tall, stone faced guards; their wrangled branches like strong muscular arms, and their leaves a disguise.

I wondered about the lives the leaves lived. Were they humored by our lives? Did they mock us from their hanging sanctuary above? Were they enjoying their lives in their trees, their only problem being the velocity of the wind and the pounding of the rain?