Foxheart

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Esme blew on the whistle once again, staring at the weedy pond as Absolon whirled about, playing with the lilies. The water lapped gently from the fish and the cool breeze but Willow didn't appear. It seemed Water Spirits were bound to their territories. She huffed a sigh, disappointed. She had hoped to gain answers from him about why she could suddenly use magic and connect with him. She was a Wizard, albeit not a very good one, and had never interacted with a Witch until Sodden started hunting her. It was odd.

Esme stood, brushing down her dress, and stood to gaze down the hill. Lydia and her husband's house stood atop of its own hill, surrounded by a massive vegetable patch and small field with a pair of old dairy cows. She had grown familiar with the sight of the valley. The rolling hills dotted in houses and farms, the waving grass, the constant bleating of sheep and bellowing of cows. Cars would trundle by now and then, breaking the country silence, and a train would belch out smoke in the distance. Esme had found this a good place to recover after Fox's near death and her own near capture. They had lingered too long however.

Since her arrival, Warbler and Mouse had put together a plan to get Fox and Esme over the border. Esme just sat and listened as they poured over maps and contacted other members of their thieving group, figuring out where was safe and what exactly was going on back in Alton. She didn't understand what exactly they were talking about and her mind often wondered to Fox, curious about whether he had finally woken up or if he needed his pillows fluffing, but the plan was formed quickly and it was one she felt comfortable with. The only bad news she had was about Billy. The Fingers had managed to grab him, but not before declaring the Fingers were involved in Esme's escape, and Warbler had sent him punishment for endangering Fox and the Guild. She didn't find out what had happened to him until much later. A few days later and Fox finally woke up, much to her disgruntled delight. She had wanted to fling herself at him the moment she saw him, his green eyes open and his mischievous features alive, but managed to hold back and was filled with embarrassment about her attempt. But now Fox had woken, recovered and been filled in on what their next move was, they would have to leave here soon.

Just as she turned, Esme froze. Coming up the hill was neither Lydia or Warbler, who often came to sit next to her at her favoured spot by the pond. Instead they were smaller and lithe. It was Fox.

Her heart fluttered at the sight but she kept herself calm. It was silly how excited she felt whenever she would visit him in his room, sitting beside him to keep him company without saying a word. It was silly how content she felt and how sudden her attitude towards him changed.

Esme just about managed to keep her face from turning too pink and had straighten herself to her fullest height, trying to retain some kind of pride and not turn into an excited school-girl. Fox was making it difficult the closer he got though. She noticed the fluffiness of his hair, the broadness of his shoulders, the sharpness to his eyes, his appealing mouth. She sucked in the summer air sharply and scolded herself sharply as she quickly averted her eyes. It was rude to gawp at people like that.

He seemed to struggle with the hill, even with a clear path and steps dug into the earth. He was gripping his side and puffing with every step, but Esme wasn't too surprise. It was the longest she had seen him walking since he woke two days ago. Mostly he just moved about the house when Warbler told him it was time to exercise his muscles.

'Fox, you should not push yourself.' Esme reminded him, watching as he collapsed into the wooden garden chair settled beside the pond. Absolon drifted over to him to sing softly in welcome before settled in the grass to play with the blades.

Fox waved his hand dismissively as his chest heaved. 'It's fine.'

Esme frowned. 'You need rest, especially if we are leaving soon.'