The Sisters of Nowhere

t h i r t y - t w o : t r u t h

He lifted an eyebrow. "It seems that I woke up just in time."

Birdie glowered at him. Of course Wyatt would be the one to catch her looking like an idiot.

"Well, I guess that means you're doing a good job," she muttered. "Thanks for checking up on me. Goodnight."

She took a few steps forward, and when Wyatt didn't say anything, she turned back around. "You're not going to try and stop me?"

"Do you want me to?"

"No."

There was silence and the trees behind Birdie rustled. She folded her arms. "Now you're just pulling my leg."

"Why are you going into the forest alone?" Wyatt asked.

"None of your business, rich boy."

"Did you bring a flashlight?"

Birdie's cheeks warmed. "No."

"Lucky thing I did."

Birdie stiffened. "Well what are you still doing over there, then? I don't have all day."

Wyatt swung over the fence, simultaneously clicking on his flashlight before jogging up to stand next to her.

Birdie was secretly relieved to have someone with her. She wished it could've been one of her sisters, but not telling them where she was going was her own fault.

Wyatt danced the flashlight across the edge of the forest. The shadows it cast made it look eerie. Looming.

The pines, to Birdie, seemed just a little too tall. The oaks, too thick.

But nothing came out to attack them, so they went in.

A chill ran down Birdie's spine as soon as she stepped across into Gwydyr and familiar images flashed through her mind.

The screaming faces.

The eyes.

The words, Now is the winter. The winter is here.

Birdie was relieved when the forest didn't force her to see any new things in her mind or put her into some sort of deep trance. But she felt closer to those things; that source that had been trying to communicate with her.

"Are we going anywhere in particular?" Wyatt asked.

"No," Birdie replied truthfully. She wasn't exactly sure what she'd been planning to do here. Talking to a forest seemed silly now that she was inside it. But it made her feel better, like she was doing something.

They walked on through the darkness and Birdie was somewhat pleased that Wyatt seemed a little jumpy.

After a while, Birdie came to a stop and sat down against a tree. She tried to mask her labored breathing, but was sure Wyatt noticed anyway. Ever since her illness, she'd been weaker; unable to run for more than short bursts or work for long hours in the barn.

"I'm sorry for keeping you awake," Birdie said. She realized she should've brought some water.

Wyatt shrugged, picking at the grass beside his feet. "I would've been awake anyway."

"You don't sleep?"

"Not much."

"Since your father died?" Birdie asked, which caught Wyatt by surprise.

He shrugged again. "I barely knew him, so I don't really miss him."

"So you've said," Birdie replied.