A Quick Nap

He was headed home after a long night of light sleep and long morning of drying shark meat into strips throughout. Baskets bounced against his sides, straps draped over the top of his armor, as he scaled the cliffs, pausing at the top of the falls to cast a last look back toward the coast, glimmering under the sun to the east.

To the west, down the falls, lay the springs, and farther beyond, a long walk home to his duties. Winter was nipping at the heels of Fall, and the fresh jerky would add to the pack’s larder. He’d tried some of the meat and found it to be alright, but he preferred the blood-rich meat from bison.

Breathing in the crisp air he let it out and began picking his way down the trail, Chrysta, perched on his back, swiveling her head, pale eyes watchful, if squinted against the light of the day. Barn Owls were naturally nocturnal, but she bore the dazzling light of day for her friend. Enito brought up the rear, strapped with two more baskets of jerky and using a driftwood stick as a staff to steady himself down the steep trail.

When Cairo spotted the tawny timber head of a wolf poking from one of the outlying pools of the hotsprings, his pace stumbled to a stop, heart leaping with hope. Then he realized the features weren’t right, and the hope sank back, blowing out on a quiet breath as he moved forward again, picking out a path that would take him at a respectful distance from the woman. She seemed comfortable, dozing, and he was unwilling to disturb her on his way through.

Internally, he was kicking himself a bit. It wasn’t Lia. He refused to believe the Armada’s Reaper was dead. Wherever she was, she’d be back, itching for another sparring session or game of tag. Maybe even a bison hunt. Maybe they could share campfire stories with Mortis. She would come back, in time.

But this girl wasn’t her, and Cai was content to leave her be and go on his way.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think