Focus

The drops were light. He could feel them beating down against the makeshift cover to no avail. Unable to shift the organic mass in any meaningful way. The breeze was doing more of the work. It wasn't quite a howling gale but he felt effectively chilled. The stray drops of water that managed to drip onto his hands and shoulders were frigid. Sinking deep into his coat and soaking his undershirt. And when the wind whipped up once more it was akin to blowing onto a coal. He felt the chill flare up and bite against his skin in a way he couldn't address.

No towels. No heavier coat. No place for cover.

The forest was heavy, but its canopy was thin. Flimsy. The wood was too soaked to mount and climb to find a leaf to nestle under, and wind tossed the drops and filled the air with an endless torrent of cold spears. There was but a single withering leaf between them and total absolute discomfort. And a single half-full lantern between them and a harrowing darkness. 

How he wished he had planned.

If he could have predicted a downpour he would have packed another bottle of oil. Another heavy blanket. And with the darkness encompassing them, with nothing by the distorted shapes of trees surrounding a dimly-lit dirt trail that had no conceivable ending, he longer for a heavier firearm. At least it had some water protection in it's leather sheath. Though with a light in one hand and a cover in the other, he realized any kind of confrontation would turn messy. Anything that interfered with his ability to snap to attention and fire could be potentially fatal. Right?

Maybe it was just nerves.

Claire shouldn't have been there.

She kept a healthy pace, clinging to his side away from the falling rain. They were both damp. In the time it took him to cut a leaf loose they had managed to cover enough of themselves in the chilling droplets. Each wind was light a wet slap in the face with a nasty cold snap that refused to cease lingering. He refused to shiver, since he was too proud to even entertain the thought, but Claire murmured with discomfort. He could see her shaking in the wind. But continuing to tread along with him. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Claire looked up from her feet and snapped to the horizon, her luminous eyes darting across the void around them. Simon kept his gazed fixated ahead, trying to converge the boarders of his vision into some kind of point in space to focus on. A sign a few minutes back pointed to the nearest inn to take shelter in. But they had a ways to go. 

He was slouching a bit. Simon quickly fixed his posture. Tightened his arms. Shrugged off his qualms.

Though his composure seemed to drain when Claire wrapped her arms around his base and huddled against him. Shaking. Murmuring. But still walking. She curled her fingers around the fabric of his jacket and gripped him tightly, pressing a cold cheek to his side and staring into the ground. Watching his soaked work shoes continue to pace through the mud. She tried not to look too far out in the distance. She could swear she saw something move through the dancing leaves.

They walked. Another cold breeze blew past. She huddled against him with all her might, then released when the wind finally died. They both stifled a yawn. 

Simon played with his words a bit, kicking himself for letting her tag along. But he pushed his gut feelings a bit and finally broke the ages-long silence.

"You okay?" He continued to walk, looking down at her horned head, pressed against his dyed fabric.

Claire returned with a subtle nod, shifting her arms and gripping another mass of jacket, trying to squeeze every ounce of warmth out of him. She kept her pace equivalent to his. Little muddied feet refusing to move.

"...here." Simon stopped, Claire continuing to move for a moment before getting pulled back by his immobile center. He examined his lantern for a moment, checking the small glass bottle mounted on the side. He twisted his wrist ever so slightly and watched the fluid shift. The unfettered flow of oil. It shone brilliantly in the flickering light. Like loose honey. It seemed to drift with itself, leaving little behind from whence it came. Efficient.

He took the lantern and slowly lowered it down to Claire, letting the light wash over her. She clung to him, but managed to break herself from his side and look into the dancing flame before her. She blinked, seeming to ease herself away from her death grip on him. Simon brought the lantern in closer.

"...I need both hands." He remarked unevenly.

Claire gently wrapped her fingers around the handle of the lantern, already feeling the warmth of the fire against her shivering form. She brought the swaying device near her face, the gentle glow and comforting heat lighting up her face. She spent but half a moment appreciating the flame, and gently pressed her hand to the glass bulb that incased it.

Finally Claire let out a sigh and smiled upwards to Simon. He returned with a nod. And they continued treading.

"Just keep movin'...." Simon said quietly, staring into the blankness that surrounded them. "Always keep movin'."






Hey guys. There are no boobs or giants in this picture. So. There we go.

Actions speak louder than words and such. And words speak louder than...other words. Depending on the...yeah. So I got a few ideas for how to define character relationships and all that business. And I wanna do that. Bring back Claire and Leona and the Outsider. And start writing for them all. 

Eventually.