24. Farren
Farren
I t took us about another day to reach what would be the edge of where the map wanted us to go next. Since our heavy discussion, Roan has been oddly quiet. I was the first to admit I was concerned for my ghostly friend as we dismounted and unpacked our camp for the night.
“I’m going to scout the area and make sure there aren’t any other travelers nearby,” he called as he floated away.
Locke waited until he was sure Roan was out of earshot before commenting, “Is it me, or has he been off lately?”
“Yeah, but maybe he’s just getting homesick?” I really didn’t want to let my worry over Roan seem too obvious.
Locke shrugged as he stepped away to gather wood for the fire. I focused on setting up the tent. The nights were steadily getting cooler faster the further north we went, and with what looked to be rain clouds overhead, I for sure was going to want shelter.
One of the nicer things since Roan had joined us was that Locke was back to being cuddly at night. I mused as I finished putting the stakes down. Of course, the downside was that he’s also being extra cautious about touching me when Roan is in the tent with us . Was I asking too much in hoping that he would eventually make up his mind about what direction he wanted to take our relationship?
I sighed as I hauled our packs inside and unrolled the sleeping bags I’d picked up for Locke and me to share. He calls me his mate, but ever since that morning, it's like he’s been terrified of touching me. I was startled when I woke to find him touching me so... intimately.
Maybe all my time on the run had consequences that had finally caught up with me. Maybe it was time I admitted to myself that I’d spent too long being afraid of losing myself to the curse that I refused to really live.
A commotion outside the tent caught my attention as I finished laying out the bedding. When I peeked out past the canvas flap, I saw Roan had come back and was pestering Locke.
The ghost had grabbed one of the longer sticks and was waving it around like a sword at Locke. I held back a giggle as Locke tried to dodge Roan’s blows as he tried to build a fire without getting stabbed by a stick. However, as soon as he had the wood placed how he wanted, he grabbed what would have been better described as a small branch than a stick.
Armed with his own mock weapon, Locke whirled around and blocked the blow that was aimed at his head. I saw my bear grin evilly as he rose to his impressive height and proceeded to parry a series of strikes Roan had launched at him. Roan, for his part, laughed when he realized he had himself a playmate.
My smile widened as I settled in the safety of the tent to watch the boys’ mock battle. It was very impressive to see how fluidly they both moved and how well their differing fighting styles blended so smoothly.
Roan moved in what I would guess would be a sort of back alley, self-taught sword technique. Locke on the other hand, swung his branch like a war club as easily as he would wield one of his massive paws when in bear form.
Eventually, I had pulled myself from my thoughts enough to realize they were speaking as well as fighting. What I thought was just playful taunts and jabs from Roan were also being returned in kind by Locke. In between those, I heard Locke offering critiques on Roan’s form.
Looks like my boys are finally getting along. I thought as I enjoyed watching them bond from the comfort of my place in the tent.