In the still of the night

We left before the break of day the next morning. There was no need for hurry so our pace lazed its way across the Turian Prairie. My mate is a man of few words more often than not and I tease him about talking so much I cant get a word in edgewise. It is generally the other way around but today there was a quiet between both of us.

The scenery would have been a blur of tans and browns if we were rapt in conversations but so much of the evidence of the change of season was there on all sides. I was savoring it, though the light crease on Ramza’s brow said he was thinking hard about something.

When he turned in the saddle to look behind him, I knew we not alone. I’ve been among the tribe long enough to know not to make any sudden gestures or call attention by behaving like a frightened female. I pulled my boot up from the stirrup to rest it over the pommel of the saddle. I had my dagger was within easy reach now and of course, my quivas were always close. Essentially, I looked very relaxed languidly stretched back on my mount.

The fire that night was built low and the kettle of stew simmered inside the coals. The glow cast shadows only near the ground but left the light of the moons to back wash the area we set camp in. After a hearty bowl the days ride was wearing on both of us and we rolled out our blankets ready to curl up for the night. When Ramza stepped away into the shadows, I noticed he had taken his bota with him. In the still of the night one could hear the sound of water splashing the ground.

Something traversed the line of the perimeter that made me sit up to take more notice. I had no idea at the time that it would be the second in command of the Kassar. I had never met the mighty giant before but a whisper inside my head spoke of a fate yet to come. A chill raced across my skin as his shadow began to take shape. As quickly as it emerged, it faded back where it had come and I held tight to my belief that we make our own destiny rather than allow the sky to decide that for us.

Silence echoed around my mate when he returned. Hurriedly I told of him about the shape in the darkness. He merely laughed as he slid beneath the blankets next to me. It made me laugh too though mine had a bit more apprehension to it, I think. It is natural for me to press against his back and drape my hand over his chest, though tonight, his tunic was warm and wet. I splayed my fingers across it … feeling for the flinch that said he was injured. He merely touched his palm to the back of mine.

This time when I rolled my back to him, it was not to keep a distance between us. As long as I felt the tension in the cords of his back, I allowed my eyes to close. When he felt the shift of body against his when I stirred, I would hear the even sounds of his breath. It was how we spent this night. He had my back … I had his.