getting away {open}

Her first response sparks a smile, but then she's talking about traps. She slips around her branch swinging around to land on one below her. A sense of curiosity surrounds the both of us, for she can't seem to stop staring at me. But from where she's at, I can take in her features, long limbs, heart face, scarred marks of a working life on her arms. These lines in her skin give me a quick sense of respect for her, as I am covered with my own.
Then she asks it. My eyebrow cocks at that inevitable question of what do I want. But even as the question escapes, she starts a hasty scan of the area, the trees so distant from the one we're in. I can't help but notice the way she's searching, as if looking for an escape from a threat. I part the sides of my cloak behind my back, revealing the lack of any sort of uniform. I stand up straight, bracing a hand on the tree trunk.
"I'm not here to hurt you if that's what got you spooked," I say in my calmest voice, "Just curious why someone would be so far out from the lumber yards or mills."
I swing down from my branch, tempting to land on one below me. But as my boots hit the thin wooden extension, its base snapped to send me through down to the branches below it. Impulse and experience drives me as I grab hold of the sides of my cloak and land both legs onto strong branches below. My heart seems to thunder in my chest as stop to check my balance. The sounds of cracking timbers promotes me to jump off the branches and drop back to the ground. I glance back up to the girl, curious of what she might say.

Before I could respond to her, she starts swinging around the tree. And sure enough, just as I fell, so does she. Once, twice, crashing the entire way until she hits the ground hard enough for me to feel it in my feet. It's when she cries "ouch" that I get moving. It's no really the fall that worried me, it's her landing. Her head struck a protruding root and only the heavy mud offered any sort of cushion to her fall, and it wasn't much. I come to her side before crouching down to offer a hand. Instantly, I take notice of the rapid pace in which she's blinking her eyes. The way her head teeters side to side in a searching pattern, there's no doubt that she's lost her orientation. I really can't blame her for getting dazed, but her lack of focus causes a new worry for me. Before she can try and move I calmly tell her, "Stay down. If that fall is as bad as I think, you got a concussion. Just relax and co-operate."
I grab hold of her hand and pull her right out of the mud, it smears most of her backside. I bring her one arm over my shoulder as I scoop up her legs. She's surprisingly light, or maybe I'm getting stronger, who knows. But she needs a bed, so I start toward toward the district city. It's when she comes more to her senses that I state, "That wasn't a very strong tree, shouldn't 've been climbing it. Where is it that you live?"
I keep carrying her along while awaiting her response.

"Okay, I'll set you down. You have troubles, don't keep them to yourself." I stop and kneel down. She seems stable enough, and she sounded strong enough. I release her legs and allow her to gain an unsteady footing, still keeping her arm over my shoulder for balance. If she were to lose footing again, it could do serious damage. Especially if her head got bumped again. But we're both walking, albeit slowly. Her hip must be injured, because I notice that she's limping. As if to regain that shattered pride, she releases my shoulder to go independent of my assistance. I stick close in case she trips or tires out. I know we begin to near the district as the sounds of running saws fill the air, the light fades from the ground. Curious, I bring my head up to the sky. Ferocious black clouds begin to blanket the district. Thundering cracks trail the jagged flashes in the distance. I can hear distance sounds of monsoon crashing down on the trees a stone throw away. I fix my hood and pull my cloak over to cover me better.
"It's gonna rain here in a second, we may want to hurry."

Nomey is her name, something to identify her with now. But the questions drag out, where I'm from and others of that sort. A level of annoyance builds up, but I quell it. She's only curious, and I can't blame her. I can indulge her curiosity a little, but never too much.
"My name's Hilent. How far 'till your home?"
Then, almost as if I dared it, the rain comes in torrent. Lightning cracks divides in the sky, thunder suffocates the patter of the dancing rain. In the monsoon, my hood dips low as the water soaks right through. But water flows smoothly over my cloak. Damn peacekeepers get all the good stuff. I almost miss her voice from the rain but I hear her answering, "We're not far, you can hang out at my place till the rain stops if you want."
Good, hypothermia sets in quick in weather like this. The way I can see my breath is a good indication to find shelter and something warm. But as I follow Nomey, I can see the hairs raise on her neck, the goosebumps rising up in force. I pull my cloak off and throw it over her shoulders, hanging on to my squirrel as I tell her, "That cloak completely stops the rain, wear it 'till we get to a fire."
The rain seems to eat through my sweater because the second my cloak comes off, I'm drenched clean through to the bone. Sighing, I pull off my sweater, it would me more cold than warm at this point. AS soon as the zipper drops, I notice how the scars that cover me have turned purple in the cold. My skin's raised in an army of standing hairs over rows of goosebumps. I stuff the squirrel's tail in my waistline and throw my sweater over my shoulder. I can see a home, windows aglow with a fire's light and smoke pouring from the chimney. I quicken my pace to walk aside Nomey, "That your home?"

In the first few moment I step in, both warmth and cold strike me. Warmth radiating from the stove, cold fear of meeting more than one person. I've met families before, yes, but never long enough for them to get a good look at me or even learn my name. I take back my cloak and keep myself composed as we walk in. I'm neither neither smiling nor frowning, just a calm expression as she makes a quick introduction. At first I see the old man in the chair, I can almost guarantee that he's her father. The younger man with a striking resemblance to Nomey, twin? No, he seems older. Brother? Definitely.
"Keighvan why don't you go see if you have something dry Nomey's friend can wear."
When her father requested that to her brother, I quickly objected, "No thank you. All I need is something to sit on until my clothes dry." But I was too late, her brother was gone. A long sigh escapes me. She says she has another one around here, another what? Sibling? That's a good guess. Still getting a hold of the slang and sayings again, two years on my own took its toll. After her last statement, she asks me if I'm hungry. Indeed I find myself to be, so I give a nod and follow her to the awaiting dining room. It's a cramped room, and I feel out of place without a shirt. Even though it's soaked clean through the layers, I throw my sweater on and do up the zipper. It's warm in here, so it'll be fine once I get past how cold my sweater is. I take a seat at the table as the stew is passed around, and I can almost sense the questions.

I dig into the stew full on, using utensils of course. Their use is drilled into my head from my real and cover parents. But even as I eat I fell Nomey watching me. She doesn't look it, but I feel it. They way she glances non-nonchalantly my way, glancing away when I catch her. She's watching me. Why?
"So," she starts, "You were hunting?.. Up there in the tree farms. I seen the squirrel... I won't tell of course. My brothers hunt sometimes if they get the chance."
My hand instinctively reaches for my waist, grabbing the squirrel.
"I was just walking along, enjoying the sunshine. The squirrel happened to be there." It's the truth really, not much to do if you don't work. Maybe I should get a job, I could stop using up my stash. I decide to counter her, "What were you doing in that rickety old tree with traps?"
At that moment, her brother comes in with clothes and sets them aside before retiring next to the stove. I scoop the last of my stew and set the bowl aside. At the moment, I'm curious of what she has to say.