~Stranger~I know so well {Shrimpeh}
Jan 30, 2012 22:46:17 GMT -5
Post by Rosetta on Jan 30, 2012 22:46:17 GMT -5
Ariadne
Ariadne might’ve been a child again, discovering the wonders of the forest in the winter for the first time. The way her boots sank into the light snow, the way the trees, weighed down by the white stuff, seemed to create a canopy over her head that the sun, wrapped in gray clouds, couldn’t shine through. Animal tracks criss-crossed this way and that and occasionally, the mysterious black and white world could come alive with the sharp sound of a bird’s voice and she’d catch a scarlet glimpse of the cardinal’s wing. And with a familiar, friendly companion at her side, she felt right at home. Safe.
Safe was a word that had left her vocabulary since that fateful day she’d found herself locked away in a hovercraft, bound, gagged and completely alone. After the horrors she’d faced, she couldn’t even feel safe back in the forest. She was constantly glancing over her shoulder for Peacekeepers and the guilt that hung heavily on her back. Redge had been a fine enough company, yes, but he was nothing like Greg. Greg was her friend. They understood each other, while with Redge, he was merely an acquaintance. She had used to him and she knew it. Just to get to Greg. To ensure she was a bit safer, had a bit more help.
There goes Ariadne again, being selfish. And the fool even knew it herself.
She kept carefully, walking on learned feet that knew where to step in the snow to avoid a lot of noise. The forest around her was living and breathing with snowy-white rabbits, hopping under bushes and singing cardinals. To her right, Ariadne could hear the gurgling stream, the unfrozen water pushing its way through the glossy ice. She motioned with her hand behind her for Greg to follow her.
Since escaping the Capitol, Ariadne had barely had any time to be alone with him. They’d run into a group of rebels. The Uprising, they’d called themselves. They’d been nice enough, but after everything she’d been through, Ariadne found herself a bit reluctant to mess with the Capitol. They were kind back to the Uprising, but respectfully kept their distance. In the flurry of meeting with the rebels, Ariadne lost sight of Redge.
She didn’t want to dwell on it. She just hoped Redge found his way back to his sister. She could feel the sense of love that he felt for her whenever he spoke of her. He loved her a lot. And he was guilty. He’d left her behind and wanted to do all he could to get back to her. Apologize.
Sounds like someone I know, Redge.
“Look,” Ariadne whispered back to Greg, eyes catching sight of a stock still rabbit, just ten feet ahead of her in the snow. Pure white, he was trying desperately to fit in, but against the evergreen bush behind him, he was easy to see. Having lost her javelin when she was captured, Ariadne had had to make do with a stick she’d crudely sharpened with a rock. It wasn’t her best craft, having never been quite good with making things, but she worked with what she had. In her hands, the stick felt familiar, but distant. It had been a while since she’d hunted, having been captured and after her release, much too depressed to even try anything before she met Redge. Now, she found the balance with the stick and leaned back, preparing to throw.
Balance. She’d been taught at a young age by her guardian to always find her balance. In her javelin. In the amount of animals she hunted in one day. In the ice she stood upon, over a river. “You don’t find balance,” she had been told many times, “you’re in trouble.” You don’t balance out the javelin, your throw is off. You kill too many animals in one day, you have too much food and you’ll get sick off of rotting meet. Too little and you don’t eat. You don’t balance out your weight on the ice and you find yourself crashing through into frigid water. You don’t make up with your friend and make sure that he completely and utterly forgives you, you’ll be basing a friendship on mistrust.
Her thoughts were racing and in distraction, Ariadne tossed her make-shift spear, confusion suddenly clouding her eyes. As it soared through the chilled air, Ariadne knew the throw was way off. The rabbit knew it too, but scampered before the stick had even hit the ground, landing a few feet from where it had been idling. With an exasperated sigh that sent puffs into the air, Ariadne dropped her throwing arm and blushed in Greg’s general direction. “Sorry,” she apologized hastily, “haven’t done this in a while.”
As she walked to go up pull the stick from out of the snow, she could feel the weight on her back again. Stop stalling, Ariadne. You didn’t bring me out here to hunt. Ariadne pulled the stick out with a bit more force than she meant to and brushed her short hair from her eyes. As it turns out, cutting it short was a good decision. It was must easier to keep clean. She didn’t have to worry about it being caught in anything or matted. And it was easier to disguise herself as a boy if need be. But, Ariadne was sure she wouldn’t need to disguise herself anytime soon.
Turning slowly, Ariadne gave Greg a small smile. Since rescuing him from the Capitol, she found she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. At night, while they slept, she’d often wake and have to glance towards his sleeping form to reassure herself that he was still there. Then, she’d sink back into horrifying dreams full of silver, sharp scalpels, a tortured boy and a bloody lump of a tongue. Now, she could only stare at his red eyes, pale skin, his lips that would never again form words, drinking it all in. Having taken away his most precious form of communication, Ariadne found she couldn’t speak much in his presence either. She wasn’t sure if this was respectful or disrespectful. Was he glad she isn’t babbling on as usual so that he doesn’t need to or was he annoyed that she was keeping quiet when she had a perfectly functioning tongue?
Either way, Ariadne knew she had to say something eventually. All cried out apologies at the Capitol had been lost in their hassled, anxious escape. Now, in the quiet rustling wilderness, the open air was all for her. Oh, where to begin?
“So, you alright, Greg?” she asked. It was a relief to feel his name on her lips. Many nights she’d spent weeping out the name, fearing the worse. Now, the name was only spoken to him. He was safe. “You know,” she mumbled lightly, leaning against the same tree she’d laid her make-shift spear on, “I was worried for you in the Capitol. They treat you well?” It wasn’t the lightest place to start, an outsider would think, but for Ariadne, it was as far up on the surface as she could be. Because, she feared what lay, simmering, below the ice.[/size][/blockquote]
