Lost & Found

5: Water

                The huntress refilled her waterskin and left him to drink his fill. She found a small rock outcropping in the ridge that ran alongside the stream, hidden behind some bushes. It was barely a cave, but the rock would help reflect the heat of a fire back into the space. She dug out a decent sized pit in the center of the space, and piled wood into it. With him splashing around in the water, she had to pull out her own dagger to strike for a spark to start the fire this time.

As soon as the bundle of dry leaves was able to set fire to small twigs, she hid the blade along her forearm and tied the linen cuff back in place. The larger pieces of wood were starting to catch when he finally came trudging up from the water. He was soaking wet from head to toe, only the cloak he held in his hand was still dry.

He'd washed a fair amount of the dirt from his face and hair and she tried to get a better look at him without staring. His hair dangled in dark loose curls around his face. His beard was too thick to fully see the shape of his chin or the curl of his lips, but his eyes shone like bright gems. They were almost turquoise in color. And his cheeks had more color than she'd seen on him the past few days, a sign of his returning strength hopefully and not a fever.

Leaving her bag behind, to show him that she wasn't abandoning him, she left with her bow to find more food for the two of them. After walking beyond the bushes she turned to make sure he'd stayed behind, and caught a glimpse of rippling cords of muscle along his back and arms as he took off his wet shirt to wring the water out of it. It would probably be best to stay out of his reach as his strength returned to him.

Down by the water, she followed the current upstream. She'd need to put distance between their camp and herself if she hoped to catch anything with the amount of noise he made. It was a wonder that he hadn't attracted dire wolves or mountain lions and become a meal himself.

There were plenty of game trails leading down to the water, that she could have followed, but anything large would be a waste. She had no desire to stay in one spot for too long and she wasn't equipped to carry an excess of meat with them. It would only weigh them down anyway.

The splashing in a tide pool caught her attention. If there were fish that were large enough she could easily spear them with an arrow. Depending on how many she could catch, fish were easy to cure to keep for a day or two.

She had to unlace her boots and her pants up to the knee in order to wade into the cool, clear water. He must have gained back more strength than she'd realized if the icy temperature of the water hadn't sent him into violent shivers. On the bright side, the cold water made the fish move slowly and easy to spear.

She quickly had 5 fat brown trout threaded onto an arrow. She could've grabbed more from the water, but the others weren't very big. Not wanting to shove her wet feet into leather boots, she tucked them under her arm and walked back barefooted.

Stepping through the bushes, she choked back a startled gasp. He'd taken her absence as an excuse to better wash the dirt and grime from himself and his clothes. The wet scraps of clothing were laid out atop the bushes, and he was sitting nude on her cloak beside the fire.

When he realized he was no longer alone, he scrambled to wrap the cloak around him, cursing when it got stuck beneath him as he sat. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. His profanity was creative and watching him pull his legs out from under himself had been comical.

Holding the cloak tightly around him with one hand, he held out his free hand, offering to take the fish from her. "I didn't know how long you'd be gone," he reverted back to common, "you must think I'm completely helpless." He blushed, "of course, finding me lost and passed out in the forest probably wasn't the best first impression."

She just huffed in agreement, trying not to laugh or stare at the gaps in the cloak as he held it around him. She'd definitely need to stay out of his reach. Sitting on the other side of the fire, she set out to gut the fish and stake them with long sticks pulled from nearby trees. He followed her lead, preparing two of the fish himself.

They each ate one fish. She filleted and wrapped the three extra fish in scraps torn from his ruined cloak. He'd opened his mouth to protest at first, but then seemed to think better of it. It'd already been torn to ribbons anyhow.

Since he'd left them lying around, she might as well try to make them more functional. She gathered up his half dry clothes and rummaged through her pack for the small kit she carried, to stitch wounds closed. Tearing more scraps off the cloak to use as patches, she starting to mend his clothes.

He quietly took his pants from her when she held them out to him. She kept her eyes on the shirt in her hands as he tried to maneuver the cloak around him while he slipped the patched garment on. Curling around the fire and watching her while she worked his eyes slid shut. She tucked the shirt gently under his head when she finished with it.

Wiggling her still bare toes toward the fire, she rubbed the dried mud from her feet. It was relaxing, listening to his rhythmic snores and the random crackling of the fire. If this hadn't been as difficult as teaching children to hunt, it almost would've been enjoyable.

She could feel the paint on her face and hair starting to flake off as she sat there in the warmth of their little cave. Rubbing more dried mud from her feet she decided to head down to the water to wash while he was soundly asleep.

She unlaced her leathers, dropping them out of the water's reach. The cold crisp air prickled against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Standing there in just her linen lining clothes, she closed her eyes and let her body adjust to the coolness of the night air. Bracing herself, she stepped into the frigid water, letting it wash over her feet as she waded into the center of the stream. It was almost knee deep; she lowered herself down to kneel and began to work the dirt from her skin. She had to practically lie down in the water to wash the paint from her hair and face.

Clean and shivering, she had to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering, but she immerged from the water and gathered the discarded leathers. She waited just out of eyesight long enough to listen to his breathing before slipping back into the alcove and letting the delicious warmth it held wash over her. She should've taken her pack down to the water with her. Now she'd have to risk the chance of him waking up to get to it.

Sneaking as quietly as she could, and quickly, she moved to where her bag sat and dug out the small tin again. She sat beside the fire, taking care to turn her back towards him, while she worked her hair into a tight braid. The black grease darkened her hair gliding easily onto the wet strands of hair. She only hesitated for a moment to apply it to her face. The heat of the fire could make it dry and flake again. He stirred in his sleep, hastening her resolve.

Shesat watching the fire, and listening to his breathing while she waited for herunderclothes to dry on her skin. It'd been ill advised to take a midnight bathwhile she was still in his company. She'd convinced herself it would be fine,simply because she'd felt the need to freshen up because he'd taken the time towash himself. As soon as she was dry enough she slid back into her leathers,lacing them up tight and slipping her boots back over her feet. She renewed thewood in the pit, then propped herself up against the wall to sleep, sittingwith her bow ready, in her lap.