Desperado

He frightens her because he fascinates her. This man is like nothing she has ever laid eyes on before. His skin is paler than hers. His hair is a shade of brown that she's never seen on a human being. His eyes are a blue that is a mix between the depths of the sea and the midnight sky. His clothes have far too many layers to be comfortable. He talks with broken words that often make no sense to her. He moves in a way that seems clumsy to her; his footing is not sure at all when he walks on the woodland pathways.

She's shared a short time with him, before this. She walked him from her village back to his people's growing fort. He talked to her and she had hardly responded - at first. She hadn't known what to say to him, and the honest truth was she hadn't wanted to say anything to him. He was invading her land and wasting her, and her people's, precious time. He had no right to hear the voice that could form her thoughts.

However, this man had a charm to him. A charm that rendered her helpless, like a serpent swaying entranced to the alluring melody that was laced to every word the man spoke. She found herself replying with single words or the slightest movement of her head. And soon enough that charm turned her quick and short replies into drawn out and long streams of words.

During their brief time together, he said things that made her smile and laugh. He said things that no man had ever said to her before. He was so honest and blunt, she believed that he - what was the term? - wore his heart on his sleeve. That frightened her. The way he acted made her want to act the same; she would have liked to have that kind of freedom. This man was making her lose herself and she didn't like it. She should have been relieved when they arrived at the fort's gates and were forced to part but there was a curiosity that made her linger for a little while.

She was surprised to see him again. It was almost dusk when he left the safety of his people's fort to wander about the woods. She followed him at a safe distance until he stopped at the shore of the river. She waited a few minutes before stepping out of the shadows and making her presence known.

“I was pretty sure I was being followed,” he said to her. “And I had a hunch it was you. Glad it was.”

She said nothing in response to that. He shrugged and motioned for her to sit before he sat himself down on the cool ground. She hesitated but once she gave in she sat a bit of a distance away from him.

Now she watches him watching the moonlight's reflection in the ripples of the river. She wonders what he sees. Does he merely see light reflected on water? Or can he see the beauty that lies within? He will never tell her because she will never ask, but she hopes to, one day, see the answer silently reflected in his eyes.

He stretches his arms and lays back on the cooled dirt with a groan. She thinks the sound is uncouth; there is a time and place to make such sounds and now is neither the place or time. He looks at her and grins a stupid grin, she sighs and faces forward.

She has barely known this man for more than forty-eight hours but she can tell he's not like the others that came with him on tame horses meant to be wild. He is carefree, and often careless. He has a respect for the things - and people - around him the others do not. He is kind and gentle, although she has seen him rough and temperamental. The man is an enigma and she knows she should not pry, but he is a dangerous mystery she wants to solve.

-End