His voice sounded tense, his eyes sweeping the forest nearby, looking down at her, then back at the forest and around the clearing that they had to be in. She remembered now the fight, the golden blur that had defeated the gol with ease and the last stroke of the enemy, hurling her towards the fallen warrior. The desperate leap of the golden cat as he caught her in his arms and cushioned her fall to the ground, and the final image of a stone sticking out of the grass rushing towards her face.
She licked her lips. “Mrr…mrr…Mirrsola.” She gasped out, surprised at how difficult it had been.
He looked down at her. “Mirrsola?” he mimicked, his eyes widening slightly. She took note of the golden color, so similar to her own. Eyes that seemed safe.
“Yes.” She whispered. Then her eyes widened. “You saved me!” she blurted.
To her surprise he looked uncomfortable. “Yeah. Well, I couldn’t let those bullies have at you!”
“Why not?” she asked, genuinely curious. That response was outside her frame of reference; on Corsica, if something was happening and it didn’t concern you, then you left as fast as you could. Stay out of trouble and no trouble would come to you.
The man frowned. “It’s the right thing to do.” He said surprisingly forcefully.
He sighed looking up again. “Look, they might be back, can you walk?”
She took stock of herself again before nodding that yes, she could walk.
“Good. I don’t want to be around when these fellows wake up! But first…”
He walked over to the still bodies and began divesting them of their weapons. As he worked she slowly got to her feet and stood swaying for a few minutes. She grimaced when she noticed the iron collar still attached to her neck, but didn’t dare touch it. She knew the laws of her tribe as well as anyone.
“All right.” He said when he came back. He seemed upset. “I couldn’t find the key to that,” he
looked meaningfully at the collar, “But I promise I will remove it as soon as we can find a spot
to work unhindered. Where’s your home?”
She pointed west.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
“Wait.” She said as meekly as she could. “May I ask your name?”
He looked at her funny. “It’s Paul.”
Written by Snore23 on 24 June 2017
To her Village