Rubus and Clyde stood in waiting and kept a sharp focus out across the plain, into the distance and the later light of late spring, examining the terrain as both did according to their abilities and ready to move on Clyde’s mark. It came after a long pause and was little more than a nod in Rubus’ general direction, but they had been on general terms for years and Rubus began to take three items from deep within an inner pocket of his tall jacket; a beeswax candle, a small circle of polished slate, and a hedgehog, living but slumbered. As Rubus held these things Clyde turned from the whisping grasses of the plain and looked at him before approaching and beckoning the pair to sit opposite each other upon the grass. Sophia joined them at a slight distance, only for Clyde to usher her close, while Rubus pressed a patch of grass down and placed the slate upon it. Sophia saw then that as Rubus placed the candle onto the slate the wax melted at its base, securing the candle of its own accord. Her next breath came deeply, compelling her further into a night ready and restless.

She saw Rubus take a blade from another piece of his jacket and hand it to Clyde, the hedgehog in his other grasp. Clyde took the knife and Rubus placed the animal onto the slate before a fraction later Clyde had opened the creature from the throat down, a single incision that had ended before its effect could be felt. The life of the hedgehog spilled over the slate and Sophia saw the candle flush with sudden flame, Clyde following in old tongue, hands open, the bloodied knife in his right. It came upon Sophia then that all surrounding light was being called into the flame, quietly at first, as if not for attention, but then on and deeper as the tones of Clyde’s words became calls magnified about the mountainside. In her eyes she saw the figures of those men she had recently met, but within her, she saw the coming of light as melodic graduations which were themselves drawn into the candle. She remained with this throughout Clyde’s prayer, which after a time began to pass back and forth between Clyde and Rubus, her focus piqued as Rubus took several large bullets from his right lower pocket and let them fall into Clyde’s hands, whose eyes were closed as he turned them over before taking each one to the flame.

‘For this only,’ he said in modern tongue over each bullet that it might be understood by the company present, and then handed each back. Sophia saw Rubus lay each to his right side and then she looked over the hedgehog, opened, spilt and hardened beyond animation; it thickened and flickered with the light of the candle, which appeared to have been burning for some time and was now beginning to consume the hedgehog. Not just at its spines, but taking the whole thing as the flame shone down, quicker by each flicker as she felt the sensation; her heart bronzed and the hedgehog was consumed before the candle burned out. She stared above her and lights opened out in every direction. There was a brisk wind and she took a sharp breath before Rubus carefully returned the sticky slate to his pocket and stood quietly to draw his rifle, leaning to collect the blessed rounds and placing them into a cartridge which he loaded with a slap into the night. He slid the bolt as Sophia and Clyde returned to their feet and all three then looked out over the rich grasses, almost silver under clear canopies of starlight, each to their own waiting in participation amongst the sounds and silence of night. The trees began to murmur once more, echoing sentiments down the mountainside that a fresh attempt for their satisfaction was coming.

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Clyde took some steps ahead and sounded a single low call. He continued walking with open palms and Sophia glanced to Rubus that they should follow only for Rubus to hold up a hand that they must remain. He delved into a pocket and retrieved a telescope for his rifle.

‘He’ll signal if he wants us,’ he said and began quickly fixing the module to the gun while resting it on his other arm. Sophia watched Clyde open the gap between them, his calls continuing to envelop all.

‘You think he is going to go far?’ she asked.

‘Not easy to predict,’ he answered and raised the rifle to his shoulder, adjusting the telescope until he had a clear fix on the space ahead of Clyde, the plain still long ahead of them all, its spirit stirred and appearing to amplify Clyde who felt it’s warmth through the soles of his boots and the grasses as they brushed him. His eyes were holding ahead and his voice was everywhere. Onward and alone he went, until his feet stopped. Rubus noted it and planted his own feet as his finger touched against the trigger. He went still and the pair of them waited.

Then Clyde’s hands went up and he bellowed a final passage of sound into the woodland. The trees fell silent.