My face was deathly white as I cradled my arm. I sat on a boulder, heart thudding hard. He could smell my dripping blood, sour, meaning so could predators. Thatcher attempted to cut a bandage as small as necessary. ‘Show me your arm.’

I extended my left forward in silence. It had rip lines similar to spider web designs. Ruby red blood dripped onto the boulder, marking it like a crying face. He dabbed some ointment onto the line, soaking it. Then he carefully poured some of his drinking water on my arm to try and clean it first, washing away the dirt. ‘This ointment will help.’ He informed as he tried to tie the tiny thing around the tiny one.

‘Everything is so terrible right now.’ I admitted voice quiet and squeaky. He stopped with the bandages, his eyes flickering up to her; my face was heavy with pain, eyes wells of sorrow. The air thickened around them, atmosphere heavy and tense like it wished to crush them. I quickly changed the subject. ‘I’ve heard gods don’t bleed.’ I started. ‘Lucky I’d say.’

‘Did you read that, or was it something passed by mouth?’ Hunter asked.

‘My tutors showed me ancient records.’

‘It’s as true as anything else,’ he informed ‘but everything else could also be wrong.’

‘That’s a fancy way of saying ‘don’t trust anything’ like… the water isn’t actually blue.’

‘In some places I’ve seen red shores on black sands.’

‘Truly? You must travel?’

‘A little.’ He struggled at the task to gently tie the bandage around my still extended arm.

‘What is the most beautiful place you’ve been?’

‘The Hogar Mountain. The tallest one. It’s so high up people say you can see the Gods.’

‘Do the Gods live somewhere nice? The view of the world can only be beautiful for so long.’

‘Did your studies not cover it?’

‘That they watch over us, but nothing more.’

‘Well… I’ve heard it’s a like a cosmic kaleidoscope. Utterly beautiful.’

‘That sounds nice. Is the divide between the Gods and planet so definite? Like… the birds can fly.’

‘It’s not like the closer you get to the sky to more divine something is. That said, the dragons are thought to have a deep connection with divinity, especially considering their powers.’

Silence settled around them, making my chest swell and suddenly demanded ‘don’t ever leave me in the woods like that again!’

‘Okay.’

‘Ever!’

‘Never ever! On my oath. I promise.’

I took the bandage from him, ‘let me.’

He began to continue their trek. A wind bustled through the forest, slightly chilling from the coming winter. On his shoulder I moved closer to him still. ‘The city is not far we will have reached it in an hour.’ He informed.

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***

‘I thought the city was close.’ I asked.

‘You said I needed a wash.’

I looked onward, troubled. Thatcher had found a river, clear but not so far down. I quickly averted my eyes on seeing him strip down to shorts. ‘It’s so awfully deep,’ I objected from a tree root. ‘We don’t really have time.’

‘Getting onboard a ship is a lot easier if you don’t smell. I shall not walk into the city smelling of soil.’

‘Is bog water any better?’ I asked myself, which he heard. The water was deep, too. ‘It’s awfully dark, Thatch.’

‘There’s nothing swimming about in there.’ He walked to the riverbank then backed up before diving in with a splash! He chuckled as he trod water, a ring of dirt emitting from him. Swimming on his back he reveled in the feeling of flowing water. With having an unnaturally hot autumn cool water was never understated. ‘Weren’t you complaining about filth, princess?’ Thatcher reminded.

‘I don’t have swimmers.’

‘Jump in with your dress, it’s just as muddied.’ He stated before diving under. A moment later he resurfaced, spitting out an arch of water. His flattened wet hair obstructing his vision and made him look a little silly.

‘… I can’t swim.’

‘You’re not going to learn on land.’ He paddled toward her.

Standing I took off my dress to show my underclothes beneath, very far from clean.

Foot first I recoiled from its chill and after a few failed attempts of getting in the hunter pretended a stretch- only to push me in with one hand. Gasping desperately he swam easily around me, each of his kicks sending a wave to me to struggle against! ‘Feet together, controlled arms like you’re scooping the water toward you…’ I continued to splash violently. ‘You won’t drown, focus now. No not like that you’re splashing yourself in the face. Calm a little, nothing bad will happen to you. Control your breathing.’

Heeding his advice I tried to rein in my panic, slowing my limbs my movements became more elegant and controlled. ‘Well done.’ He swam past me.

I found swimming quite pleasant- once past the near drowning part.

‘Do fae not swim?’

‘Earth fae do not.’

The hunter swam gently near me and tried to splash me, but of course it was too much. ‘Hey!’ I spluttered, and splashed him back, but of course it was too little. Thatcher pretended to be suddenly drowning in an overacted way and sunk beneath the water.

Grunting with effort I swam toward him, and on rising up I was on the top of his head. Before he could grab me I jumped off, like a stone I splashed into the water, a fraction getting on the hunter. ‘Well done, you got me.’ He humored me.

I emerged from the lake spitting an arch of water in victory, yellow curls sagging.