Ricochet: Traveling Tavern

Vard returned Citrine's sweet smile with a nod an attempt of a small smile. Smiling didn’t come readily, every joy he felt was insult to her and his failing. Even in the glow of the sun his mind was grey and clouded with doubts and dark thoughts. A task would be good for him, to take his mind away from the past and focus it on the now.

He turned and walked in the trail of the little machine’s wake. Such a wondrous little thing. He thought to himself as he watched the little droid glide across the soft, earthen blanket of the forest floor. The air was rich with strong scents of earth and foliage strange to Vard. It was almost dizzying, the cocktail of smells flooding his nose with every breath. Soft pools of golden light filtered through the trees, highlighting the vibrant maze of thick, moss covered trees and lush foliage. The air tasted as strong as it smelled as the light breeze brushed him with gentle fingers. His other formed howled within him, longing to be set free. The familiar rush and heat to his blood roared and flared like a flame. Even the light kiss of the thin shirt trapped the fire under his skin. With a quick tug and shrug of his shoulders he slipped the cloth from his chest and tied the sleeves about his waist.

The cool caress of the breeze soothed the fire in his chest enough for him to focus. His sharp wild green eyes scanned the pools of light for any movement or the glint of the sun on smooth, slick skin. They drifted down amongst the tendrils of bark rooting in and out of the ground like earthen serpents. It was not long before he spotted something, a bright skittering blur of movement far off in the distance. There, on a fallen tree half submerged in a shimmering pool of water sat a newt with a thinly pointed tail, bathing in the sun. Vard lightened his step, silencing the faint crackling of leaves and moss under foot. His approach was slow and cautious. He lowered himself beneath the filtered beams of sunlight, silently stalking, inching his way around the fallen tree.

As he approached the newt’s deep green and brown streaked skin glinted in the warm glow of the sun. It sat poised, still and alert. Vard knew he would have to be quick his movement and timing flawless. He halted his breathing pulling it inward as to not taint the rich forest air with his own. The newt’s head remained pointed away from him scanning the vastness ahead for dangerous unaware of the one looming behind. Vard’s fingers coiled in readiness as he neared his prey.