“I don’t want to get my hopes up here, Ethan, but I think she might forgive me.” Ric motioned me to start.
What he didn’t know was that Roan and I had spent most of our childhood as a couple of brats testing each other’s strength. I wasn’t as strong as him but I knew what would hurt and where. I caught Ethan staring at me and smirked back as I threw all of my strength into one attack. On contact it took a moment for the sensation to sink in before Ric dropped his stance and clutched his arm with a howl. I’d been taught about nerves by my father and, lucky me, I had knuckles sharp enough to catch them dead-on.
“Lesson number two: don’t underestimate me,” I said, patting him gently on the back.
“What was lesson number one?” he almost yelled.
“Don’t try to kill me.” I poked him and passed him by, instead turning my attention on the target they’d been practicing on. Ethan couldn’t stifle his laughter enough for me not to hear it as he moved away, slapping Ric on the arm as he went. He earned another howl and, as much as I tried not to, I couldn’t help but laugh myself.
“I don’t want to alarm you, but I think we may have just made her laugh,” Ethan said mockingly from somewhere behind me.
“Well I’m glad you find my pain funny.”
“Oh, stop being such a baby. That didn’t hurt.”
“It hurt as much as this will-”
I found a perch and looked back just in time to see Ric throwing himself on top of Ethan as they scuffled around the forest floor, tussling over roots, tree stumps and rabbit holes. The large, exposed tree root I sat on to watch them was warm beneath the sun. My attention moved from factor to factor. Behind us the house was just about visible through the forest. Its sturdy stone walls contrasted grey against the great trees pushing against it. Surrounding us was a mass of greenery and old, autumnal colours that had stayed their path through the winter. Red tendrils poked out of the ground like splayed fingers as old leaves from the previous year continued to rot in yellows and browns. Birds chirped and their forms danced in and out of view, some of which I didn’t recognise, but I had yet to see the striking birds from before.
“Alright, alright-” The two collapsed next to each other, spent and out of breath. “Call it a draw?”
“I think that’s best,” Ric groaned, trying to push an uprooted plant back into the soil. “Willow’s been going on about the flowering season for months.”
Ethan laughed at his attempt and I stood, walking back over to the target. Ric joined me as I admired the two arrows buried in the centre ring.
“Is this your handiwork?” I asked.
Ric shook his head. “Ethan’s a far better archer than me.”
“How good is he?” I whispered. My heart just about stopped as an arrow flew between us and hit the central dot with a thud.
“I think my reputation is justified, don’t you?” He shouldered his bow.
I shrugged, casting a glance back at him as he approached. “I’ve seen better.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, quietly smirking, and started pulling out his arrows as I walked back to the starting point with Ric.
Ric picked up a pouch from the knife box. “I take it archery isn’t something you take an interest in?” I asked.
“How could you tell?” He whipped a knife out of its sheath. “Though, I wouldn’t really say I’m good at anything in particular.” In one swift motion he threw it at the same target Ethan stood at. I covered my eyes at the last second and heard the knife embed itself into the board. When I dared to open them again Ric’s knife was sticking out from between Ethan’s thumb and forefinger.
“Such a joker,” Ethan grumbled, freeing the knife.
“Now that was impressive.” I couldn’t really believe he made such a shot.
“That was a fluke,” he laughed nervously. “I’ll never be able to make another one like that in a million years.”
“I can second that. He’s terrible with anything other than his own two hands.” Ethan threw the knife at Ric’s feet and slipped his arrows back into a quiver. Now he had a quiver. “Are you any good with that?” Ethan eyed the lump on my thigh. “I assume that’s not a growth.”
“I’m good enough,” I said, sitting down on the warm root again. “It certainly seemed to intimidate you when we first met.”
“I was more concerned about the dogs you set on me,” he said.
“Oh?” Ric’s voice shone with intrigue. “I’ve not heard this story.”
“It doesn’t sit in my list of favourite stories to tell. You should be more interested in her cross-dressing.” Ethan folded his arms above him and leant back against a tree.
“Oh?” Ric’s attention turned to me.
“It isn’t how it sounds,” I scoffed.
“It’s exactly how it sounds-”
“Wait, the night of the Equinox, is that what the riddle-?”
Ethan shushed him and stood up, still as a sculpture as Ric quickly crouched, his legs set for springing. Ethan waited, listening for a moment longer before he kicked his bow up into his hands. He had an arrow drawn before I could blink and aimed it into the undergrowth beside them. For that moment none of us breathed. Ethan jerked his head to Ric and he nodded swiftly, leaping into the thick foliage to catch whatever it was in an array of grunts and growls.
“What the-?” an unfamiliar voice shouted. “Hey, it’s me, okay? It’s me.”
Ric emerged from the bushes pulling a man with coffee-coloured hair with him. “Oh, Daniel, it’s just you.”
“Isn’t that what I’ve been saying?” Daniel looked exasperatedly at Ric who still clutched him.
“You’re still not as stealthy as you think.” Ric chuckled and released him.
“I wasn’t trying to be stealthy.”
“Welcome back,” Ethan said, lowering his bow. He clapped the man called Daniel on the shoulder. “Have you met our live-in troublemaker yet?” He nodded his head toward me.
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure yet, no,” Daniel said, turning to face me. “It’s nice to meet you.”
His smile was a crooked thing as he held his hand out for me, but I couldn’t move. I came to understand that there was something peculiar about the eyes of people who lived here, but Daniel’s were chilling: one blue as the sky, one red as blood.
“Come now, I’m not that ugly, am I?” Daniel turned to the others who waved their hands with mock uncertainty. “Though, I can’t say I’m a stranger to that reaction.”
I blinked, clearing away the fog in my eyes and came back to myself. “Sorry. I’ve never seen eyes like yours before.”
I laid my hand in his and he brought it to his lips, touching it with the gentlest of kisses. After following our hands up, my gaze lingered on the old scars of teeth marks around his collarbone, the jaws set at different sizes. His face was entirely overshadowed by the impression his eyes gave, but his features weren’t unpleasant. There was something about him that reminded me of someone.
“And you probably won’t again.” He smiled and released me.