If I was in a rational sort of mood, I'd say it's a nice day for a walk. The air is only mildly muggy, the bugs aren't out, and there's a nice breeze. The leaves rustle overhead, Sterre remains at my side, and Kas holds my hand (or keeps a hand on my shoulder) while Gloom walks a short distance ahead of us, trying to find the river.
Really, the only thing that brings a smile to my face is the fact that Gloom's wearing one of my skirts. It's belted around his pants, and he wears it so Sterre won't attack him, since I wasn't about to rub my scent all over him like I do Kas. I might have been a little mean and given him the skirt I decorated with tufted red feathers on the hem, so it swishes whenever his tail moves, and gives me a little chuckle.
The day passes pretty fast, despite the fact that we're walking in relative quiet. Kas isn't chatty, and neither am I. Gloom talks to Kas every now and then, but mostly ranges ahead of us, his leery gaze on Sterre. The good news is that I've stopped crying. The bad news is that by the time it gets dark, we haven't found the river. What we did find was another valley full of bug pits, and Kas ended up carrying me for hours until the soil changed and it was safe again.
We don't sleep that night. We take a few breaks, but we continue on walking up until dawn, when we rest on a tree with sprawling roots. I sit atop one and huddle in a blanket while the rain pours down (because of course it does) and Kas and Gloom try to figure out which tree is the best to climb to see which way to go. Sterre moves to my side and begins to lick my arm, grooming me, and I just hug her neck and try not to whine.
This is necessary, I tell myself. We've got to get out of here. I can't have a baby in a tree. We can't stay here forever. Already we're almost out of the old, stale rations left behind by the last guy. The equipment doesn't work. The ceiling drips. There's fungus on everything. There's no easy way down to the ground. No running water.
I'd still stay forever if I could. At least here, I have Kaspar and Sterre. If we leave…I don't know what happens to our little unit. Already we've got Gloom in the mix. It's not his fault that he's kind of a third wheel, but it doesn't mean I'm comfortable around him.
I. just. don't. like. change.
Gloom starts climbing the tree that he and Kas pick out, and Kaspar moves to my side. His smile is bright. Maybe a little too bright. "How's my breathing?"
I immediately slide down off the roots and put my ear to his chest. This is a good reminder, I tell myself, that I'm not the only one in this mess. That Kas is in just as deep as me and worries just as much as me. His worry shows up in the occasional anxious twinge over his lungs, and I've noticed his hand twitching near the pocket of his worn pants, as if desperate to check his now-dead data pad. So I listen to his lungs for a few moments, and then lift my head. "You sound good. All clear."
He lets out a heavy sigh and gives me a wry smile. "You think I'm silly for asking?"
"Not in the slightest." I tilt my face up and study him. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm tired. Gloom's not much help, and I worry I'm dragging you all over the forest for nothing." His smile turns strained. "I worry we're walking into a trap. I worry we won't be able to steal a ship. I worry there's something I'm not thinking of and it's going to bite us in the ass."
"Whoa, where did this guy come from?" I tease, giving his tail a light brush of my fingers to distract him. "Who turned you into Mathiras?"
He laughs, throwing his head back, and my insides flood with warmth that I can make him feel so good. "That was a very Mathiras thing of me to say, wasn't it?" Kas just shakes his head. "This must be how he feels all the time. He's me and I'm…Gloom. And Adiron is, too. Two Glooms." He blinks. "It's a wonder he hasn't run away, screaming."
"You're not that bad. Just a little impulsive." I hold him close, my arms locked around his sweaty waist. He's shirtless, his skin damp thanks to the weather and the exertion, but I don't mind it. I just like touching him. "Has worrying about me knocked all the impulsiveness out of you?"