She looks all around her. The bedroom is tidy and spacious, and Fallon rests beside her on the bed, her features calm in deep sleep.
She stands and moves to the window. She pushes aside the cream curtains and warm, roseate light floods in. Fallon moans on the bed and she drops the veil.
Arielle walks to the door and is about to pull it open when a small paper fold catches her eye. It rests at the foot of the door. She leans down and picks it up, unfolds the paper and reads. The handwriting is scroll-worthy, perfect in tiny cursive scribbles. Who the fuck writes like this anymore? She wonders.
It reads;
I am sorry about last night. I have attached directions.
Arielle reads the last part of the note again. Directions? She turns the paper and spots a beautiful depiction of the Cabin, all rooms and kitchen. He must be an Artist or something because the little map looks edited. Immediately, her thoughts veer to the painting on the wall of the living room.
She reads the note again. This time, she imagines his 'honey/coal' voice speaking directly to her. Her hand goes to her neck and she rubs the skin over it as a pink flush creeps over her.
Her hand begins to trail lower and she immediately jerks it away, closing it into a fist. She peers again at the tiny map and heads for the bathroom.
The water is scalding as it runs over her pinkened skin and she sighs at the relief it brings her. The shower curtain slides open and Fallon joins her.
"Morning, Boss." Fallon greets with a sly smile, unfurling her bathrobe.
"Morning!" Arielle replies, willing her eyes to stay high. Why is she so damn hot? It must be the cold weather, she reasons. But she knows, it is the Weather. The Winter, and her awakening She-wolf.
Fallon moves behind her and caresses her shoulders as they stand under the trickling stream, cloudy steam rising from their bodies.
"Are you okay?" Fallon asks.
Arielle hesitates a moment.
"Yeah. Are you?"
Fallon doesn't answer.
After a while, Arielle says,
"What do you say we check on Silver?"
"Silver?" Fallon enquires.
"Yeah! That's what I'm calling him.... Them."
"Alright." Fallon replies, and both women laugh as they exit the bathroom.
~. ~. ~.
THE MORNING COLD stings their faces the moment they step out of the Cabin, and Arielle is glad to have packed winter wears. She was elated to have found their boxes neatly stacked in their medieval-looking room—which was also complete with a 17th-century style fireplace. Frankly, the whole set-up looked like a 'Sword and Sorcery' movie scene.
They descend the steps and Fallon pulls her shawl tighter over her head. Golden sunlight splashes across the treeline in rays to them, and Arielle lifts her hands to the beam—or in this case, her hand gloves.
The snow crumbles as they walk across, towards the only other building in sight. A Stable.
Arielle nearly falls over when she pushes open the door. The stable might as well be another cabin. Long wooden beams demarcate the stalls and she counts a total of six strangely-huge horses—and even the horses stand unsmiling. Just who the fuck is this man?
"Wow!" Fallon exclaims beside her, her hazel eyes shinning in excitement.
She moves to the first stall but Arielle pulls her back. The horse huffs at her and she lets Fallon go. Fallon picks an apple from a cart to the side and slowly lifts it to the horse's mouth. The animal peers at her awhile then clamps its mouth over her hand, drawing the entire fruit into its mouth. It chews away without another glance at Fallon or Arielle.
Arielle walks over and slowly, the two women stroke the animal's chestnut mane.
The sound of heavy boots colliding with hard wood echoes into the stall and both women freeze, ears tuned to the sound.
The huge form of Silver appears at the door, blocking the entire light. His eyes move over them, as if accessing for any injuries and Arielle is instantly flooded with her late night dream of him as a Golden-eyed War General. Her hand moves to her neck but she immediately pulls it down.
Silver is not some strapping medieval knight—okay, he is strapping, and he might have been a knight in a parallel universe. The point is, right now, he is a beautiful male in black denim and gray boots. His real name is not even Silver.
He walks to them, completely unaware of the fireworks in her head, and her hand moves to her neck. This time, it stays there.