Creative Thursday

Hi, guys!
*gasps* I'm actually doing a Creative Thursday... on a Thursday. I know. I've shocked myself!
Today, I am going to be taking part in the amazing Celia's Story Within A Picture writing challenge. Please go check out her blog Crazy. Crazy. Crazy. because it is wonderful and awesome and I love it ^.^ So yeah. Go check it out here or here or here. Or here. If you're wondering what the writing challenge is, click here to read Celia's post about it (this is a great idea, by the way Celia. I love it!)

I wuv this photo >.<

"We'll rest here." He dropped his old, worn satchel down in between the roots of a gnarled tree. Grace gazed around her. They had stopped near the edge of the forest, where the trees began to thin. The leaves were just beginning to brown and a crisp layer of them covered the grass, bright red and gold in the dying light. The sky was just visible through the tops of the trees, a dark grey as the night drew in. As the trees stopped, sand and pebbles began, the blue-grey sea like liquid mirror, lapping at the shore. She walked towards the little cove, the smell of salt and the sound of the waves drawing her in, an invisible rope around her waist and an invisible something pulling her towards the water.

She heard him stutter behind her as she walked forward, her worn boots catching on hidden branches and stones. Who was he, anyway? He had half dragged her through this forest, not telling her anything, not even his name, and expected her to be calm, not to ask questions, to rest with him as her guard. He expected her to trust him. She reached the cove and breathed in the salty air. Grace heard him stumbling behind her, cursing as he tripped over tree roots. She smirked and continued forward, toward the waves.

She reached the edge of the sea, shuffling a little further in so that the little waves covered her boots, lapping against the scuffed leather. Grace could feel him close behind her and wished he was gone so that she could go swimming. She wanted to feel the cool water against her skin, her wet hair tickling her neck and her bare toes skimming the murky bottom. She wanted the salty water to wash away everything that had happened these past few days, to hold her in an embrace and let her go with a clean slate, the last three days gone. She closed her eyes, imagining, for one second, that it were possible. She would dive down under the water and when she surfaced, she would be in the pool, Jess sitting on the edge, feet dangling in the water, towel on her lap, laughing as she was splashed.

"Grace."

She opened her eyes. She hated the way he said her name in that strange, lilting voice, like it was music. He put his hand on her shoulder, his touch like a feather. She let his hand linger there for a second longer than she knew was reasonable for strangers, then brushed it off.

"We can rest here, if you'd like?" His words were gentle caring even. Grace had always been terrible at hiding her feelings - her sadness and longing was probably written all over her face.

She tried to speak but choked on her words. Instead, she nodded slowly. She heard him place his satchel down on the ground and walk back into the forest. Grace flinched as something wet touched her lip. She hadn't realised she was crying. She tasted salt as she licked away the tear, pulling her jumper's sleeves over her hands to wipe her cheeks before turning around.
She cleared her throat, "What do you want me to do?"

He glanced back at her briefly, then turned back into the forest. She sat down on a log, playing with a frayed piece of wool on her jumper.
When he returned, he had a pile of wood in his arms. He dumped it on the beach, bringing a box of matches out of his jacket pocket. His black hair was slightly ruffled, as if he'd been running his hands through it. He dropped a lit match onto the pile of wood, stuffing the box back into his pocket as a warm red glow lit up the tiny beach.
Grace shifted nearer the fire, holding her stiff fingers out to the flames. He started looking through his satchel, until finally he brought out a small axe. Holding it near the blade, he held the handle out to her.
"Take it. If they find us, you need a weapon. In case we can't run."
She hesitated, before grasping the thick wooden handle. The axe was heavy in her hand, but felt good.
Normal, even.

Grace cleared her throat again. "So, who are they?"

He ran his dirty hands through his hair, pulling at strands of it, "I told you, I can't tell you that."
She could feel the rage begin to burn. "I have a right to know! I've been pulled away from my life to run from them but I don't know who they are or why I'm running and I don't know who you are either!"
He looked up at her then, his grey eyes like the churning sea behind her, "You really don't remember, do you?" He looked sad, despair and sorrow in his eyes and something else. Something Grace couldn't pin down.
She calmed herself, taking deep breaths, before asking, "Can you at least tell me your name?"
He looked into the fire, lost in some other place. Finally he spoke, softly saying, "Just call me Crow."
Grace opened her mouth, about to speak, asking for his real name, when Crow looked up at her with such sadness she shut her mouth.
An awkward silence fell over them, stifling their words. She decided to end it first. "I'm going to get some rest," She stood up, moving around the log towards the edge of the forest, where a pile of leaves had collected. She gripped the axe hard in her hand, feeling the heavy weight and the smooth wood, a comfort, something to hold on to as her world dropped out from beneath her. As she was walking away, she heard the soft words "Sleep tight, Gracie."

Thanks for reading ♥