The Hanged Man: Part 7: Beltane
Post #71: In which a new home ...
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“This is it,” said Rose Red. “I thought it would be thicker forest, though. There’s a lot of open space here.”
She and Rowan, in his human shape, stood at the crest of a hill. Behind them grew thick forest, sun dappled and busy with summer sounds and growth. Ahead, the ground sloped gently under a green blanket of grass, seedling trees and wildflowers.
“It looks like a river, down in the valley,” said Rowan, shading his eyes against afternoon sun.
“It’s beautiful, I suppose,” she said doubtfully, “just not what I expected. I didn’t think it would be so…tame.”
He laughed.
“Wild creatures are shy. Perhaps it needs time to get used to you before it reveals itself fully.” His amber eyes met hers steadily and her pulse quickened at the meaning underneath his words.
She looked away. “It’s where Artemis wants me to be, so I’ll love it and guard it as best I can. Will you…do you like it?”
“I do.” He tilted his face up and sniffed. “I smell water, closer than the river. Maybe there’s a spring.”
They walked along the tree line, Rowan following the scent of water. The river wound through the valley below, hidden now and then by the shoulder of a hill, patched with forest. Rowan turned back into the wood and she followed him into a glade enclosed by trees, heavy with the last white blossoms of their flowering. In the glade stood a stone structure, three leaning walls of moss and lichen-covered stones. From the shadow of the roofless walls came the unmistakable fresh scent of water.
“Rowan trees,” said Rose Red, looking around the glade.
“Home,” said Rowan.