Marching: Red Meeting

[Cherny]

The clearing feels cooler with the Red Man gone, the colours not quite as vibrant in his absence, but the taste of berry juice lingers every bit as sweet upon his tongue. At that nudge the boy's hand lifted to rest atop Many-Fights' broad skull, fingers curling to scratch the hound's wrinkled brow.

"He's k-kind. And y-you're a v-very good dog, yes. And a g-good friend. My b-best friend." It'd been a strange meeting, unexpected, but unexpectedly pleasant. He felt better than he had before. Calmer. More comfortable in his skin. "Thank you f-for bringing me."

He looks back the way they'd come, the shadows deepening between the trees, crows flapping above the forest in twos and threes as they returned to their roost. It's getting late, and Cherny and the hound will be lucky to find their way back to the mill before nightfall.

"Let's g-go home."