In Which Raia Learns What Cold Is

February 23, 1164

Raia gradually slowed from a run to a brisk walk. She'd been sprinting for long enough that she felt warm enough by this point to give herself a well-deserved break. Perhaps she would have to stop at Had's house, though; somehow, she didn't think her mother would be too pleased to learn that Willott's friendly, yet rambunctious dog had completely shredded Raia's cloak.

Maybe she could borrow a cloak from Had. It would be a little short for her, but she supposed it would still be better than nothing. If she was lucky, perhaps Had's father would lend her a horse too, so she could get home a little faster; if she was really, really lucky, it would be the chestnut one with the mark that looked like a smiling face on his forehead--

"Forests no safe for Dovans no more, yes?"

She knew that voice.

"You!" Raia exclaimed, catching sight of the boy seated at the base of a nearby tree. God, this was the last thing she needed right now. "Why do you always do that?"

Without turning his head, he shrugged. "What?"

"Just appear out of nowhere like that!"

He didn't answer; from what Raia could judge from his casual manner, however, it was more because he felt it unimportant as opposed to something he didn't know or something he wanted to keep from her. What a silly boy. Shaking her head, she began to trudge toward him. "Aren't you cold?"

The boy cocked his head, as though unsure he had heard correctly. "What is 'cold'?"

...damn. How did one describe 'cold'? "Uh... what winter is. The air in winter, I suppose." It was weak, but it was the best she could do; she hoped he was satisfied.

"You mean... when air is of ice, not fire?"

That was a strange--not to mention, rather grammatically incorrect--way of putting it, but oddly enough, it seemed to work. In its own way, it was almost beautiful--ice in the air. Fire in the air. It was interesting how things a native speaker could not describe could be so aptly and perfectly explained by one who knew so few words. "Yes. Yes, that."

He took a moment to consider, then shook his head. "No bothers. You... cold?"

"Not right now," she assured him. "I was at my grandmother's house, and her friend's dog ate my cloak, so I've been running to keep warm--to keep the fire in the air," she quickly corrected herself in order to suit his poetry.

The strange youth sniffed. "Fire just in Raia-girl; no fire in air now. 'Nyways, you hurry away, yes? Forests no safe for Dovans no more."

Raia scowled. "And why not?"

Again, he didn't respond--this time, his diamond eyes told her that it was not without purpose. However, she was not about to take his silence for an answer; if she truly was in danger, she had the right to know why.

Not wanting to be dismissed as some sort of intellectual inferior who wouldn't understand, Raia hoisted herself onto the origin of the tree's three trunks. With he at his age and she at hers, she knew he would be much taller than she was when and if he chose to stand, and her father had always told her that if one wanted a man to regard him or her, one must be taller than said man--or at least, one must appear to be taller than said man. With this boost, she had gained an additional foot and a half, perhaps even two feet; she doubted the boy could match her in height from the ground.

"Tell me," she insisted.

To her dismay, he ignored her. Frustrated, she tried again. "Tell me! If something's trying to kill me, I should know about it, shouldn't I?"

"I tell you if you say we friends."

Well, that had come from out-of-the-blue.

Regardless, it seemed harmless; he was a nice enough boy, even if he was more than a little odd. "All right. We're friends. Now, tell me what the danger is."

The boy's chin tilted toward the sky; even from behind him, she could see the sparkling of her gem-like eyes. They might as well have been afternoon stars. "See... they... family..."

"Your family?"

He nodded. "They can no leave with Dovans in valley. Dovans leave, they leave; Dovans stay, they kill Dovans, then leave."

It was a simple enough explanation--so simple it was positively lacking. She'd been much more impressed with the idea of ice and fire in the air. "I'll warn my father about the killing part, but other than that... that doesn't make much sense. Where do they want to go? And why can't they go if we stay?" She had more questions than that, but she didn't want to bombard him with more than a couple at once.

Once gain, he took his time before settling on a reply. Then, finally, he muttered, "Make no sense to you. Make no sense to me neither."

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