Chapter 82: A Tiny Problem
Panic surged through Eirin. If the bounty hunters realized who Shade was, and saw him in this state, helpless and shrunken... she didn’t dare imagine. Eirin ran, not knowing where she was going, just away.
Her lungs burned, her knees threatened to buckle, but Eirin pushed on. Every ragged breath was a testament to her desperate flight. There was no one else; she was their only protection against whatever dangers lurked in this treacherous landscape.
’But where do I go?’
Just as her legs threatened to give out, Eirin spotted a small cabin, a dark shape against the driving rain, not far from where she stood.
"I swear! I saw someone!"
The voices pushed Eirin forward. She ran towards the tattered and shabby cabin in the middle of the woods. The door looked ready to crumble with a single touch, but miraculously, it held, offering Eirin and Shade a desperate sanctuary.
Eirin gently settled Shade on the dusty ground, then scanned the cabin’s interior. It was as dilapidated inside as it looked from outside. Peeling wood, cobweb-draped corners, and the faint scent of damp rot. Eirin began nervously biting her fingernails. Her mind spun, utterly lost. As a ballerina, her skills lay in grace and precision, not wilderness survival or conjuring fire.
"There’s a fireplace," she mumbled to herself, her voice thin. "But how am I going to create fire?" She started collecting the sparse firewood near the hearth. A faint crackle, then a hesitant flicker of orange light, drew Eirin’s gaze. She whirled around to see Shade, propped against the cold stone, his eyes half-lidded, chest heaving. A tiny, struggling flame danced in the hearth, clearly his doing – a final act of will to bring warmth to their cold shelter.
A bitter wave of self-recrimination engulfed Eirin. ’I realized how useless I am right now. He was right about me all along,’ she thought, her lower lip trembling. She dropped her bag with a thud, rummaging frantically for her towel. "Let me dry you up," she said, her voice soft, as she carefully removed Shade’s cloak.
Shade’s clothes, now much too big for him, hung awkwardly.
"We need to remove your clothes," Eirin said, but before her fingers could even brush the fabric, Shade’s small, flushed face twisted into a fierce glare. He huffed and puffed, a tiny, furious defiance. The teenage girl pressed her lips together, fighting a giggle. He looked adorable.