Chapter 15: Evening Return [R-18 Contents!]
The last of the rabbit pelts slipped free from the carcass with a satisfying whisper, and I carefully folded it alongside the others in my hunting bucket.
"That should do it for today," I murmured, wiping my hands on the rough cloth Lisa had provided.
I gathered my things, securing the bucket’s leather strap across my shoulder. As I moved toward the door, I caught sight of Lisa organizing her own tools.
"Thank you for the lesson," I said, pausing at the threshold.
Lisa looked up, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. The earlier flush had faded from her cheeks, but there was still something different in her eyes—a new awareness that hadn’t been there this morning. "You’re a quick learner, Hal. Much quicker than boys your age."
I smiled and raised my hand in farewell, and she returned the gesture, her fingers lingering in the air for just a moment longer than necessary.
As I stepped into the cool evening air, I couldn’t help but feel satisfied with more than just the day’s hunt. Lisa was four years my senior and I knew that in her eyes, I was still just a boy playing at being a man. But time had a way of changing perspectives, and I was patient. I had already planted something in her heart that no other boy or man had managed before. When I came of age, when my shoulders broadened and my voice deepened fully, I would simply need to awaken what was already sleeping there.
The path home wound through patches of silver moonlight filtering through the canopy above. I had spent far longer at Lisa’s than intended, but the time had been well invested.
The warm glow of our cottage windows came into view as I crested the small hill leading to our property. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, and I could make out the silhouettes of Mother and Rosaluna through the kitchen window. They were seated at our worn wooden table, sharing what appeared to be a late dinner.
I pushed through the front door, the familiar creak of the hinges announcing my arrival. The warmth of the house enveloped me immediately, carrying with it the savory aroma of Mother’s cooking and the faint scent of the wildflowers Rosaluna often brought in from her afternoon walks.
"Oh, my boy, you’re back," Mother called out, setting down her spoon and turning to greet me with a warm smile.
"I’m back," I replied, hefting the bucket slightly to show its contents. "And I brought quite a lot of game with me."