“Huh, I guess you’re right.” There
was a slight inclination of humor in the tone of his voice, but also a sadness
that I felt as well. It was the mention of the family that he could never have
again, but still searched for. “Am I still aloud to say thank you?”
“If you must.”
“I must.” His arms gave me a little
squeeze as his lips brushed my neck with a sweet kiss. I could feel the warmth
in them and I sighed. This was how it should be. If only it wasn't here, but
some place that we could call home.
In the quiet of the night a strange
buzzing sound grew steadily closer. It was quick. I turned my ears toward the
sound, trying to hear it better. What was it? My eyes scoured the darkness
beyond the glow of the fire. It was so dark, I couldn't see anything. Then I
noticed a ball of light floating towards us. It whizzed overhead, barely grazing
the balloon above. It left a black streak of singed canvas in its wake. That
was no ball of fire, it was an arrow engulfed in flames. I heard the all
familiar twang of a bow string and the whizzing of another arrow through the
night sky. The ball of light dropped ashes as it flew through the air,
puncturing the balloon overhead. The canvas caught on fire as the arrow ripped
through the other side of the balloon.
Someone was attacking the Stallings,
but who would be this far north?
47047 / 94000 words. 50% done!
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