Once you start traveling it’s sort of the end of things, isn’t it?That insatiable new cell in your brain that says What if? What next? What else? Or maybe it’s just that he’s been that way forever, and he constantly shifts and changes his goal posts. First out of Tinea, then out of Terrastella, then out of Ruris, then to Day Court. Then he was there and what he wanted next seemed much further all the sudden, when it should have been closer than ever.
Baja rises early in the morning. More than not being able to fall back asleep, the want to sleep has completely left him. Exorcised by a feeling stronger than insomnia: restlessness. The morning is dark and damp and his legs quiver to walk, far.
He stops at the oasis to watch the sun come up over the ocean. The oasis water is cooled from the night air and gives him a chill when it runs down his chin, but the melting sky staves off a shudder.
Just as the sun comes high and hot on his back, he reaches the edge of the forest. The damp forest smell reminds him of home. And mold. Nonetheless, the shade sounds nice when his body persists, and he continues the day’s walk.
The sound of the rapids finally shakes him.
Snow crunches and melts beneath him as he stands at the edge, contemplating the roar. After a moment's reflection, he follows the river to a quieter turn and it's there he sees her across it.
She sets apart the snow like the embers of a dying fire, her back the cinders and her belly the encroaching decay. Baja watches her, head lifted so he's staring over the tip of his nose. He watches her swallow, he watches her close her eyes in relief. He smells, faintly, something half like spice and half like a spell.
When he's sure she's opened her eyes to see him, his voice is cool saccharine. "Nothing like runnin' water, huh?"
