Page 47 of To Free a Soul
A sharp scratch, like claws digging into hard dirt, and Lindiwe knew she only had a split second to react, or she’d likely be bitten into by deadly fangs or sliced by cruel claws.
And in that split second, she did not move from her spot or stop writing, nor did she cease humming. She turned incorporeal, and a giant monster slipped through her intangible body. The creature struggled to change its position so it could land on all fours, since it had been expecting to tackle her rather than go through her.
Lindiwe didn’t lift her head as she turned physical and continued to write.
“You’ll need to do better than that if you want to catch me,” she informed him quietly.
With a rather beastly growl, her son slammed his big fist against the dirt. The white knuckle bones of his hand glistened in the sun, as did his feline skull, which only seemed to highlight his reddened orbs of rooted annoyance.
“No fair,”Leonidas rumbled, punching the ground again before snorting out a huff. He stalked off to the side.“Never catch.”
The last thing Lindiwe saw in her periphery before he disappeared into the tree line was his short-furred feline tail.
A smile teased her lips as she waited for him to try again.
Leonidas was rather fond of this game. It was a way for her to teach him how to hunt silently, which she’d learned was a valuable tool due to the recent events with Orpheus. She’d done this many times over the last two years and often used it as a way to teach him how to speak.
He was always there, lurking in the shade, watching her, inspecting his prey. He was listening, and she’d pull out various items and show him what they were, explain their names, their origins, where they came from – whether it be a flower, fruit, or an obscure item she had on her person.
If Orpheus was anything to go by, repetition was the key, and she had all the patience to spare. And Nathair had taught her that they could understand language, even if it took a long time.
She thought about all her children a lot, but she couldn’t give all her time to just one, even if she wanted to occasionally. Orpheus didn’t need her right now, as his relationship with Katerina seemed to be well, although not progressing past platonic friendship. Since she’d taken him to the Demon Village, Lindiwe had travelled across the entire world to greet all her Duskwalker children like she tried to do once a year, if not at least once every two years.
She spent a few weeks with each, taught them what she could, and then moved on in hopes that when she circled back next, they’d retained the information and had increased their humanity enough to understand it.
Then rinse and repeat... forever.
She’d only just returned to Austrális, and considering Merikh was an impossibility, she’d visited Leonidas first before she planned to head to Orpheus.
From her right, quick thumping radiated in her ears.
She turned incorporeal before he could touch her, and he slid against the ground when he landed. He gave her a hiss and paced next to her.
He scratched behind his curling ram horn, as if he was pondering how to win for once.
“What if he actually harms you?”Weldir asked, his voice hinting at mild concern.
Lindiwe shrugged. “Then so be it. It would be my own fault. I can’t taunt him and then be mad at him if he strikes true.”
“And what of the pain?”
“I’ve been dealt enough pain in my life that I barely register it anymore,” she murmured truthfully.
A purposeful sigh flittered through her mind.“What if he damages your cloak?”
“Then you will have to make me a new one, so long as he doesn’t swallow the stone.” She set down her charcoal holder and watched Leonidas cup his jaw and thinkvery deeplywhile looking off into the forest. “This is the only time he permits my nearness. Even if the game potentially has a cruel ending, it’s my way of being able to spend time with him.”
Because other than this, Lindiwe couldn’t get closer to Leonidas. He sat next to her whenhewanted to, but if she dared to reach out and touch him, she’d be snapped at by sharp fangs and he’d leave. If she attempted to instigate play, he’d act bored and wander off. And trying to talk to him directly was like talking to a wall, one that had the ability to rudely look at the sky as though it was of more interest.
He’s like a feral cat.If she went to pat him or gopstpstpst, he’d run off. But if she sat on the ground patiently, he mightcome and nuzzle his head and body against her. Touch him when or where he didn’t like to be touched, and she could be struck or bitten.At least he doesn’t lick himself and doesn’t mind water so long as it’s not deep.
All her children had an aversion to deep water, as they couldn’t float whatsoever, but she noted that the majority of them liked to be clean and dunked themselves regularly. Especially if they had fur.
“How’s Nathair today?” Lindiwe asked, showing that she wasn’t being argumentative out of annoyance at his presence.
“He is well. Chasing more conjured fish again.”Then she swore she heard the mildest chuckle in his voice as he added,“I guess we’re both playing with our offspring this day.”
“What of Tenebris?”
