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I’m treated to what must be a rare glimpse of the girl beneath that shield of ebony stone when she decides to give a simple name, a practical label for that dark face. Indistinctly, her chiseled mask slips for a single instance. Quick lavender stones race to study those elegant lines and wrinkles as if I’m seeing them for the first time. She becomes locked tight shortly after – continuing an irritating habit to conflict with my expectations. In light of everything, a quiet smirk can’t help but taunt the corner of my lips when she all but sours at being mislabeled, “Aye,” I’m moved to agree while allowing a cold smile to touch both cheeks – but their warmth doesn’t reach these vigilant eyes. Concern for her bruised pride hadn’t made my mental check list; as a result, there is no inspiration in me to apologize for a slight that hadn’t visibly damaged her impression in the slightest.

When she replies, the answer douses me in icy water. I feel my heart sink as it forces the whisper of a smile to vanish in the wake of another befuddled frown. Those unfamiliar names sit on my mind and only serve to rattle me further. Disquiet settles between us like the frozen moisture drifting down from heaven. Winter? My internal shelves of logic are in a shivering disarray. How could that be? I’d left home in the middle of summer; yet the atmosphere seeks to make me look like a fool. Every follicle stands on end when the unmoving air finally lashes out with antarctic inspiration. This threaded muscles stiffen and huddle for warmth. My crown tucks, cloaking my features with a silky waterfall that acts as an effective barrier between myself and them. The unwelcome show of her soft concern forces my mind to shift from gaping disbelief to warm enmity.

Hooded stones don’t bother rising when Vu prods my subconscious with her cheeky mouth in regard to an unintentional snow shower from moments ago. Rather than an amused chuckle or grin that might’ve formed in reply in a different situation – nothing…nothing but numbness rises from me. “No.” I say quietly, obviously uncaring that I’m not clear as to what is being replied to. Hot, red anger bubbles on the surface of my soul. This mind rivets in torn correction, full of logic and desire…pain. I ignore the tantrum my thawed subconscious kicks up. “Tá mé ag dul ag siúl,” autopilot curtness slides from these clinched lips, uncaring that she wouldn’t understand. That offer of warmth, her concern for my wellbeing – all of it suddenly seems as false as the unexplained women herself. She is wrong – it feels easy to sooth myself with the denial.

Lies, all of it.

Turning into the direction my mind believes is southeast, I force this brisk carcass to obey the commands my mind shouts forcefully. These limbs begrudgingly set a rough pace, pulling me from their company with resentful shivers racing down each leg. Number two spoke just then, though I could barely hear her soft tongue from beneath the blood pounding in my head – one velvet ear tips back, catching her name on the wind; like a ghost whispering from the silent hollows around them. Feathered limbs break into a slow trot, pushing me through this white and black wood. No road, she says. Helovia. "Lies," I whisper aloud to convince myself.

I need you to be wrong.

Sean exiting unless stopped.

Glossary

Tá mé ag dul ag siúl - I'm going to walk