That universal gesture, the nodding, pulls my burning gaze from wallowing in the reality of my sin against him. Irises peek upward, tears brace against the internal weight and responsibility that the fledged warrior is obviously (to me) concealing. His reply ricochets off the invisible barrier, silken threads flash against my heels in response. Frustration toward our handicap sparks; here is yet another exotic sound that bears no meaning. Irises carve a downward path, tenderly falling upon his tawny, tainted shoulder as it ripples and budges. Though the disfigured meat doesn’t seem to hinder my savior in the slightest; guilt isn’t so easily alleviated. It might take a long time to fade (if it ever did.) Rebuked by inner conflicts, my head retracts, curling inward protectively – as if that extra distance would drown the hot, charged atmosphere between us.

The wind stirs, whispering in the trees. A pair of dusted sparrows dart into the canopy, their sharp, muffled cries (which could mean anything) disappear into the distance. We walk? Ears slant backward and temples delve, wordlessly (unhelpfully) answering his question with scrunched confusion. Inexpressible lips curl downward as vexed emotions bubble to the surface of my mind. Our brief attempts at conversation highlight a timeworn truth, ‘two steps forward, one step back.’ But rather than waste effort on riddling his words, I scan, searching for those tiny gestures and hints. Despite the fog of doubt (which is fueled by a perception of mediocre abilities) invading my heart, I remain naively hung to the idea that he might bring clarity with body language alone.

As if taking cue, the eagle turns aside; casting a glance rearmost with what I perceive as an expectation. That’s when the light bulb of realization hums to life. His smog lifts fractionally, allowing brackish beams of light to filter through the obscurity. A downcast expression can’t help but brighten. Ears rise, resuming their watchful, engrossed position now that uncertainty has bowed into a blissful sense of progress. Outwardly, my crown politely averts; but inwardly -deep inside- mini me gawks, openly appreciating those masculine, square lines of perfection. A timid word of verification mounts behind my lips, “follow?” Brows arch slightly while these dual hue eyes tilt upward to track the lines of his expression like a road-map. Unlike my previous self-imposed masters…his request doesn’t seem like one that took the form of an order. The right forelimb lifts, pushing me another trembling step nearer; highlighting a willingness to show my obedience to him. Mini me isn't so cautious today -- she skips along, grinning fresh encouragement from the shadows. Irritably, my aching gut rumbles.