Raven's Return - Ruby Dixon Page 0,6

going to die from exposure…I hope. It hasn't seemed to affect these two too much, I can't help but think as I glance over at them. They're wearing nothing but woven yellowed leaves, their feet wrapped crudely in skins. They don't seem as uncomfortable as I am, but who can tell? "You guys didn't tend the fire? You let it go out?"

The child blinks at me. I look over at the father, and he's watching me with that same narrow-eyed expression, like he's trying to understand me.

"Do you guys not speak at all?" I try again. I pat my chest in the universal way of sharing names. "I'm Raven." I gesture at them.

The boy looks at his father.

The father says nothing. His expression doesn't change.

I try again. "Raven." I pat my chest, but no matter how many times I gesture at myself and indicate my name, it's like talking to a brick wall. They show no sign of understanding. "Ugh, fine," I finally say, and give up. I get to my feet, grab a new log and toss it on the fire. "I'm going to make this again so we can all enjoy a toasty-toasty fire at least, okay? Because my clothes need to dry out and they're not going to in this weather." I gesture at the snow that's drifting down from the clouds overhead.

This time, it takes several minutes for me to get the fire going, and I let out a sigh of relief when the flames catch on my tinder. I raise the pile to the firewood and settle it in a spot where it'll catch, then lean in to blow on the flames.

The man gets to his feet and kicks sand on the fire, putting it out the moment I lean back with satisfaction.

I sputter in shock. "What the fuck, dude?"

He gives me that same unyielding stare, and I feel something like hate in my guts. I try not to hate anyone, but this jerk is really pushing my boundaries. I pick up the rocks and what's left of my tinder and give the jerk a defiant look.

The stranger drags his foot slowly across the sand, an ominous indication he's going to do the same thing all over again.

I scowl and toss the rocks down. "You got a better idea on how to get warm? My clothes are like fucking ice. My nipples feel like they could scrape a hole in the side of the goddamn Titanic." When no one answers me, I suck in another deep breath of frustration. "Okay, well, if you're going to be like that, I'm not staying here."

I get to my feet, brushing off my leggings (wet and icy) and pick up my tunic (also wet and icy). I tighten the (wet) ties of my boots (also wet). I scowl at the man and his kid as I slop my wet clothes back on and begin to stomp down the beach. I have no idea where I'm going, but anywhere beats here.

It's no surprise that the man immediately steps in front of me, an ominous look on his face. He puts up a hand, his skin shimmering with a camouflage change that I've seen others do. And he frowns mightily, as if that will quail me into turning around and sitting next to my unlit fire again.

"Nope," I say, stepping right past him. "Go fuck yourself. Peace out." I flip him a peace sign and ignore him when he tries to get in front of me again. If I follow the coast, I'm bound to run into someone or something in the next few days. If not, well, I'll turn and go the other direction. I eye the rocky cliffs that seem to go right up to the edge of the water, the waves crashing against them. That's troublesome, but if he got me here, there's got to be a path. If there's no path, then I'll go the other way. All I know is that I'm not staying—

Footsteps crunch on the sand. Fast, running footsteps. That's the only warning I get before a big arm goes around my shoulders and something is pressed over my nose and mouth. It stinks. The leaves smell medicinal, and as I struggle against the dick holding me captive, I realize my limbs are getting heavy and everything's getting cloudy.

My last thought before I pass out is that this explains why my mouth tasted so weird before—because this isn't the first time I've been drugged.

I