Passive agressive

Once back home, Tom leaned on his bed to wonder, he talked with his pillow.

"What's going on with Oswald? His muscle mass grew a lot in one month, his eyes changed color. Nonsense!"

He lit a candle and stared at his ceiling. The bed occupied a large portion of his room, because the latter was huge compared to most. Amid pillows filled with duck feathers and silk bedsheet, his thoughts revolved around Oswald.

It captivated him, he was impatient for puberty to hit him hard. The sore muscles on his arms prevented him from practising further his knife-throwing skills.

He was a little jealous to be fair. His view point was the same as Reggy, albeit he wouldn't agree with Adelmo's grudge because he had no idea about Oswald behavior toward Tina.

What was this feeling earlier? Yes, he felt safe at first. Anytime he wasn't alone he felt safe. But Oswald had this kind of aura, incomparable to Dariel. It was one filled with pheromones, a manly presence that marked the air around him, nothing visible to the naked eye though. And this glare...

"Can I buy it?" He asked himself, sniffing his overstuffed pillow.

His family's moto was. 'The best merchant is capable trade a wink.' It meant relationship were a key to transactions. This is why he wanted to become close to Oswald. First because he envied him. His skills and physique alike. Second because he knew that, if he left his envy take advantage of his thoughts, it'd become hate.

Hate had always been a stronger form of jealousy.

In Tom's opinion, Oswald couldn't hunt outside, he was jealous because Adelmo could, he knew where the traps were hidden.

He considered Adelmo a fool wanting to mess with Oswald. He didn't even had the right to call him by his nickname, he was fooling around obviously. Tom missed one piece of the puzzle, but he had a good education and means, hence he never considered himself entirely right.

Meanwhile, in the forest near the village, Oswald wandered, following the green footprints with a fast-paced walk, he found green spots, with a dense amount of iron-like smell and Dariel's scent as well.

Each time he wanted to decipher a smell further, he had in his mind a picture, fraction of his memory telling him what he was smelling. It was double edged, as his mother's smell drastically changed in one night, little bits of his mind were corroded with doubts.

Because the glow on his favorite knife had yet to fade, he chose the best solution to track the traps. He urinated on every of them after making sure there was something under the snow and dead leaves. 'I don't care if it repels wolves as well. I don't want to try one inadvertently.' He thought.

In a circular pattern on his lands, he found eight traps. He was mad to discover Adelmo's lie, but relieved to be right, the man wanted to harm him.

'With his eyes sunk into his face, there's no way he's still up at this time of the night. Good.' He thought, triggering the traps near his house with dead branches. He carried all of them like bracers, and went to the village. The moon was high up in the sky, there was no trace of sunlight, it was the perfect occasion to act.

Not a person in sight, the village was a wonderful place during the night, despite its pungent smell.

He climbed seven times, each time holding one trap tightly to not make them clink. He was careful enough to not slip on the ice. The one-floor shop had a stylish balcony with a drooping fence, making the task easier. He observed, through the gaps of the window's shutters, the two little kids sleeping peacefully, Ugo and his little sister.

He bent forward to check the other window, making sure Adelmo was here as well and not doing some dirty tricks again.

He hid the steel traps where no one but Adelmo could find them, on his roof, in the drainage system. With as much flexibility as a snake, he moved on the creaking wood. He was amazed to be able to tremendously muffle his moves.

The eighth time, he sat at the top of the roof, its reverse 'V' shape gave few places to stabilize himself. Yet, with little effort, he rearmed the last one, and turned it upside down.

Clunk!

The iron maw damaged the roof in a surprisingly loud noise, waking up the first floor's sleepers. Oswald's sharp ears caught someone walking under the roof, he ran away the next second, he was done.

A four-meter jump was required to either touch the ground or reach next roof, he made his choice and softly landed, to vanish into the woods the next instant.

'He'll go on his roof when rain will fall on his head. If I bring my game tomorrow, he'll be stunned, but he won't know about the traps. He'll think I'm fooling around, playing with fire! I'm controlling the situation. I want to see his face when I come back with more meat on a silver plate.' He said, thinking about the moment he'll have to change his rusty wheelbarrow.

His next stop was at Ruth's house. He wanted to talk with her few nights ago, the night was far from being over, so he rushed to it.

Knock knock. The little girl gently woke up and opened the window.

She was glad to see him anew though she assumed he could be sleepwalking, she had plenty to say, but a little detail poked her interest. "What's wrong with your eyes? Why are they so shiny?" She whispered.

"There's nothing wrong with them, I see better at night than during the day. The color is nothing I can explain, it happens. Please don't be scared, my mother hates them, she's putting me aside because of it." He had no reason to lie, the little comfort Meryl offered faded week after week.

She simply smiled as a reply and invited him into her bedroom.

With the little girl, he felt at peace. There was no tension between them, no real secret, only omissions.

When Oswald chose to sit on the carpet to engage the conversation, the little girl got out of bed wearing her blanket like a cape. She sat on his legs to get as much heat as possible.