Restless

Mayra reflected on Finn's words. None of the books or stories around the village had depicted love as a choice, just something that happened, or didn't. The tragic myths as often as not contained tales of couples with an impossible love that was against all wisdom. At least, love in the romantic sense.

She recalled many times that her mother had told gotten onto her and her brothers when they fought. 'You need to love each other,' she'd said. If it could be commanded, surely it could be controlled on some level?

If that was so, would it be harder to choose to love someone you didn't, or to choose NOT to love someone that you already loved? If Finn was 'hoping' that love was a choice, who was she trying to choose to love, or not to love? These questions burned inside of Mayra, but Finn looked completely exhausted.

If the men had managed to get a fire going, a hot meal would do them all well. The air had become cold during the storm, and Riley was testy at best. He was happier when he was full of good food and might be a little kinder to their guest. Mayra decided to leave Finn to rest and go cook something. She gathered the cooking supplies and a few ingredients.

"Rest well, I'll be back soon, hopefully with some hot food. If the men aren't here yet, I'll start gathering kindling for when they return with the wood." With that, Mayra hopped out of the cart.

Finn watched her depart with mixed feelings. It had felt good to vocalize some of her tumultuous feelings, and of course Mayra was the only possible person around to whom she could vocalize any such things. Still, Mayra seemed like a barn kitten playing with yarn sometimes: playful and well meaning, but with clumsy, sharp little claws that could accidentally unravel everything.

She hoped the girl could keep things to herself, and even more than that, refrain from making everything awkward for Finn. It was tiring enough trying to heal on a bumpy journey. Any well-intentioned interference could emotionally exhaust her.

Pushing these thoughts to one side, Finn realized she wanted to stretch. She'd be sleeping in this very spot all night and suddenly felt the need to stand on her own feet (well, foot) for a while and breathe air that hadn't been trapped inside the stuffy cart for ages.

She could probably get down without help. Practicing with Mayra, she only had needed a little bit of stability to scooch off the back when it was open. Finn made her way there, pushing her crutch ahead. When she got to the end, she carefully calculated the best way to do this alone. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

"Mayra, are you still around?"

No answer. The stubbornness in Finn's heart pushed her to continue to the goal, with or without help. She admitted this was a bad idea and mentally wondered if she should practice her apology for if she fell down and made everything worse.

No! She would succeed. It would work out fine. Mayra had put the back section into its 'down' position when she left, which was already one less obstacle to Finn's grand escape from the confines of the wagon.

Coming to the edge, she gingerly scooted until both her lower legs dangled over the edge. Looking down, she tried to estimate the distance between her feet and the ground. A couple of feet, maybe? Depth perception was not within the bounds of her natural talents. She lowered the crutch over the side and kept lowering it until it rested on the ground.

See? That wasn't hard. Surely with one hand on the cart and the other on the top of the crutch, sliding down to the ground would be easily accomplished.

If she had examined the ground where the crutch rested, she might have taken note of the slippery mud underneath it. As soon as she began to lean outward to put weight onto it, the bottom began a slow slide outward. Noticing too late, instead of tumbling with it, Finn whipped backward, overcompensating and tipping back into the wagon.

Landing with her back against a drawer with a light "oomph!" that knocked the breath out of her, she shut her eyes tight in frustration. Now not only was she trapped more thoroughly than before, but she'd have to explain her foolhardy attempt to the others in order to get the crutch back.

"Everything alright?" Finn's eyes popped wide open. Of COURSE Riley would be the one to catch her misbehaving like a headstrong child who couldn't wait for help to do something they wanted to do.

"I'm fine." Finn gritted her teeth.

"I'm sorry the crutch I so painstakingly hand-carved for Your Hero-ness didn't meet up to your standards," He shook his head with mock contrition and sorrow as he picked it up. "I'm honored that you took the trouble to personally discard it in the mud."

"Look, Riley, it's obvious I was trying to get down and failed like a floundering trout out of water. You could just drop the sarcasm instead of guilt tripping me about it. That crutch has been invaluable and you know it. If I thank you a few dozen more times for it will that make us even?" Finn didn't mean to be so defensive, and flushed with immediate shame.

"I'm sorry. I'm hurting and frustrated but I shouldn't take it out on you. Other than the verbal harassment, you've been nothing but helpful and self-sacrificing this whole trip. Thank you for all you're doing for me," She finished as he set the crutch against the back of the cart.

Her vulnerability and sincerity caught him off guard after her little outburst. He smiled sincerely at her and reached for her waist with both hands to lift her down. For once she didn't cringe away from him, and allowed herself to be lowered to the ground without complaint or even making a face about it.

"You're welcome. I know I'm not the easiest guy in the world to get along with. I'm sorry. I'm going to try to be... kinder, I guess." He looked seriously into her eyes, promising her more than his words were saying. "Fewer jokes, at least, fewer ones at your expense while you're healing." His voice lightened, "but Mayra's still fair game, right?"

Finn laughed in spite of herself, "Far be it from me to get in the way of sibling banter."

Riley's hands hadn't left her waist since he set her down. Finn reached for the crutch Riley had leaned against the cart so she could stand on her own, and her good foot caught the same slightly slick patch of mud that had caused the whole debacle in the first place.

As her foot slid out from under her, she fell forward with her hands in front of her. Since Riley was still standing so closely to her, she found herself suddenly wrapped in a hug with her hands against his chest and staring up into his face.

She could feel his heart beating quickly, probably from the sudden scare, like her own.

"Come on, Finn," Riley whispered with his face closer to hers than it had ever been, "I just now promised not to joke at your expense anymore, and you had to throw yourself into my arms. How is that fair?" Though his words were teasing, his voice was tender and his gaze held an emotion she'd never seen.

Her face flushed absolutely crimson and she pushed away, almost falling backwards in the process. Riley caught her by the hand to steady her, and handed her the crutch with his other as she stood on one foot.

"I'm sorry." They said in unison.

"I'll go start a fire, it's getting dark quickly and it's been too long since we've eaten," said Riley. "I got some firewood, and Roland should be back with more soon. Where's Mayra anyway?"

"Kindling," was all Finn could squeak out, still deeply perturbed and embarrassed.

Riley nodded, looking down at her hand that he still held. He dropped it reluctantly and turned towards his task. "Please don't fall again until I'm back," were his departing words. His voice was tender and quiet, as it had been a moment before when she was in his arms. It affected her in a way she couldn't name as he turned and walked away.

As he began stacking the wood he'd brought, Roland appeared from the forest with another load. The man spared a ghost of a smile for Finn before aiding in the tasks that needed doing. He avoided Riley's gaze entirely.

Oh no, thought Finn. If Roland had been that close, what had he seen? What had he heard?

Riley was having the same thoughts, but with almost entirely opposite emotions. Whereas Finn felt that she wanted the ground to swallow her whole, Riley felt a deep satisfaction. Almost joy.

When he'd suggested Roland and he split up to find wood faster, he was hoping to get back a little quickly and find some pretense for a private moment with Finn. He didn't like the way she seemed to be warming to this stranger. Despite Mayra filling him in a little on the original meeting, he still felt they knew nothing about the man. He could be dangerous, or a womanizer, or any number of terrible things. People weren't always as they seemed or claimed to be.

On top of that, Riley plain didn't like him. For legitimate reasons that he just couldn't think of at the moment. He had tried hard to think about how to keep Finn closer to himself and further from Roland.

To have Finn literally (if accidentally) fall into his arms after they share a moment of true, vulnerable human connection was indescribable. Her eyes had lit up when she laughed at his quip about Mayra. Riley began whistling a happy little tune as he worked on the fire. If Roland had seen any part of his time with Finn, all the better. Surely the man would keep his distance from Finn now, and Finn would forget about him.