Chapter 21 | THE UNKINDNESS

I mean, yes, the limbs do look wide and sturdy. However, what if I fall? I have virtually no balance whatsoever, and if I fall...

I look at the distance between the branches and the callous river, furrowing my eyebrows.

Then I could totally die, depending on how deep and freezing the water is.

"Now, you see, normally I'd be up for tree-travel. But are you even sure if it's safe?"

"Tree-travel?"

I look at him. "Yeah. Now, stop being concerned over my personal dialect, and please answer my question. Thank you."

"Idiolect."

Before I can go, 'What? Tree-travel isn't that stupid of a term, is it?' I realize that idiolect, in fact, basically means 'personal dialect.'

"Idiolect, whatever. Now answer the question."

"You probably won't fall."

Silence.

I just stare at him with an unimpressed expression.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Am I really stressing him out that much? "I didn't say that you would probably fall, did I? I said you probably wouldn't."

I nod. "Yeah, but still."

He shakes his head, moving towards the giant tree which holds the first limb.

So, basically, he's doing this with or without me.

And, I'm not the weak, pathetic thing he thinks I am. So, I follow after him, stuffing the hatchet into one of the back pockets of my snow pants again.

When I reach the tree, he's already made it to the limb, the creepily agile man that he is. So, I struggle to climb up after him.

When I've pulled myself up to the giant limb, he's already on the one connecting branch from the tree on the other side. I watch as he swiftly crawls forward and into the tree on the other side of the river.

I wonder if he'll wait for me?

Probably not, but we'll see.

I take off my choppers, stuffing them into my pockets in order to be able to get a firm grip on the branch.

The tree bark is callous and cold, like a solid version of the river below. It feels as if there was ice layered deep on top of it, and it's only recently melted. I hate it because that means that it's slippery enough to the point where I could lose my grip.

Slowly and carefully, I place my hands forward, one in front of the other. And then I crawl, one knee moving in front of the other on the branch. I avoid looking at the river. I just focus solely on cautiously moving ahead, making sure to keep my balance. When I eventually make it across, I struggle to climb into the tree, but once I do, I begin to descend. As I drop to the ground, the first thing I see is Vaughn leaning against a tree a few feet away. So he waited for me, then? Huh.

"You're slow."

I roll my eyes, putting my choppers back on. "You've said that before, Spiderman."

He looks at me, almost seemingly amused, before he shakes his head and starts walking farther into the forest without saying another word.

"I love exploring."

"Okay, Dora."

I stop dead in my tracks, eyes wide as I look at him. After only a couple days, he's suddenly not as cold to me as before? He's even made a joke? Progress! But why? How? What happened?

He shakes his head without looking back, almost as if he's reading my mind right now.

I follow after him cheerfully, taking my hatchet out of my back pocket. However, my smile fades slightly as I look around the forest.

I can't find the words to describe it. It feels like Alaska, yes, but for some reason, this side of the river feels...darker. Gloomier, and more dangerous. It's probably because there are more trees over on this side, ones that haven't lost all of their leaves.

The snow is, unfortunately, still an annoyance, and I feel myself losing what seems like half my body weight as I trudge along.

"Has anyone ever stumbled across your cabin?"

I don't expect an answer, so when he responds with "Why?" I'm surprised.

"Well, you seem to have quite a few security measures."

"Such as?"

"Well, you have Moose stay at the cabin when you leave, you have the gun, you tree-travel to avoid unnecessary tracks, and you have the unkindness."

He stops mid-step and turns around, "I have what?"

I swallow nervously as his eyes meet mine, and they seem to be an even more piercing green at the moment. It's almost as if he's silently telling me to repeat it, and I can't help but feel a little apprehensive about what I said. Granted, I knew this would probably happen when I said it; I knew he would misinterpret my words. However, I want him to directly mention the "unkindness."

I honestly said nothing wrong or offensive to him, but he just doesn't know that yet.

"You have the dog, the gun, the trees, and the unkindness."

"Unkindness?"

I nod, watching as a slight scowl graces his features. "Yeah."

"Letting you stay with me is unkind?"

I struggle to keep my face straight and remain silent, deciding to try and learn something about him.

His eyebrows start to furrow slightly. "What makes you think I'm not kind? My lack of talking? Do you honestly think my silence is a security measure of sorts?"

I smile a bit. "Uh, Vaughn?"

His brows remain furrowed in confusion, and he doesn't say anything as I start walking forward again and pass him. Over my shoulder, I ask, "You do know that a flock of ravens is technically called an unkindness, right?"

Silence.

I smile as I continue to walk forward, keeping my eyes peeled for a cave. After a few moments, I hear the trudging resume behind me.

The land starts to slope upwards into a hill, and I climb it, noticing the number of trees around is lowering.

When I reach the top of the hill, I see the forest continue on for a bit, but ahead, it gets cut off at a sort of field.

Well, at least I'm assuming that it's a field. All I see on the ground is snow, so I can't really say.

The woodland eventually resumes, the treeline looking dark from where I stand at the top of the hill.

However, three specific things and details command all of my attention immediately after I take in the basic surroundings. The first and foremost is the giant mountain-like wooded butte, standing tall up ahead. I would love to see the view from up there.

The second is the calming-looking crick running through the field. If the river we crossed earlier had a complete opposite, this creek would be it.

And, the third thing is the cave that looks quite similar to the one where I spent the first night out here.

By now, Vaughn's allowed himself to catch up to me, and he's standing to my right, looking around.

"So, that's the cave, I'm guessing."

He nods.

I start walking again, looking all around me. "Look how pretty it is!"

Vaughn continues walking to my right, which surprises me. I'd of thought he'd walk in front of me or behind me, to keep his distance. He doesn't say anything about it; however, he does reply to my earlier statement.

"Wow, snow and trees. So pretty," Vaughn says dryly, and I look over at him, surprised again.

His velvety voice is still soft and quiet; however, I do notice he's begun speaking slightly louder than a couple of days ago. But, back to what he said...That's totally something I'd say!

So he can be sarcastic, that's fantastic!

Although, instead of mentioning it, I just roll my eyes slightly, smiling a bit. "And, there's the cute little crick, and the mountain thing, and the cave."

"You're calling a creek cute?"

I raise one of my eyebrows. I notice that I tend to do that a lot, probably because I simply can. "And what about it?"

He shakes his head, and we continue walking towards the treeline and the cave side by side.

I notice that he shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose a lot, and he also tilts his head slightly sometimes. So, I'm deciding that those are his defining gestures and movements.

I wonder what mine are, besides raising an eyebrow. I guess I haven't really thought about it before.

A question pops up into my head, and before I can think about it, I ask: "How'd you get the scar on your cheek?"

He glances to his left to look at me for a split second. Then, he turns his head back to keep looking ahead. He's silent for a few minutes. Then, out of nowhere, he says: "Explain to me what happened to you in Washington, and I'll tell you."

I frown slightly, not really thinking it's fair. "I'm not asking you why you moved out here at 18."

He's silent for a few more moments as we continue trudging through the deep snow.

Then: "I got it in town."

I look at him, surprised. "What? I'd of assumed you got it out here from a wild animal or something."

He glances at me, not saying anything further.

"...How, though?"

"Broken beer bottle."

"Who?"

There's no answer, so I nod, not pressing any further. Vaughn's already opened up to me way more than I thought he would, and I don't want him to shut down again.

Right when we're about six or so yards away from the cave, Vaughn holds out his right arm in front of me. Once I've stopped, he retracts his arm, swinging his rifle around and holding it in front of him. "Stay here."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Why? What're you doing?"

"Looking in the cave for animals."

"Okay...and what if, while you're in there, a wolf or something comes running at me? What am I supposed to do," I hold up the hatchet as he stares blankly, "somehow hack it to death with this?"

He doesn't say anything as he just turns around and starts walking to the cave. So I follow after him.

After being solely in the woods for the past few days, walking in an open field is making me feel exposed and vulnerable. I know it's ridiculous, but the thought of being a sitting duck just keeps popping up into my head.

When we reach the cave, I let Vaughn walk in first, with his gun out in front of him. It's a reasonably big cave compared to the one near the cabin, and my eyes need a few moments to adjust to the lack of much light.

When they finally do, however, I see an empty, cold cave.

"Uh, Vaughn?"

"Yes?"

"How long do we have to stay here?"

"We can leave now."

I nod, quickly turning around and scurrying out of the cave, preparing myself to be blinded by the light. He follows, eventually walking beside me once again.

"Did you look through all of his pictures yet?" He asks out of the blue.

I shake my head, remembering how I was unable to finish them last night. "No...come to think of it, I found three more SD cards in his camera bag that I haven't looked through."

He nods.

Neither of us says anything as we start to head back the way we came. I just keep a hold on the hatchet in my right hand, and Vaughn holds his gun with a firm grip.

If it weren't for the tracks we left on the way here, I'd have to follow Vaughn because I wouldn't know where to go.

Thankfully, however, I can just step on my earlier imprint, and we're able to travel at a steady pace back through the trees.

However, once we reach the hill, I'm hesitant about slipping and falling down it. Vaughn isn't.

He takes about one significant step down, grabbing hold of a tree that's grown on the hill to steady himself. Then, one more large, smooth movement and he's down to the flat land again.

He turns around, looking at me almost expectantly.

Why does he have to wait for me? Does he want me to attempt what he did just so he can see me fail?

I sigh, knowing I'm probably going to end up face-first in the snow when I try my best to mimic his actions.

Before I take the first step down, I put the hatchet in my back pocket so I'm able to grab hold of the tree firmly.

Taking the first big step, I immediately know that I look awkward as I'm trying to copy his smooth movements. And after I let go of the tree and start to take the second giant step to the ground, I feel my feet begin to slip and slide, and my knees buckle as I fall forward.

"Ah!" I yelp, expecting to feel my face hit the icy cold snow. But, I'm surprised when I feel a warm breath on it instead.

My eyes are squeezed closed from my flinching, but when I slowly open them after a few seconds, I'm met with emerald green ones staring right back at me.

Can you say cliche?

Then I become fully aware of one of his hands on my upper left arm, the other on my waist. So does he, apparently, because immediately he lets go and I almost fall to the ground as I straighten.

He's begun walking again, so I follow after him. "Thanks," I call out hesitantly, adding nothing more.

He doesn't say anything in reply.

I follow him until we reach the river, and he seems to take his sweet time this time around like he's in no hurry to get back.

However, when my eyes drift behind me while I wait for him to start climbing the tree, I instantly wish he was.