“Huh, I guess you’re right.” There was a slight inclination of humor in the tone of his voice, but also a sadness that I felt as well. It was the mention of the family that he could never have again, but still searched for. “Am I still aloud to say thank you?”
“If you must.”
“I must.” His arms gave me a little squeeze as his lips brushed my neck with a sweet kiss. I could feel the warmth in them and I sighed. This was how it should be. If only it wasn’t here, but some place that we could call home.
In the quiet of the night a strange buzzing sound grew steadily closer. It was quick. I turned my ears toward the sound, trying to hear it better. What was it? My eyes scoured the darkness beyond the glow of the fire. It was so dark, I couldn’t see anything. Then I noticed a ball of light floating towards us. It whizzed overhead, barely grazing the balloon above. It left a black streak of singed canvas in its wake. That was no ball of fire, it was an arrow engulfed in flames. I heard the all familiar twang of a bow string and the whizzing of another arrow through the night sky. The ball of light dropped ashes as it flew through the air, puncturing the balloon overhead. The canvas caught on fire as the arrow ripped through the other side of the balloon.
Someone was attacking the Stallings, but who would be this far north?
47047 / 94000 words. 50% done!