Heavy Questions
1042 Words
I hadn’t realized how far we’d run until Damien mentioned it.
“You were miles out,” he said, leading the way through a thinning part of the forest. “Farther than any of us expected.”
I glanced at Ronan walking a few paces ahead, his expression unreadable like always. I couldn’t help but think about how we’d barely made it out of that mess—whatever that mess even was. Wolves attacking wolves? Packs fighting like something territorial? I didn’t know, and no one seemed to want to offer answers.
“You’d already hiked out to that clearing before all this?” Damien asked without turning.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “We were looking for a stupid mushroom Bailey wanted for a picture.”
Damien huffed a small laugh. “And then you ran halfway across the damn woods.”
The joke didn’t land for me. I was too busy trying to figure out why things had shifted again. The woods didn’t seem as loud anymore. I wasn’t overwhelmed by every twig snap or every gust of wind carrying fifty different smells. My head wasn’t splitting open anymore.
Maybe it was fading. Or maybe I was just getting used to it.
I slowed down slightly, falling back beside Ronan. “Do you feel different after stuff like that?” I asked quietly. “Like… your body feels weird? Your head’s clearer but heavier at the same time?”
He didn’t answer right away. Then, “I'm not sure I know what you mean.”
Helpful.
Damien called back, “We’re gonna set up camp just ahead. Safer to stay put for the night. Too far to make it back before dark.”
“Okay,” I replied, even though I didn’t know if it was okay. Being out here wasn’t my idea of safe. But with Ronan and Damien, I didn’t feel in danger either. It was this odd in-between that I hadn’t decided how to categorize yet.
The clearing wasn’t large—just enough space for a few tents and a fire pit someone had clearly used before. One of the other guys broke off immediately to start scouting. The other tossed a bag down and disappeared in the opposite direction.
“They’re patrolling,” Ronan said, answering the question before I asked. “Standard procedure when we’re out here.”
“Out here?” I asked, arching a brow.
“With the group. When we travel.”
Damien glanced between us but didn’t chime in.
I sat near the fire pit, pulling my knees to my chest. I was exhausted, but not physically—mentally. Emotionally. I wanted answers, but I wasn’t sure which questions were worth asking anymore. I didn’t want more half-truths or vague deflections.
Ronan knelt across from me. “You okay?”
I nodded. “Just… thinking. A lot.”
“About what?”
I looked up at him. “Everything.”
He gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment, and to my surprise, he didn’t try to change the subject or brush it off. He just stayed there, quiet, waiting.
So I took the opportunity. “Why were you even out there? Before all the chaos?”
He looked toward Damien.
Damien sat on a fallen log nearby, arms crossed, one leg casually resting on the other. “We were hunting,” he said simply.
“Hunting?”
“For food,” Ronan clarified.
My brain tried to piece that together. “You live out here or something?”
“We move around,” Damien said. “Summer’s the only time we stay in one place long. That’s when we visit your gran’s town.”
“Why?”
Ronan met my eyes. “That’s not my story to tell.”
It wasn’t defensive. Just honest. And I could respect that.
Still, something in me pushed back. “Why were those wolves after us? They weren’t normal.”
“No, they weren’t,” Damien said. “But that’s also not something you need to worry about right now.”
I folded my arms. “I think I deserve more than that.”
“You do,” Ronan agreed. “But we’re not ready to give you everything. Not yet.”
I didn’t like it, but I appreciated the honesty. They weren’t lying—they were just waiting.
The air grew quieter. The sun dipped lower through the trees, and the gold haze made the world feel paused.
I noticed how Ronan shifted near the fire, the glow catching the sharp line of his jaw, the calm way his hands moved as he adjusted the woodpile. He didn’t fidget like most people did. Every movement he made seemed deliberate, like he didn’t waste energy on the unnecessary.
My eyes lingered a second longer than they should have. He caught me looking but didn’t say anything.
“You’re quiet,” he said instead.
“Maybe I’m just getting used to you.”
He smirked. “Scary thought.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. I could feel the pull between us again—not loud, not obvious—but present. It wasn’t even romantic, exactly. It was curiosity. Familiarity. Whatever lived in the space between those two things.
We didn’t talk much after that. The other two returned, gave the all-clear. Damien told them to get some rest and took up watch himself.
I laid on the ground near the fire, using my bag as a pillow. Ronan settled beside me, a respectful few feet away.
The quiet settled in again, but it didn’t feel heavy. Just still.
“Does the noise ever get to you?” I asked softly.
“Sometimes,” he said. “But I’ve learned how to focus through it.”
“You helped me,” I said. “Back in the shack.”
“I know.”
I turned my head to look at him. “Why?”
“You needed it.”
I didn’t have a response to that. My heart was too full of unfamiliar emotions I didn’t have the words for yet.
Eventually, the fire crackled low. The sky darkened into violet and steel. My eyes closed.
And for a long time, I didn’t dream at all.
- Writer
