Page 22 of Wolves & Watercolors
“Cedar?” Aurora asks, moving to my side.
“Is that the garden bed we planted yesterday?” I mumble, not taking my eyes off the sprouts.
“Maybe? I don’t know. It’s your garden.” Her nervous laugh wraps around me, begging my attention to refocus on her.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s the carrots and radishes we planted,” I confirm, even while I doubt myself. “But that doesn’t make sense.”
“I’ve always heard radishes sprout fast, but damn.”
Maybe I lost track of the days. I get lost in my own world, and with Aurora visiting, I’ve been distracted. It can’t have been yesterday.
“Ready to go?” Aurora asks, looking over her shoulder at me.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“You better lead the way!”
Nodding, I force my legs into motion until I’m passing the quiet chicken coop and exiting the north end of the garden. Aurora marches along a step behind me, flanking me just like she would if we were wolves running together. I steal glances at her when I can. Her ponytail sways as she walks. Leaves crunch under our feet cheerfully.
“Did you bring paints or just your sketchbook?” I ask, casting around for anything to discuss. Any safe topic.
“The whole shebang,” she replies, that smile back. I focus on the path.
Silence stretches between us. We pass Slate and Hazel’s cabin on the edge of the compound. If we went west, the ground would slope down until we hit the creek. But Bracken Creek slopes northward and carves out the landscape, leaving scenic overviews scattered along its length. As long as we don’t go too far east and run into that waterfall and pond that Slate has claimed. Even knowing the Alpha couple are back home and not using it, I still have no desire to go near their private spot.
My calves start to burn as the elevation increases. I’m used to running this on four paws. Not that I can tell Aurora that. Grinding my teeth, I forge ahead.
“Okay, I need a break,” she says, finding the closest rock to plop down on. “I’m notthatout of shape, but I’m pretty sure there is less oxygen up here. That’s a thing, right?”
“Are you okay?” I crouch in front of her, evaluating the flush in her cheeks. When she raises her head, her pupils dilate.
“I’m fine.” It’s barely more than a whisper. “Just need to get some air back into me, and you being so close isn’t helping,” she says with a dry laugh.
I step back so quickly, my heel snags on a plant, and I can’t regain my balance. Windmilling my arms, I go down in slow motion. My ass hits the dirt with an embarrassing thud.
“Cedar!” Aurora launches herself at me, knees hitting the dirt beside me. “Are you okay?” Her hand cradles the back of my head, checking for injury.
It hurts to suck air back into my lungs. “I’m fine. Not hurt.” My voice rasps.
“Thank goodness. There’s no way I could haul you back to the cabin.” I can’t help but roll my eyes at her teasing.
With a grunt, I push myself up and stand. My tailbone and hip protest, but I ignore them. “Do you need more of a rest, or can we keep going?
“I’m good,” she says. “Are you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Her gaze flicks down my body and back up, a small line between her brows. “If you’re sure.”
Feeling humbled, I trudge past her and resume our hike. Aurora follows, humming a soft tune I don’t recognize. The trees thin as we near our destination. It won't be long now.
Aurora lets out a snort of laughter. I twist to frown at her and her nose scrunches up. “Cedar, I hate to tell you this, but you have a dirt print on your ass. It’s impressive, really.”
“Well, don’t look,” I suggest dryly.
“I can’t help it! It’s very distracting.”
Swallowing thickly, I brush my hands over my rear, trying to rid myself of the dirt.
