A synopsis and any pertinent content warnings related to the topics in this novel may be found here: On The Forest. When I enter our camp, she already starts towards the creek, pausing about fifty yards ahead, sitting on a boulder with her back to me. I wash my hands, pull my tackle box and pole from the truck, and walk up to her.
As I get close, I can again smell the scent of her refreshed enchantment and I need to do something likewise about my lingering, smelly repulsiveness. I notice her eyes are closed as she faces the direct afternoon light. I step just ahead of her, marveling at her calmness, and her beautiful face, and the way the breeze catches the edges of her hair. Spots of water speckle her shirt; she must have cleaned up a bit, and I keep my distance despite being downwind from her.
There she is: the playful adorable creature that rode up with me yesterday and illuminates my weekend. She is back. I remember that response as the same one she gave me when I invited her to join me here. I notice the corner of her mouth lift slyly and perhaps she uses the response multi-functionally, but I get the impression that despite her earlier outing, she eagerly wants to join me by the creek.
Whatever she is getting, this might give me the chance to get to the water ahead of her and clean up a bit, so I start without her. She knows where she is going. By the time I reach the creek, I can already hear her in close pursuit, so I cast my line and hope she will take over for a few minutes.
She still stands nearby but makes no effort to take the pole. She probably thinks I am going to take off again. She must believe me, because she finally extends her hand as the line nears our location, ready to be cast again, which she does.
