The warm light of morning filtered through the dense canopy of the Whispering Ravine, casting shadows across the bumpy road.
Ingrid’s eyes fluttered open to a vibration that shook her body. Her head throbbed with a dull ache, and her limbs felt like heavy sacks of lead, completely drained from the wild events of the previous night.
She blinked once, then twice, confused at the blue sky that was above her. There was no cozy cave roof or shade. Instead, there was an open sky and she was also laying down on something really hard.
Ingrid sat up with a jolt as the cart lurched violently as one of its iron-rimmed wheels slammed into a deep pothole in the dirt.
"What the hell?!" Ingrid yelled out loud, her voice cracking as she tumbled sideways into a heap of straw. "What is going on?! Where am I?!"
"Stop shouting," a deep, quiet voice growled from the front of the cart. "Unless you want to advertise our location to every zombie within ten miles so we can get eaten all over again."
Ingrid blinked away the sleep in her eyes and looked ahead. Standing at the front, pulling the long wooden handles of the handcart with infuriatingly effortless grace, was Lysander.
His dark hair was tied back, and he moved with a steady stride, completely unbothered by the heavy load he was dragging along the rugged path. One thing she noticed though, was the fact that the tip of his jet black hair was beginning to turn silver and his skin was slightly fairer.
"Lysander?!" Ingrid gasped, her jaw dropping as she scrambled to sit upright, picking pieces of dirt out of her messy hair. "Are you serious?! Why am I in a cart?! Why didn’t you wake me up so I could walk like a normal human being?!"
Lysander didn’t even turn his head, though his shoulders twitched slightly. "I tried. I shook you, I called your name, and at one point, I even thought you had died. You didn’t even flinch. Short of dumping a bucket of freezing river water on your face, nothing was going to wake you up."
"So your bright idea was to throw me into a rickety wooden wagon like a sack of potatoes?!" Ingrid demanded, her voice rising an octave.
"I had to find something to carry you in so we could move," Lysander replied coolly, his tone sharp and practical. "The atmosphere in the Whispering Ravine was getting eerie after midnight. The air was getting thicker. I was not going to sit around waiting for you to finish your epic coma while the forest tried to swallow us whole."
Ingrid huffed loudly, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at his broad back. She was still thoroughly annoyed that he had unceremoniously hauled her around like cargo after everything she had gone through for him last night! She had literally sacrificed her clothes, her dignity, and her energy to save his ungrateful life, and this was the treatment she got?
As she stared at the back of his head, her mind suddenly flashed back to the chaotic, heat-filled moments of the previous night. Her face flushed, and her eyes drifted up to his face.
Wait. Lysander was still wearing his veil.
The dark fabric covered his nose and mouth, tied tightly behind his head just like it had been before everything went down.
"Woah, woah, woah, hold on a second!" Ingrid called out, raising a finger as a mischievous grin began to spread across her face. She cupped her hands around her mouth and made a loud sound like someone trying to stop a runaway horse. "Whoa, boy! Whoa! Stop right there!"
Lysander stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly dropped the handles of the cart, turning around to face her with a look of utter disbelief. "Did you just... make horse noises at me?"
"Yes, I did! Now drop the cart and come here!" Ingrid scrambled out of the cart, her feet hitting the dirt path with a soft thud. She marched straight up to him, pointing an accusing finger at his covered nose and lips. "Why are you still covering your face with that veil? Why are you hiding?"
Lysander immediately looked away, shifting his gaze toward the tall pine trees along the trail. "I am not hiding. It keeps the dust out of my nose."
"Liar! After everything I did for you yesterday, you’re still lying to me! It’s so unfair! I sacrificed myself and my body for you!" Ingrid squeaked, stepping around him to get right back into his field of vision.
"S... Shut up!" Lysander’s voice got a little high pitched.
Ingrid was about to say something else when she noticed something. Rising out of his dark hair, the tips of his slightly elongated, pointed ears were burning a bright, undeniable shade of crimson.
Ingrid’s eyes widened, and her grin turned completely wicked. "Oh my gosh. Look at your ears! Lysander, are you blushing?!"
"I am not blushing," Lysander stated flatly, keeping his head turned firmly to the side. "It’s cold out this morning. My ears are sensitive to the cold."
"Sensitive to the cold, my foot!" Ingrid cackled, leaning in close and peering up at him teasingly. "Oh, come on! Why are you acting like a pure, innocent maiden all of a sudden? I want to see your face! Pull down the veil! Let me take a nice, long look at you!"
Lysander let out a low, embarrassed breath, his eyes flickering down toward her before rapidly darting back to the trees. "Didn’t you... didn’t you look at it enough yesterday night?" he muttered under his breath, his voice so quiet it was almost swallowed by the breeze. "Why do you need to look at it again now?"
Ingrid froze for a split second before gasping loudly, pointing her index finger straight at his chest like a prosecutor landing a winning blow in court. "Aha! I knew it! You do remember everything that happened last night! You were pretending to be all cold and indifferent, but you remember every single detail!"