The moment Theo finished tying his shoes, he threw the front door open with far more force than necessary.
The wooden frame rattled against the wall, and I winced at the sound.
That door had seen better days and Theo’s enthusiasm was not doing it any favors.
The hinges groaned in protest, a sound I’d grown accustomed to over the weeks, but Theo paid it no mind.
He was already halfway out the door before it had fully opened.
“Syly!
I’m off to see Bibi!” His voice echoed through the little house, bouncing off the walls and filling every corner with its cheerful energy.
The boy had a set of lungs on him that could rival a town crier’s, and he used them without reservation.
“I can hear you,” I replied, leaning against the doorframe with my arms folded.
The wood was cool against my back, rough with age.
The morning sun streamed through the open door, warming the floorboards and casting long shadows across the room.
Theo bounced from one foot to the other, barely able to contain his excitement.
His small body practically vibrated with energy, his eyes wide and bright.
He had been talking about visiting Bibi ever since he woke up this morning, chattering about it through breakfast, through getting dressed, through every single moment of the morning routine.
Apparently, she had recently had babies, and he had insisted on seeing them before anyone else.
The way he spoke about it, you’d think the entire world revolved around those newborn creatures.
“Okay,” I said, keeping my voice calm despite the chaos.
“Just make sure you’re back before it starts raining.” Theo nodded so enthusiastically I thought his head might fall off.
His hair flopped wildly with each movement, a messy tangle of brown that defied all attempts at brushing.
I’d given up trying to tame it today.
“I will!” He waved both hands, fingers splayed wide, as though he were saying goodbye to an entire army rather than just me.
“Bye-bye!” “Bye.” I watched him race down the path without looking back once.
His small feet pounded against the dirt, kicking up little clouds of dust with each step.
The child was incapable of walking when running was an option, his small legs pumping furiously as he disappeared into the treeline.
Within seconds, he was swallowed by the forest, his cheerful voice still echoing faintly through the trees.
Typical.
Only after he disappeared into the trees did I finally close the door.
The latch clicked softly into place, sealing out the warmth of the morning sun.
The sudden silence felt almost oppressive after Theo’s endless chatter.
I waited another few moments just to make sure he wouldn’t suddenly remember he’d forgotten something and come sprinting back.
It had happened before—more times than I cared to count.
He’d get halfway down the mountain, realize he’d left his favorite rock or his special stick or some other treasure, and come charging back like a tiny hurricane, completely oblivious to the chaos he left in his wake.
I immediately spun around and hurried deeper into the house, my footsteps quick and purposeful against the wooden floor.
We didn’t have much time.
Theo’s visits to Bibi never lasted long—two hours at most—and there was much to do.
I marched straight toward the room belonging to Mr.
Arrogant Knight Alpha and pushed the door open without bothering to knock.
“Get up.” He looked up from where he sat on the edge of the bed.
Even without sight, he’d turned toward the sound of my entrance with uncanny precision, his black pits fixed on the general direction of my voice.
His hair was still slightly disheveled, his clothes rumpled from sleep.
“What?” “We’re leaving.” His brows drew together, confusion flickering across his features.
“…Leaving?” “Yes.” He frowned, his lips pressing together in a thin line.
“What about Theo?” “He’s gone to play with his friends.” I didn’t wait for another question before walking away.
The floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I made my way to the storage room, my mind already racing ahead.
There were still a few things I needed, and time was slipping through my fingers.
I entered the storage room and rummaged through several old baskets before finding what I was looking for.
The baskets were dusty, cobwebbed in places, but the contents were exactly what I remembered.
A wooden bucket with a slightly loose handle.
A fishing rod that had no idea how to use.
A woven basket that was perfect for carrying the day’s catch.
I’d found them werks ago, back when I’d first arrived at the mountain, back when I’d still believed I could learn to fish on my own.
Perfect.
I tucked everything under one arm before heading back, my arms full and my steps hurried.
He had somehow managed to make it to the doorway, his hand resting against the frame for balance.
His head turned toward me as I approached, those sightless eyes somehow tracking my movements.
“Why are we leaving without him?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity.
“We’re going somewhere.” “Where?” “You’ll see.” “…You’re being suspicious.” He said.
“We need to be back before Theo returns.” I replied “…Why?” “Can you just hurry up?” I asked.
He sighed, the sound heavy and resigned.
“…Fine.” A miracle.
Mr.
Arrogant Alpha had agreed without arguing.
No complaints, no questions, no sarcastic remarks.
For once, he was actually cooperating.
We stepped outside together.
Well…
I stepped outside.
He followed at the speed of an elderly tortoise.
His feet moved slowly, carefully, each step placed with precision.
He’d reach out with one hand, finding the edge of the doorway, then the frame of the window, then the rough surface of the exterior wall.
His fingers traced the familiar landmarks, mapping the path through touch alone.
He took another careful step.
Then another.
Then another.
Was he serious?
At this rate Theo would return before we even reached the river.
The sun would set, the moon would rise, and we’d still be standing in the front yard.
I could already imagine Theo’s voice calling out for me, wondering where I’d gone.