“That’s weird.” Is the only contribution I have for now.
“So are witches.” Meds points out and I smile at that, breaking the strained moment with a little affectionate teasing of our kin, and it reminds me of my missing mate. Sierra and Colton do have their own special charms but yeah, at times they can both be weird. There’s no getting around that fact at all.
“So, we’re looking for a bird version of a spooky cat lady, who has a fondness for living in woods, despite being right near a town? Is she old, young…? Eats children? Do we need to crumble breadcrumbs along the highway in hopes of accidently falling upon her gingerbread house?” Carmen quizzes with a deadpan tone and a serious expression that somehow amuses me, despite her lack of emotion. This time I do laugh out loud, at the girl’s dry humor that I never realized she even possessed. A childhood visual of the old witch from the library Hansel and Gretel book pops into my head and only increases the giggles I exude.
“I hope not, I’m barely grown, and she might add me to tonight’s menu. I’m too big for an oven!” I point out between snorts of stupid laughter and Meadow caves and starts sniggering too, lightening our whole mood. I guess the tension and the heavy weight of this journey has us strung out enough, that even a lame joke like this has enough power to break the strings and have us erupt. It’s needed, between us, this bonding over awful jokes.
“She’s immortal, and powerful…. if that was me, I would make sure I look forever young, or at least make enough anti-wrinkle cream to stall time for a few centuries.” Meadow is the first to calm back to a straight face, wiping her eye where a tear had formed, and she snuggles up beside me once more in this new less hostile atmosphere.
“Yeah, but three thousand years? I’m sure even the strongest Botox is going to struggle with that timeline.” I point out, thinking back to Meadow finding an article about Botox and humans preserving their youth some months back. She was unimpressed with how vain she considered humans to be and the extreme measures they would take to fight the aging cycle. Easy to judge when wolves literally don’t age like that, and we stay healthy and youthful until we die. We reach adulthood, sort of around the looks of a thirty-year-old human when we get to that age and then we stay that way.
“Um Meadow…. Luna Alora, um …. look.” Carmen draws our attention up into the sky over our head with a pointed finger up at the windshield and it’s hard not to miss. The unmistakable flock of large black birds flying level with us, at our speed, even if they are like thirty foot up above us.? “That has to be a coincidence, right?” She murmurs and throws us a highly doubtful eyebrow rise that is matched with our own falling expressions.
“I don’t believe in coincidences.” I point out, casting my mind back to a certain forest that led me East so long ago. The fates always find a way and this time, it’s ravens.? “Follow them.” I command surely, a wave of excitement tremoring deep in my belly that this has to be a sign that we’re on the right path, but Carmen looks a little unsure, glancing to me and the window back and forth with hesitation under that etched brow of hers.
“I don’t think we can! I think they’re following us….. do we stop? What do we do?”
“No. Stick to the route. Maybe they’re just keeping tabs for now.” Meadow at least seems surer and I’m glad I’m not the only one who is a little freaked out about our escorts appearing as we discussed them. How did they even know? This has to be in connection to the witch and the fates have to be playing along. It’s all too coincidental!
“Sierra said she’s powerful, right?…. Witches can be seers. Maybe she knows. Maybe she already knows we’re here and we’re looking for her?” I query and clasp Meadow’s hand unsurely, nerves hitching in my chest, my breathing becoming labored as my palms get clammy and I stiffen all over. I catch Carmen out of the corner of my eye taking a steadying deep breath to reel her own emotions back to calm. Anxiety filling the air around us as we all fall somber now that we’re faced with the possible next step of our task. So much is resting on us finding her and I can only pray she is as approachable and willing to help as Sierra thinks she is.
“Guess we’ll find out soon enough, Chicas. I hope Sierra is right, and this is a friend, not foe. Else we drove ourselves hundreds of miles, just to become crow food.” Meadow doesn’t seem so sure now either and I know the witchy side of Sierra and Colton is still something she isn’t sure of. She admitted to me a while back it unnerves her, makes her mistrust on some level. This power, these abilities, and she gets nervous around them when they glow blue because it’s not something she has ever lived around, even before she came to the mountain. It’s sweet in a funny kind of way but I get it. She relies on the physical attributes and her steady strong wolf self. Magical, almost mystical powers, freak her out.
Carmen gasps and jolts us slightly with a swerve as a huge black raven drops right out of the sky without warning and almost collides with our windshield at the speed we’re doing. She slams on the breaks impulsively, gritting her teeth and clenching the wheel, throwing us forward in her emergency stop that almost ends with me face bashing the dash and saves the shield from eating crow ass by mere millimeters. The damn thing casually lands on the bonnet, turns to us, and pecks the glass nonchalantly before flying to our right and taking off again in some snarky, sassy, crow manner, that screams of smug attitude. The little asshole practically smiled at us!
We all turn, bug eyed, mouths gawping, and watch where it goes and then crap ourselves and almost die of simultaneous heart attacks. Squealing in unison like feeble girls, as the entire flock of black ravens shoot right across the truck, like a black swipe. Skimming the roof, blocking out the light, and windshield, so we’re drowned out by a bizarre loud noise of beating wings and zooming air, impossible to ignore.
Visually we follow it to the right, exposing a very grimy, overgrown, and barely visible dirt road between unkempt trees. Almost obediently we all crane our necks to stare at the dense undergrowth in stunned silence. Poised and watching as we all attempt to calm our breathing and ponder what this just meant.
“I think we follow the birds now?” Meadow points out, clutching her chest and fanning her face to recover from the heart failure we all experienced. “Those damn birds, I swear if I catch one, I’ll wring it’s scrawny neck for scaring us like that.”
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