Done washing the blood off Thame, Aribelle rolled her eyes inwardly at Dru's little speech. There was nothing more she could do for Thame at the moment, so she decided to let his brother sit with him as she did the only other thing that came to mind.
"I'm going to go for a walk. Just shout if anything changes, and I'll come right back," Aribelle said quietly to Dru.
Dru snorted, shaking his head.
"Right, because you care what happens to him?" He sniped.
Aribelle did not answer, choosing to walk away rather than smack the shit out of him whilst his brother lay on his deathbed of blankets in the middle of an unknown forest. She ventured deeper into the woods until she found an elder oak tree, its limbs long and fat enough to lay on, albeit uncomfortably. Hoisting herself up on the lowest hanging branch, Aribelle leaned against the trunk, resting her feet on the branch. She pulled her knees towards her, wrapping her arms around her legs, and laying her head on her knee. Thinking back to the game she played with Thame hours earlier, she wondered if she would ever again have the pleasure of playing another. She did not know what would come next if he died, did not even want to consider a future without his presence in it. Thame had burrowed his way under her skin and into her heart; it would be devastating to lose that man so shortly after finding him.
One certainty she did know was that if Thame survived this, she would let him, and his brother go free. If Thame wanted to stay, it would be his choice, but she would not continue to hold him captive, with or without the truth. And at least letting them go meant she would never again have to listen to Dru's incessant bitching, she thought sardonically. It could also mean Thame could choose to leave and never see her again.
With that dispiriting thought, Aribelle lost her smirk, her expression somber as she bowed her head and prayed to every and any god or goddess who would listen.
*****
Aribelle was running through the forest. The smell of freshly fallen rain and decaying leaves tickling her nostrils. The moon was at its highest point in the sky overhead, bathing the woods in moonlight as she raced towards the camp. Thame was dying, and she had to get to him quickly. He could not die without her confessing that she thought she might love him too. Love was foreign to her, she was woefully inexperienced when it came to matters of the heart, but she could not hold back the words any longer. Thame must know how she felt before it was too late. Her bare feet pounded the earth as she ran, smacking wayward branches from her path.
Her tent sat illuminated beneath the moon's glowing eye. She could hear voices coming from within, talking over one another, deep in a heated debate. The words were not clear, but she could see their shadows gesturing wildly, as their voices rose. All at once, the heads snapped towards the direction of the opening of the tent, as though those inside the tent could sense her presence as she approached. Aribelle swallowed down her trepidation and marched forward with her chin held high and her shoulders back. She could not be cowed by these intruders, no matter how outnumbered she was, she had fangs and claws and could defend herself easily against mere weakling humans. They were in the wrong, in her tent, without her permission. If it was one of her people, they would pay for this invasion of privacy with their life. Tossing the flap of the tent open, Aribelle walked inside, hostile and furious that anyone had dared to enter her domain whilst she was away.
Thame lay on the pallet of blankets, his head propped up on pillows. He looked worse than before; his entire body now covered in a bluish tint. No one else was inside the tent, but Aribelle decided it did not matter if she was delusional and hallucinating. As long as Thame was here, nothing else mattered, other than finding a way to save him. Suddenly, a deep baritone spoke, their voice booming in the tent, startling Aribelle.
"Your fangs or claws,
would give him paws,
and save the prince's life.
Beware the truth,
should you not sleuth,
you'll never be his wife."
"Wife?" Aribelle sputtered. "I have no desire to marry anyone! Hello? Can you hear me? Show yourself! He has not asked for my hand, nor will I offer it for your information!"
When no answer came, Aribelle huffed, flustered at the rhyme. She recited it several times over to herself, trying to make sense of the words, but the only word that kept jumping out at her was the one that implied she would marry Thame. Mayhap she should do some sleuthing to ensure that she never becomes his wife. Thame likely wanted a docile wife who would be content with housekeeping and childrearing, and she was probably the farthest away from being docile than any woman Thame had met before. No, her future husband would have to be accepting of her true nature, understanding of what it meant to be a ruler; he would also have to be funny and charming, easy on the eyes, romantic at times, and willing to teach her about trust and relationships which were the things she was most inept with.
Looking at Thame as he coughed and hacked, wheezing with every breath, Aribelle realized that she already had everything she could want in a husband right in front of her. She had to save him, even if he wanted to leave after he was healed. Goddess, if only Aeson would hurry up! She thought frantically.
"Your fangs or claws," Aribelle mumbled to herself, trying to remember. "Will save the prince's life."
Aribelle walked in circles in the tent, her finger tapping her chin as her mind raced to figure out the riddle.
"Do you mean I must bite or maul him?" She asked aloud, curiously.
Neither of those options sounded like saving his life to Aribelle. Now, if the poem was an instructional guide on how to kill him faster, she would understand why the voice was encouraging her to bite or maul Thame, but it didn't make sense to do either of those in order to save his life.
"Would give him paws, and save the prince's life," Aribelle repeated.
Her eyes rounded, her jaw dropping as the realization hit her. Hope bloomed in her chest, her breaths coming in pants.
A howl rented through the air, alerting Aribelle to Aeson's arrival and jolting her out of her dream. She was still on the tree limb, but night had fallen, blanketing the sky in darkness as stars twinkled down upon the earth. The moon cast a bright glow upon the forest, illuminating her path of golden leaves. Everything was the same as her dream, she noticed, and she broke out into a run.
If anyone could save Thame, it would be Aeson, who had studied medicine for years in Gysodd before coming to Jurot. She had witnessed Aeson stitch wounds closed in seconds, cure illnesses in hours, and mend broken bones within days. If all else failed, including Aeson, then she would do what her dream had told her to--she would bite Thame. She did not know if he would be happy living a life with a wolf counterpart, but she reasoned with herself that a wolf-Thame was better than no Thame and hoped he would see it the same.
She had seen countless people get turned and then turn on Agatha or take their own lives because of what they became. It wouldn't be easy, transitioning into a wolf, or learning how to shift, hunt, or defend himself, but Aribelle was confident that he could. Selfishly, a small part of her hoped that she would have no choice but to save him her way because then he would be more inclined to remain in Jurot.
"I am disgusting," Aribelle mumbled to herself, disappointed in the direction her thoughts were going.
Her tent came into view, shadows moving from the other side of the canvas. She heard people arguing, just like in her dream, only this time she heard the distinct voices of both Wren and Aeson. Both were gesturing wildly, their hands flailing about, pointing fingers in the other's face, and shouting incoherently. Their heads snapped towards the opening upon hearing Aribelle approaching.