Taylor's Time

That's right, Taylor's back with a new post!

Today we return to her WIP, The Last Guardian.

I think she's been holding out on us, though, because the header to this snippet says it's from pages 47-49, and I don't think we've seen 46 other pages from her!

Anyways, here it is. Enjoy!


The artist of this work is the talented Marina Faria Mendes. She is so incredibly sweet and will do anything to please her clients. Please consider her when thinking of your dream sketch, polished drawing or painting.


Healing


Taylor


The soft glow of a fire. That was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. I saw the walls of rock next, stones of every color stacked atop each other, a natural formation. I was in a cave. In the fading light, I saw my Guardian being tended to by a woman with long white hair. She was short, her back permanently hunched and draped in animal skins. The skins, a beautiful dress, and fur lined sweater made from moose hide and bear fur, dragged along the dirt floor when she moved. My back was hot from the flames behind me. I sat up quietly, moving my leg slightly, wincing from the pain that shot up my ankle. My eyes opened wide when I realized that my ankle was wrapped. When I turned, I saw the fire, its ashes rising to the sky. Beyond it were the hazing silhouettes of mountains and trees and a sky made purple by twilight. Snowflakes fluttered in the breeze like feathers before falling to the brittle grass below. I turned back to the walls of rock that surrounded us. We were safe and

we were alive; injured, frightened, weak, but alive. I was warm and covered with blankets of what looked to be rabbit fur, all white. I hadn't a clue what my pillow was made of, but when I lay down again, my body succumbing to exhaustion, I smelled the slumber-heavy scent of the dying winter woods, and fell asleep to the memories of home.


I awoke before dawn. The cave was dark except for the glow of the fire. Jack's was the first face I saw. The old woman lay asleep where Jack had been before. It was clear that the snow had begun to stick, because the floor of the cave was dusted with small white footprints leading to the woman's cot. She must've awakened to place more logs onto the fire.


Jack… Jack was here with me now, warm and dreaming, his whiskers twitching in a way that filled me with affection.


I lifted my hand and stroked his ear, realizing for the first time that I was touching the softest part of him. My fingers studied the curves, the way his ears weren't really floppy, but folded over, the tips curving downward while the rest pointed upward. Jack sighed through his nose as his golden eyes fluttered open. He just stared at me, into my eyes, and as I stared back, I realized that Jack's eyes were not at all like the wolf's. They never would be like hers. Her eyes weren't warm like his. They weren't sunny like his. Her eyes held rage. Jack's held love.


They held me now, those eyes, bright and warm, like my own personal sun in this rising pool of darkness.


"Thank you," I whispered, my own eyes beginning to tear up.


This had been the third time I'd nearly lost him. I couldn't stand the thought. It wasn't that I couldn't take care of myself without him. I knew how to cook my own meals, how to set my own snares, how to tend to my own wounds, but it wasn't about that.


It was about his companionship. It was about the feel of his fur in my fingers. It was about the feeling of security that he gave me, the certainty that I was safe with him. It was about falling asleep to his sunny eyes and knowing that I would see them again when I woke up in the morning.


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