She looked back at the dense forest ten feet behind her. Two hundred yards beyond that was the little village where she lived. The little village were she had been born, the little village where she had made friends and where she had made enemies, the little village that had started all the trouble.
She thought back to yesterday when she and her best friend had gotten into a fight over nothing.
Zamora had been sitting by the fire with her. She'd offered Zamora a bowl of hot cereal she had been cooking. Zamora took the bowl, then handing it back said, "It doesn't have any sweetener in it. You should know by now that I like sweetener in my cereal." Zamora had said this in a teasing tone.
She had been thinking about something else and had snapped at Zamora, not hearing the teasing tone. "Why don't you get it yourself instead of sitting around being lazy." It just got worse from there until they finally stormed off in different directions.
That night she had thought about Zamora, how they were getting into fights more frequently. She thought about how everything had gone wrong, how no one loved her anymore, not even her best friend, whom she loved the most.
Then she had made the promise to herself that tomorrow when the sun was halfway above the horizon she would do it at the cliff.
No one would notice her until she didn't come back before supper from hunting.
Now it was the morning. She looked back across the ocean just in time to see the first rays of the sun pop up over the horizon.
The sun was about a third of the way over when a voice spoke in her head, Why do you want to do that child?
Startled, she looked back to the edge of the forest to see a bluish-green drike.
The drike walked towards her then sat down beside her. The creature was the exact same color as the water she was about to jump into.
The voice spoke in her head again, but gentler. What a shame to lose one so young and so talented.
"What do you want?" she asked, annoyed.
It's not what I want, dear child. It's what you want.
"What I want is to jump off this cliff, right now!"
That is not what you want, child. What you want is someone to love you and make you happy, and you already have that.
She snorted, "No I don't. My parents treat me like one of the dogs that obey their every command or get beaten. My best friend doesn't even like me anymore and the rest of the village could care less."
You are wrong, dear child. Your parents do love you, it's just they way they were raised and they know no other. Your best friend still likes you even if you did get into and argument, and you ary very important to the village in different ways .
"No, I'm not," she shot back.
You are, you have changed every one of them in some little way, whether you know it or not.
"How do you know this?"
Because I have been watching you. I watched as you and Zamora became friends, when you took little Sirus on his first hunt, when you taught Zreek how to swim. And I watched as you and Zamora fought and you made that promise to yourself.
She interrupted, shrieking, "How could you?!"
The drike lashed it's tail out at her, just missing her by inches. Her voice rose, That promise that you did not keep.
She relaxed the muscules that had been steadily tensing. She looked out across the ocean at the sun that was fully above the horizon, not beliving that she had missed it.
She prepared to jump when a soft voice behind her said, "Hermain."
Hermain turned around. Zamora stood between her and the forest.
She saw the look of raw terror on Zamora's face. Her eyes, red with tears she had already shed, flowed over again, one tear from each eye. "Hermain," she said in a cracked voice, "Don't do it. Come back. Please."
Hermain ran to her. Zamora caught her in her arms. The tears fell freely, each one soaking the other's shoulder.
Words came out of Hermain's mouth without thought, "I was gonna jump when the drike came and started talking to me. And I thought no one loved me anymore. And..."
"Shhh, I got you now and I love you. Do you hear me? I love you, Hermain."
"I love you too, Zamora." She suddenly remembered the drike. She looked around.
The drike smiled, as only a drike could smile, and sat watching them. Hermain let go of Zamora, "What's your name, drike?"
Avela, the drike said.
"Well Avela, let's go back so we can get our things to go hunting."
I saw some large bucks near the village yestarday.
The three of them, two humans and one drike, headed to the village as friends to go hunting.