Wilamos looked up at the hooded figure that had just saved him. Besides his rough yellowed hands, no part of the figure’s body was visible. A thick brown cloak was drawn over his head, concealing everything but his extraordinary size—at least a head taller than Wilamos, and Wilamos wasn't short.
“Thank you for saving me,” Wilamos ventured.
The figure nodded.
“Silent mysterious type, are you?”
“Yes.”
Wilamos frowned. “Seen any goats?”
“No.”
“Got a name?”
“Tauros. Come.”
Tauros led Wilamos to a small cave nearby. Before they stepped inside, he grabbed a bundle of sticks off the ground and tossed them into the cave. He placed his hand inside into the bundle and snapped his fingers, making sparks. The twigs soon caught fire, lighting the interior of the cave.
“Come. Sleep,” he said.
—
The next morning Wilamos woke up and saw Tauros tending the dying fire. He stretched uncomfortably.
“Thanks,” he said.
Tauros turned to him and nodded again.
“My goat ran away. I’m going up the mountain to find him.”
“Same.”
“You’re looking for Chapelle too?”
“No. Just up.”
“Up?”
Tauros pointed in the direction of the mountain’s peak.
(continued in The Twins)
This post has been edited by Pallas Athene: 27 December 2016 - 11:43 PM