Frieda turned to face towards Cleo, there was a glint in her eyes. Cleo figured out what it was, exhaustion. Frieda seemed to fall backwards in slow motion, Cleo moved in three swift steps and caught her before she hit the ground. Frieda may have been small, but as dead weight she was much heavier than she appeared to be, Cleo picked her up and half dragged her to the side of the road and leaned her against the building.

The villages didn't seem to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened, they went about their routines without notice to the dust billowing through the streets. The chatter was mindless, there was simply a babble going through the streets. Cleo lifted Frieda into his arms and walked back to the forge, if he didn't get back soon the fire would get cold and he would have to start the fire up again. No one noticed Cleo carrying Frieda, they had seen this many times before, so many that they simply saw it as a common event.

Cleo passed by many people he knew, they looked away and took no notice. He walked into the forge and set Frieda down on the pallet, he picked up a blanket and threw it on top of her, he had a lot of work to get caught up on. Cleo began to hammer away at his work, his mind kept drifting back to the monster and the painter, he couldn't get the events out of his mind, it was like an itch that he simply could not reach.

The thoughts of monsters with giant tendrils just would not leave him be, he became distracted in his work. Cleo stopped and looked at what he was hammering, it wasn't what he was supposed to make, it was a sculpture, he looked at the details, it was the monster that had attacked earlier. Cleo examined every detail, this was simply impossible, there was no one that he had hammered this into existence. He put down the sculpture and walked to the sink, he splashed water on his face, he looked into the cracked dirty mirror, his face was covered in soot, he scrubbed at it for a while, the water in the sink was black. After he had cleaned his face he decided to return to work. He walked back to his anvil where he had left the sculpture.

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Author guidance for This story

It doesn't have to be as long as some of my chapters but go wild and know that Cleo and Frieda are friends and Cleo is a boy

updated Jan 10 '10 by psychicrox