Dragonspeaker: A Dragonslayer Sequel (Reupload)

Chapter 22: Rowan

ROWAN

Rowan woke up to what she thought was the coldest spring breeze she had felt so far. She scowled at the roof of the shelter before grumpily flopping back on the ground, crossing her arms for warmth. I cannot wait for summer.

It was already close to late evening, and while Rowan knew she should've been helping the others, she couldn't bring herself to get up. Her entire body felt heavy - not the physical kind of sickness, but the 'literally everything is exhausting and if I try to do anything remotely useful I can promise it won't be my best' kind of sickness. She had told Cranberry that she wasn't feeling up to work today, which Cranberry was fine with, but she felt like a deadweight compared to everyone else. And I really don't think I deserve a break while everyone else works, but I can't say that out loud, can I?

As another breeze blew into the shelter, Rowan was beginning to wish she had closed the opening with their makeshift door. She didn't think she'd need it, considering it was spring - apparently, she thought wrong. She could've closed it herself, but would rather just wait for Cranberry to hurry up and finish whatever it was she was doing. I really hope she finishes soon...I'm cold and wouldn't mind cuddling right now.

She also would've waited for Grove, but from what she could remember, he was out fishing. Cranberry was likely still in the area, so Rowan was willing to bet that she would be done the soonest. Neither of them had really spoken to her since noon, which was around the same time Rowan had taken her nap. Which made Rowan more annoyed than she'd like to admit, but she wasn't going to say it out loud. They're both actually working, and Cranberry's supposed to be the mayor of the town. Of course they're busy, you idiot.

A quiet, sort of knocking noise caught Rowan's attention - Rowan drowsily got up and peeked out of the entrance, sighing. Please be Cranberry or Grove... In front of her was Thyme, who had a tired expression on his face. Oh well...at least it isn't Camellia.

"You alright?"

She shrugged. "Exhausted, but fine." Taking a closer look at his expression, she could've sworn she saw bags. "I should be asking you that."

Thyme rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, I plan on sleeping tonight." He briefly glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. "Was I interrupting you, or...?"

Shaking her head, Rowan exhaled quietly. "No, I need to do something to take my mind off of the cold, anyways." And self-deprecation. "What is it?"

"Do you mind helping me start the fire? It's not really something I'm the best at, on my own at least."

She frowned, tipping her head slightly. "There isn't anyone else around to help?"

Thyme gave her a wry smile. "Well, Mallow went to fetch Bluebell and Tadpole, and Cranberry said she wanted to speak with Grove in private. Besides us, only Camellia is here at the moment, so I don't think you need to guess why I'm asking you."

Rowan let out a snort of laughter. "Can't argue with that logic. Sure, I can help."

Thyme inched back as Rowan crawled out of the shelter - another gust of wind blasted her in the face, much to her displeasure. Thyme held back a few chuckles, saying nothing. Rowan scowled at him, but didn't think it was worth it to make a retort. She followed him over to where he had started setting up the fire, a bundle of twigs nearby. He sat down, gesturing for Rowan to sit next to him. Camellia, who was sitting across from them, immediately glowered at Rowan.

"I could hear you talking about me, you know," she muttered.

Rowan slowly raised an eyebrow at her, glaring back. "Perhaps you were meant to."