The Wandering Witch VOL. 2 - The Witchfolk Genocide Arc

12.1| The Kingdom of Gisnell

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N O C T

Four days. That was how long they had been walking in the woods already.

For Noct who had not even stepped a single foot outside the gates of Uldard ever since the moment he was able to remember, this, he discovered, was a new kind of torture for him. Although the thick forest that they had been trekking on provided enough shade from the direct rays of the blistering sun, the heat was still enough to send beads of sweat trickling down the sides of his face. The thief had no choice but to take off his scarf and fasten it around his head in a bandanna. Still, with every exhausted step, it felt like he was slowly being burned over a low fire.

   If he was being honest with himself, the heat might not have been as worse as he believed, if it weren't for the fact that he was not used to walking far distances. Usually, he was fine with it, but not if it took this long. The thief had never even considered walking to be this tiresome before until he started traveling with the witch.

On the other hand, the Snow Witch, Chell, looked as if she was in her natural state. Even when they had both been ambling on the same grassy path that stretched eternally for more than hours, Noct could not see any visible signs of fatigue that marked her impassive face. Even when the heat felt too much, the girl hardly even sweated. He noticed that whenever they travelled, it seemed as though she was in a kind of trance. Chell did not stop to pause for anything unless Noct told her to, and both only took breaks whenever the thief complained that he was too tired or too heat-stroked to continue any further. Whenever that happened, he'd usually be the one to find them a nice cool place to rest for a while, like underneath the shade of a tree or by a gurgling stream. They'd sit down, allowing themselves to be separated by a short distance. Then, Noct would take out the rations he bought from Uldard and offer them to Chell. She would take it with a small nod. Afterwards, they proceeded to regain their energy in an awkward silence that was broken only by the occasional rustle of the leaves or the chittering of the birds.

Whenever this uncomfortable scene took place, Noct noticed something about the witch he was traveling with, and that was the fact that the little miss hardly made any effort to speak to him.

In fact, in the past four days that they had been together, Noct had only managed to hold a proper conversation with her for nine or eleven times. Every one of them had started with the thief attempting to point out a random topic and her ending it with a short and down-to-earth statement.

   And in a monotonous, disinterested face, no less, he thought sheepishly.

Once, he had spotted a small den near the base of an enormous tree and thought it was an excellent way of trying to grab her attention.

"Ah, look, little miss! It's a burrow!" Noct had called out front of her, bending down to point at the hole in the ground. "What animal do you think lives here? A rabbit? A fox? A snake, perhaps?"

Chell's silver eyes flickered over to him the moment he had mentioned his name for her. She had been gazing blankly at the foliage. The thief noticed her hesitate for a split second before she sauntered towards him with small footsteps, halting by his side. She followed his example and looked down at the den.

"... It's a rabbit," she said.

Noct frowned, unsettled by her quick response. "Eh? How do you know?"

Instead of answering however, she raised a bandaged hand and pointed at the opening. Noct followed the direction of her finger and saw that a rabbit head was sticking out of the hole, visibly trembling in fear. It seemed to have been terrified of their presence.