Of Idiocy

[selenias]

Of Idiocy

 

“Lawrence?”

“Hm?”

“...When do you suppose we'll be stopping for the night? I sense rain coming...”

“Heh. Water too much for you to you bear?”

“Don't ask stupid questions. ...I simply don't desire listening to you sneeze all night because of some big-headed idea of yours to keep going in this ridiculous weather.”

His wallet dripped big fat tears as did his ego at her sharp tongue, but he didn't say a word even as she gave him her typical stubborn expression, adamant about everything, and him too busy interpreting her every move constantly to exhaust himself over her newest complaint.

The cart glided over stones in the road, rattling to and fro and shaking the teeth loose in his head. Reflexively, he shifted closer to his companion, so natural was the action that it was hard not to notice as she stiffened and drew away to the far side of the bench—taking the last of the small remnants of warmth between them with her.

“Holo?”

“What?” She bit it out like daggers, and momentarily, he wondered if he checked his reflection, would he see shards of metal embedded in the soft tissue of his face?

“...Is everything all right?” He spoke with caution less she drive the iron deeper; his skin simply wasn't as thick as she may have thought it to be, nor his skull, nor the ribs her tiny fists were driven to aim for.

“No, everything is not all right. You,” she scolded dramatically with a huff, “are being an idiot... Again. It will rain, you know. I am insulted that you would doubt my nose!”

Another bump, and Lawrence tried to ignore the cold air that settled over his shoulders and made Holo look more like a statue of salt than the pink fleshed girl she really was. Eyes red, skin white.

Neither of them would have been so cold, he reasoned, if she hadn't tried to defend her pride like she always did.

But if you hadn't, that would be a reason for true concern, he mused.

He glanced at her, eyes prickling from a fresh gust of air that made his toes curl in his boots and turned his nose the color crimson. He would have wiped it, but it was easier sparing himself the embarrassment that would surely come later.

“If I am an idiot,” he started slowly, “than surely you are not the wise wolf you claim to be.”

It was a skeptical look that he received. “...Oh-ho? Do you really think? Please, humor me...”

“I am a merchant, and you the harvest god of wheat. Tell me... are we both not smart in our own ways? I am good with business–”

“Not always,” she interrupted. “You do make quite a fool of yourself at times–”

“–and you with stalks of wheat in the field,” he continued, ignoring her with ease. “...When the winds blow, do you not know which crops will lay flat and which will be left unharmed? When I make deals with other merchants, do I not know what I have to lose as opposed to what I have to gain in profit?”

She was only momentarily quiet. “...Yes... what you say is reasonable, but—consider this: In my position, would you know the ways of the wheat? When the stalks snap, or when they wither from the heat of the summer, would you know how to care for them as I do?”

“No...”

“And yet I know of your business, and your ways of trade, and the ways of money... What does that tell you?”

He grinned, clapped a hand upon his breast and bowed his head for an effect he knew would shatter her proud facade. “That I taught you well, my apprentice?”

Her fist was not as gentle as his smile, though he'd been expecting it. “You are truly a shameless creature, Lawrence... Truly.” Her voice was appalled, but her lips were smiling. He knew he'd been forgiven.

“And you a wise and cunning beast, Holo...”

Though, you're certainly no demon, no matter what people may claim...

-

She was quiet, eyes unfocused, and then, “...Look up.”

He did, and the first drop of rain of the evening caressed his already mottled cheek.

It came down gently at first, misting the air in fine sparkles against the dark sky as clouds billowed out like smoke from a stove, thick and heavy. It climbed the surrounding mountains, covered trees in a thin silvery veil and left no room to see but what was there beside him: his cart, and a beautiful goddess.


“...You are an idiot,” she said softly, leaning close as the clouds roared above and showered down on them both. “Though do not worry, I do not mind. I'll survive your acts of idiocy.”

Lawrence tugged upon the reins, and his lumbering four-legged beast partner stumbled it's way beneath a grove of pine, droplets from the trees snaking down the back of his neck at the most inopportune times and making Holo's cheeks glow as she laughed at his chilled expression.

“Mm, I shall keep you warm. Though, I do expect compensation in exchange for my offer...”

“Food?”

“That would be unfair to you. I will not take what I myself cannot give.” He watched her in silence.

“...And how am I to know you're not simply jesting?” She smiled pleasurably, robes clinging to her frame and eyes glowing a deep shade of carmine beneath her hood at his words. A gentle laugh escaped her.

“I would not jest to you on matters such as these, Lawrence... I am Holo the Wise Wolf, and I keep my word...”

He knew she spoke the truth moments later when a tiny arm slipped through his, as comforting and tangible as the thick clouds above.