“I hear the Hunters are in town.”
A silver-cloaked figure, tracking through a maze of shimmering raindrops and streetlamps. A Hunter? No, it couldn't be. They'd taken their vows, and the Lady Artemis wouldn't make an exception this easily. So, a murderer? Or just a lonely soul. Either way, they didn’t seem to need a reply, and a bus stop is easily big enough for two. Silence, punctuated with sirens and laughter from a party that really shouldn’t be happening this late on a Wednesday night, echoed.
“Well, someone’s having fun tonight.”
If you’d call alternating between Tumblr and lying face down on the floor fun. At least the floor was waiting until after the bus ride, for once. It didn’t matter. One more day, wasted. One more night awake, one less hour until falling down for the last time.
The stranger moved closer. Who did they think they were, anyway? Did they really not know better than to talk into a cavern of self pity, and expect more than an echo back?
“You really don’t know who I am?”
Now that, that’s not the sort of thing you’d say to a bus stop stranger. You’d be implying far too much, far too many promises in far too few words. You couldn’t raise someone’s hopes so high just to dash them with a single joking smirk - or worse, a pinch and a pillow. You’d leave unanswered questions, unsatisfied curiosities...
“Oh, my dear, isn’t it obvious?”
Restless nights spent longing after the pluck of an arrow leaving its rest, the silent, thundering patter of feet snaking through the forest, and… something more. A casual camaraderie between those who knew, the bond between those who had suffered for too long and found peace together. Of course, there were the stories - there were always stories. Hunters who’d risen from pain, moving from what felt so viscerally wrong to something much better. To follow the goddess, would she… no. That wasn’t the way. No matter how right it felt, that path could never-
“Emily?”
A white sea flooded through my cheeks. That wasn’t supposed to happen. That wasn’t the plan. I wasn’t going to think about that. No, no, nononono
“Em, it’s alright. I know.”
No one had known before. There had been sympathy, people who hoped I’d feel better soon, encouraged me to “follow my dreams”, before forgetting anything we’d said the day after. Never an understanding, never an arm or an invitation. I knew what she could offer. Not what she would offer, or even what I knew I would never refuse. Just the possibility.
“Right on time. Are you coming?”
A bus had arrived. Not the 42 out of town. Definitely not the 42 out of town. I think I’d remember if the 42 felt this good, felt so much like… home? Full of smiling eyes on half-shaved heads, unrestrained laughter ready for me to sink into a sea of flannel and longbows.
She offered her hand
and I rose
