Page 35 of Bound

If she’d been alone—truly alone—she would have removed her overalls as well. The morning was nearing hot rather than pleasantly warm, and she did not mind the prospect of a quick swim. But she wasn’t alone, so drenched clothing would simply have to be the price for a modicum of modesty.

She knew better than to ruffle any of his fur when he was on alert, and she waded into the pond with care. Most of it was mud and bits of sand, but every so often a stone would appear, slick and dangerous.

It did not take long before the water was past her waist and it was not a matter of walking, but of swimming. Only one of the grimbles voiced any sort of distress. The rest wriggled their tails and chomped at the reeds with abandon. It was the smallest one that yelled for its mother with near bleats so piercing, she almost winced.

The mother was on the shore, pacing ever so slightly, but content that either Thorn or Wren would sort out her errant offspring.

She made it to the shoal, grimacing at the hints of sand and gravel at the edge. They pushed into her feet and made her scowl as she moved up further into the grasses, the grimbles scattering as she approached. The youngest did not move, fixated instead on its mother and she picked it up with a huff of her own. “Perhaps you’ll think better about following the others, hmm?”

Another baleful bleat and she rubbed at its head before urging the others back toward the water with a whistle and a nudge toward the most stubborn. “Back you go. You’re upsetting Thorn.”

He gave a bellow of his own, their heads coming to stare at him as he took one more step into the water before turning back to the shore.

They followed, far more used to obeying his instructions than her own. The smallest squirmed in her arms, and she placed it down gently to see if it would make the way back on its own.

It wriggled.

Began to dunk beneath the water, but Wren snatched it up again. “All right, then,” she murmured, certain she would end up scratched and scuffed by the time she got it back to shore if she had to carry it the entire way.

But such was the way of things.

She walked as far as she could, looking for areas that were shallowest. But there was nothing for it and eventually she had to swim. To hold her squirming grimble and hope that whatever latent instincts that got the tiny creature to the shoal would kick in again.

The rest made it, shaking and rolling about in the grasses to dry themselves, but she was only partly relieved. It was difficult, and her burden was less than helpful, and she winced as a hoof made contact with the delicate skin of her forearm.

Thorn took pity on her.

He went to the furthest edge he could, and as she scrabbled to make contact with the bottom of the pond—to find her feet and make sure no water was getting in the grimbles mouth. And then his large head appeared. Took the wayward grimble into his mouth and waded back to shore.

Gentle as could be, as he placed it back down.

Watched it scamper back to its mother and shoved its head beneath her middle so it might nurse away the horrors of its self-inflicted exile.

She smiled despite herself. Grateful that more had not gone wrong.

Then her foot caught a rock.

And she slipped. Yelped.

And plunged beneath the water.

It might not have been so bad except the shore moved sharply upward, and her lungs did not seem to know whether to inhale or exhale. And for one disorienting moment, she was not even certain of the way back to the surface.

Hands found her. Strong and determined as they grasped her upper arms and brought her out again.

She gasped. Coughed. Spluttered a little at the unexpected events, only to find herself dragged back up onto the shore to recover.

She leaned over, trying to draw in a full breath, but she must have inhaled something after all because her lungs would not cease their complaints.

There was a hand on her back. Not a paw like she had expected, thinking that perhaps Thorn had come back to assist her as well.

But no, it was a hand. Patting insistently as she curled toward the ground. Until the spasms ceased and she could breathe. Slowly at first. As thought returned. As she managed to open her eyes and turn her head, only to see Braum frowning down at her.

“Are you all right?”

She wiped at her mouth, her eyes, and nodded, doing her best to sit up. Her wings were soaked and heavy. Her overalls clung to her, and she shivered despite the warmth of the day.

“Just lost my footing, that’s all. No harm done.”