For months the only company she could steadily rely on were the clickers on her heels and the bow securely strapped to her back. For months, she traversed the wilderness, wandered from town to town with nothing but a small backpack and a canteen to keep her alive. For months, she felt parts of her self slipping away, the once often jovial mischief that glinted in her eyes had dimmed into hardened irises that scanned the woods like a predator, waiting, anticipating and hoping more than anything that she would survive long enough to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
But her past trailed her wherever she went. The argument she had with Gabriel still fresh in her mind even though the months had trickled by languidly. She could recall with crystal clarity the way the disappointment marred is features, she could remember the harshness in her voice that wasn’t meant to harm, but ended up wounding him anyways. All she had now was the path forward, the future and while before the apocalypse, Camilla would have fully embraced the idea of a grand adventure, this new world had made her become weary, guarded and resentful.
Slowly, as her body trickled back into reality, Camilla’s brain began to process the environment around her. Her ears were the first to revive, acknowledging the voice. Mil. Familiar, just as in her nightmare moments before, but it seemed clearer this time around, too real to be anything other than genuine. Unconsciously, she found herself leaning towards the voice, eager to soak up any comfort she found in the syllables. The steady beeping of a monitor near her was the next sound to permeate her foggy haze. A hospital? No, that didn’t seem possible. All the hospitals she ever came across in her travels were ransacked, empty and utterly void of human life. Her skin followed second as Camilla felt a pair of hands steadying her shoulders, gentle, but firm, preventing her from toppling over. The last, but most certainly not the least was her vision. She blinked once, twice, eyes sore from the remnants of the dehydration. Squinting, she struggled as the light seemed blinding at first, but then shadows began to become recognizable, followed by shapes and a face.
The face. His face. Her brain struggled to find the right words, but the rush of elation, intermingled with relief had rushed over her form and it was all the proof she needed to verify what she was seeing was true. She had found him. Voice hoarse, she spoke —
It wasn’t a question, Camilla had already made up her mind, but it was an answer. All those years spent a part, those months alone, the things she has had to do to survive, the compromises she has made, and even those she has left behind. Every single struggle, every scar, every fight, every day spent fighting for her life, all of the pain she experienced, it has been resolutely and irrevocably worth it in this moment. Her answer was him.
Without thinking, she had already thrown her arms around his shoulders, hands trembling but assured, she pulled him closer to her. He might not have wanted the contact, but in that moment, Camilla didn’t care. She needed this, more than she needed air to breathe and even if he ultimately ended up pushing her away, she was going to absorb as much of him as she could in these few moments.
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