Silver Moonlight - Chapter 1 First Draft
This chapter introduces the shepherd and his wife a bit. Let me know your thoughts on this first part!
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The moonlight was so bright it threatened to drown the world below in silver.
Everything was bleached of color. The leaves of the trees on the mountains almost glowed like the moon, as did the grass of the fields in between the mountains. In that silver tainted valley was a town, dead to the world as its residents slept the night away. The only sign of life was in the hills nearby. The silver expanse was dotted with brilliant white sheep, the herd grazing in the peace of the night.
The farmer watched his flock from atop the hill, careful gaze combing the fields for any sign of danger.
And in the shadows of the woods below, the only place that silvery moonlight could not reach, predatory eyes watched the farmer.
When she was a child, she had thought people could feel when they were being watched. It would happen in the stories her father would tell her. The hero would find themselves in a situation much like this one, watched from the dark, but they would get a creeping feeling of some kind. They would turn to find the creature that was staring at them and escape their impending death just in time.
It was with age and experience that she learned this almost never happened. The shepherd on the hill did not get some sort of feeling. His hair didn’t stand on end, his heart beat didn’t quicken. He didn’t feel any sort of burning on the back of his head. To him, nothing was there but the night, the moon so bright, stars twinkling peacefully overhead.
But that didn’t leave him helpless or ignorant. His vantage point on the hill was a good distance from the woods where predators hid. If anything came out of the shadows, he would see them with plenty of time to draw the rifle at his side, one of the few in the little town. It glinted at the man’s side, a clear sign of danger to anyone who saw it. Yes, he was prepared should anything come for him or his herd.
He could not sense the eyes on him that night.
It was several hours later that he left the field with the herd, returning them to the farm where they would be safe until morning. The worn gate of the barn croaked loudly, the sheep filing in as they did every night. The man stood to the side, counting as each one passed.
He frowned when the last sheep passed, wrinkled brow furrowed.
He closed the gate and looked over the herd once more, doing his best at another count, only to get the same result.
He was down by two.
He groaned, head hanging in frustration. He glanced back in the direction of the fields, debating with himself. He drummed his fingers against the old wood before letting out a quick sigh.
He walked in the opposite direction, towards a small farmhouse where a lantern still sat on a table on the porch, a blazing beacon even in the bright moonlight. He made sure to blow it out before passing through the front door.
The room beyond was a small but cozy living room, with an old worn couch and large padded chair. A fire was roaring in the fireplace, lighting everything in its warm light. The wooden walls were covered with all sorts of pictures and shelves.
From where he stood he could see the pictures of all his family throughout their lives, babies wrapped in blankets, kids bundled up in winter clothes in the snow, young adults smiling in town. In the middle of them all, above the fireplace, was the family portrait. There he was, a weathered man with white hair and sun kissed skin next to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, a plump dark skinned woman with beautiful bouncing curls and warm eyes. Standing in front of them were their children, a young woman with lovely brown skin and the same hair as her mother, a slightly younger man with dark skin and a broad, crooked smile, and a young girl with pale skin, paler than her father ever was, with her own sparkling dark eyes and flowing black hair.
On the couch sat the same older woman in the picture, her embroidery in her hands. She looked up at him with her beautiful smile.
“There you are. Ready for bed?”
He nodded, wandering off down the small hall to their bedroom. He could hear his wife putting her embroidery away behind him. She joined him in their bedroom once she had finished. By then he had already changed into his pajama pants and was in the bathroom washing his face. Their bedroom was also small, with just the bed, dresser, nightstand, and a few plants. His rifle took up its usual place in the far corner.
“Lost some of the sheep.” He stated into the air. He heard his wife stop moving in the bedroom before continuing with whatever it was she was doing.
“We can go looking for them tomorrow, but I’ll tell you what. They’ll be dead by morning.” He huffed, grabbing the hand towel to dry his face and headed back for the bedroom.
“You know there’s wolves in those woods.” His wife continued as the pair of them got into the bed. He nestled down, but she rummaged through the drawer of the nightstand to grab her hair wrap. “Patty was just telling me how her boy had heard them howling away in the mountains the other night. He was on his walk, you know? Was lucky to get home with the racket they were making. Probably on the hunt.”
“I’vn’t seen a sign of them.” He said with a sniff, earning a credulous look from his wife.
“No? Well, regardless…” She sighed, turning off the light and nestling into the bed with her husband, cuddling close and leaving a peck on his cheek. “I think you should be more careful at night, alright? Just until they move on.”
He watched her closely as she spoke, the slightest of smiles on his face. “Alright,” he said, voice quiet and gentle.
“Promise me?”
“I promise.”
He left a soft kiss on her lips, drawing her closer into her arms. That seemed to settle her, at least for now. She gave a big yawn.
“Alright then. ‘Night, sweetheart.”
They fell asleep then in each other’s arms, the silver moonlight streaming in through the window. Perfectly content. Perfectly loved.
