When There Is Nothing Left But Love (Ashton And Scarlett)

Nora turned to me and queried, “Scarlett, if we indeed get to go home this time around, what would you want to do most of all?”

What did I want? That question lingered in my mind as I continued trudging forward, deep in thought.

There wasn’t any food I was especially craving. After a moment’s pause, I concluded, “I want to see the person I miss most, give him a hug, and apologize to him face-to-face.”

Nora seemed taken by surprise. Then she curiously pressed, “Is it somebody you’re in love with?”

I gave her a faint smile but declined to reply.

Night had fallen when we finally reached saw signs of human life. The village we’d arrived at was located in quite a rural area of the mountains, and perhaps due to its inaccessibility, there didn’t seem to be many inhabitants around.

From the number of lamps we’d counted shining in the dark, there were probably thirty to forty households scattered throughout the village.

“Let’s find a place to hunker down for the night,” Nora suggested, already making her way towards the door of the nearest cottage.

“Woof! Woof!” A dog suddenly rushed out into the yard and began sounding the alert at our sudden intrusion.

We clung to each other, terrified. Fortunately, the dog was leashed to a rope. It strained against its tether, barking continuously.

The owner of the cottage had evidently heard the ruckus. Out stepped a middle-aged man with tan, weathered skin.

understood what he was trying to say. After a while, Tabitha gasped. “We might have unknowingly crossed the

after peak, hadn’t brought us any closer to home. We’d even gone so far that we were in another

tongue threw us all into disarray. Upon seeing our confused faces, the owner of the cottage seemed to further mistake our intentions. He waved his axe at us threateningly in a bid to chase us

young woman, approximately sixteen years of age, ran out of the cottage just then. She tugged at the man’s

urgently conferred with the man for a while. He then grew noticeably calmer and

a few hesitant motions with her hands in

couldn’t tell if he understood. He did, however, let us into his

walls were caked with soot, doubtless from

sort that farming villages would have used decades ago. The lamp burned dimly at a bare fifty watts, probably to save

a neat stack in a corner. The roof of the cottage was, in fact, a tent stitched

dirt that covered the tent looked sure to be

from a cabinet and

to gesture furiously. He

of us. The food was steeped in chili. Nora recoiled ever so slightly, asking, “What dish

be a starting dish. Shall we try it?” Tabitha exclaimed rather adventurously. She had more of an appetite than the

for a whole day, we dug in rather gratefully. The flavor of the pickled onions, spicy

we’d really tasted anything. The

and his daughter squatted in a corner. They gazed at us with curiosity and awe, mixed with a tinge

to communicate with them. Along with her hand signals, she deliberately spoke a few basic words, emphasizing each syllable

that we were here to borrow a