Early evening sunlight streamed down through the breaks in the crown of leaves above the small rustic cottage. Dappled light was cast over the slate roof which grew moss. The two-story cottage house was simple in its design with a large kitchen and dining area, moderate living room, and large bedroom upstairs. Vines grew over the stucco walls and into the cracks of the chimney. The place was crumbling in a charming way and would have looked abandoned except for the young man who stood out front whistling a tune as he chopped wood.
The man was tall and lithe, his body working up a sweat in the light brown tunic he wore, the lacing open to reveal the pallid skin of his chest as he moved. Each swing was accompanied by the tinkling of baubles coming from his tall pointed hat and belts. The wind rustled his long wavy light brown hair and the crows feathers which were braided into it. He paused to savor the breeze then went back to work placing a log then splitting it.
He worked in a steady rhythm. Place log. Hit log. Split log. Stack wood. Repeat. Then, he felt the distant quake of footsteps. Large footsteps. Stepping back from his work, the witch wiped sweat from his face before looking down the dirt path to the source of the noise. Through the trees, the witch could see a large dark figure lumbering through the trees. The creature had long brown fur and was carrying a dead boar on his shoulders as he walked toward the witch's cottage.
"Hello!" The witch called out, running out onto the path and waving one arm in welcome to the creature as its thunderous footsteps grew closer and closer till the witch could clearly see the bigfoot coming his way. Even from a distance, the witch could see a bright smile split the creature's face as he saw him.
"Hello again, Fletch." The bigfoot said as he neared the cottage, the boar now held easily under one arm then tossed beside the ring of stones that marked a place for a campfire. His deep brown eyes looked at the witch from under a mane of shaggy light brown hair, lips curled in a smile, as he then pulled the smaller man into a hug.
"I missed you!" Fletch said as he gripped the creature's fur and buried his face in his chest. The bigfoot was easily a half a man taller than Fletch's own lanky frame and he was far broader. His fur smelled of pine sap and sweat.
"I missed you too." The rumbling voice resonated in Fletch's chest.
"I didn't think I'd see you till autumn!" Fletch pulled back and looked up at the massive creature.
"Usually you wouldn't. Men interrupted my hunting grounds. I had to move on early this year." The bigfoot grumbled as he walked with Fletch off of the path and to the fire pit.
"Damn humans." Fletch muttered." But it's good to see you nevertheless, Samuel."
"It is good to see you too, Fletch." Samuel's voice rumbled like distant thunder. He sat on the ground and it quaked as he hit the dirt.
"I had the feeling we'd need firewood. Couldn't figure out why I'd need to chop so much in the middle of summer, but something told me I'd need it." Fletch began to pile the split logs in the center of the fire pit. "My intuition is never wrong."
"Don't I know it." Samuel muttered, a chuckle in his voice. Fletch gave him a pointed look before going back to what he was doing then lighting the fire.
"I'll fetch you some water from the well. You must be thirsty." Fletch said as he left the bigfoot to gut the boar. He was always one to leave the bloody work to someone else and often avoided meat in his everyday diet. Samuel didn't hesitate in gutting the dead boar and then running it through with a small straight branch so it could roast over the fire. He used the first bucket of water to clean the boar and his hands and then drank the entirety of the second bucket in a couple hearty gulps.
"You know, you've come just in time for blueberry season." Fletch said as he returned to the fireside with another bucket of water. "I can make us pancakes in the morning."
"Yes, in the morning when the hog is done." Samuel said as he looked to the west where the evening sun was beginning to dip and touch the treeline, casting pink and orange light onto the clouds. In the east, the sky was still as blue as daylight.
"For the time being, let us have cheese and wine." He was already walking back toward the cottage. Samuel watched him move and felt a flutter in his chest. The witch was a handsome young-looking man with high cheekbones and iridescent green eyes; not that he showed them to many creatures. Samuel happened to be one of the lucky few. Still, his hat would remain on until dark.
Fletch returned with two bottles of wine, a 3/4th wheel of cheese, and a large loaf of cottage bread. He sat down beside Samuel and offered him one of the bottles of wine and struggled to break the wheel of cheese in half. Samuel held in a chuckle and helped him with that and the bread, taking a larger hunk for himself and giving Fletch the remainder. It would still be more than Fletch could eat on his own. Fletch then popped the cork on his own bottle of wine and sipped it from the bottle without decorum.
"Tonight is for celebrating. To friends!" Fletch called out as he clanked his bottle against Samuel's and took another drink before biting into his hunk of cheese and smiling into the glow of the fire.
"A celebration?" Samuel said, his eyes glittering.
"Indeed." Said Fletch as he looked up at Samuel who was now leaning back on one arm as he drank.
"Then will you dance for me?" Samuel said, a wry smile on his face as Fletch sputtered.
"Dance? Oh, that was one time! I won't do it again." Fletch laughed and shook his head, once again digging into the meal.
"You said before that you only dance for celebrations and what is tonight?" Samuel prodded.
"I said that at the autumn equinox. You can't hold me to that standard." Fletch said, ducking his head and hoping Samuel wouldn't see how flush his face had become.
"I most certainly can and will." Chuckling, Samuel pushed Fletch playfully. Even still, Fletch struggled to maintain his balance and nearly toppled over. "Come now, celebrate with me."
Fletch blushed furiously beneath his hat, thankful for its cover. It was true. Last time they had seen each other had been the autumn equinox and he'd danced naked under the moon. Samuel had just happened to visit on the right night and seen his display, much to his amusement and enjoyment. Fletch tried not to feel exposed. After all, Samuel was nude all the time. Nevertheless, that night had marked a change in their friendship.
"Oh, alright. But I will need more wine!" Fletch stood and gulped down more wine till he'd nearly finished half the bottle. "There we go!"
He stood, wobbly on his feet and then stared at the sunset. The sun was just now dipping below the horizon and casting orange and pink light over the clouds, the sky behind them growing dark. In the fireside glow, Fletch began to sway from one foot to the other. Seeing this, Samuel began a slow steady clap to create a beat for him. Fletch swayed and then fell into a spin, hopping from one foot to the next as he circled the firepit. With each circle he became more bold in his leaps and spins, dancing so near the fire it looked as if it could catch him alight at any moment.
The sun now down and the last vestiges of a red sunset dissipating, Fletch began the slow process of removing his clothes during the dance. First came the knee-high black boots, kicked aside perfectly so they landed at his front door. Then off came the belts which held bottles and trinkets and pouches all filled with various magickal supplies. Tunic now loose, it billowed around him and then clung tight as he moved around the fire.
Stopping briefly, Fletch bowed in a flourish and took off his hat. Iridescent green eyes now uncovered, they glowed nearly yellow in the light of the fire. He tossed his hat to join his boots and belts as Samuel's clapping beat got faster and with a spin, Fletch's tunic lifted from him and drifted magickally over to the pile of clothes. Chest now bare, the sweat of the day's labor glittered in the flickering light. Samuel's eyes devoured Fletch's lithe form, the only clothing remaining his black leggings which showed every curve and contour of Fletch's assets.
Feeling the exultation of dance dash any sense of modesty, Fletch slid his leggings off and tossed them. Now naked, he danced freely around the fire, eyes aglow and long brown hair bouncing with the movement. Once again spinning round the fire, Fletch came to a stop before Samuel and took a final bow. He was breathing heavily, his face flush. Samuel's dark eyes glittered.
