Searching for Amarillo Pt. 02

Searching for Amarillo, Pt. 2

This story is about two characters I created in an earlier story called Chasing Fairies. However, armed with the brief summary below, you should be able to enjoy this story without needing to read those earlier stories.

Summary: In Chasing Fairies, a jilted bull rider from Texas escapes to a remote cabin in Norway with a broken heart. There, he meets a forest spirit known as a Huldra. They spend a night in the forest, and she manages to heal his broken heart. He asks her name, but she refuses to tell him, so he call her Amarillo, after his favorite country music song. In turn, she calls him Texas. She tells him that a Huldra and a human cannot have a life together, and she returns to the forest the following morning. In Searching for Amarillo, Pt. 1, Texas returns to Norway to search for Amarillo, but his only clue is to look in a tween place, somewhere between one place and another. Texas gets trapped in a snowstorm, and is rescued by Amarillo. They spend an erotic day together at the remote cabin, where he learns about Norwegian food and customs. This story picks up the following morning.

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CHAPTER 2-1 - Cowboy coffee

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The first rays of morning sun entered the cabin and I rolled over to look at Texas. My movement must have stirred him. He opened his eyes and smiled back. I rose up onto my left elbow, stretched out to kiss Texas quickly on his lips, then reached beneath the blanket in search of his cock.

As I wrapped my fingers around it, I marveled at how soft and flexible a cock can be, at least at times. A little rubbing and squeezing soon changed that.

"I think your recovery from the snowstorm is progressing well, but we should probably test your cock one more time to make sure it still works."

Texas smiled and questioned, "Just one more time?"

"For now," I replied. I have not told Texas that I must leave him today, but as warden of the forest I must look after the trees and animals. The same as I told him last fall, a Huldra and a human cannot have a life together.

I rose to a kneeling position next to Texas and pulled back the blanket. His cock had grown, but I knew there was still more work to do. I licked my right hand, from heel to fingertip, then repeated with my left. I used my hands to surround his cock. With the added moisture, I was able to twist my hands around him as I stroked his cock, drawing my hands up and down the entire length of his shaft.

I looked at Texas, ran my tongue over my lips, and said, "It looks like your cock is waking up. I hope you're having as much fun as I am."

Texas didn't reply, or couldn't reply, his open mouth and glazed eyes speaking for him. I leaned further toward him, extended my tongue, and it touched the head of his cock. Picking up a strand of pre-cum, I pulling back slowly, allowing it to stretch out before snapping back.

I kept stroking, and said to Texas, "I love how your cock feels as it slips through my hands." Texas began breathing harder. My hands were slowly drying out, and I could tell as the friction was increasing. It was time to fix that, so I pressed a wet tongue against his cock, just below his head, and drew it up and away. I looked at Texas and watched his chest heave, then went back three more times until the head of his cock glistened, and my saliva trickled down his shaft.

My hands grasped him again, spreading the new moisture, and Texas moaned. I said, "It looks like you like that," then exhaled strongly, took in a breath, and added, "I like that too." I began making a series of soft coos and moans of anticipation. Texas began pushing upward with his hips, so I softened my grip and let his movements combine with mine.

"Do my warm, wet hands feel like a tight little pussy, pressing and squeezing your cock? Would you like to sink your cock into the real thing?" Texas had his tongue hanging out of his mouth and nodded yes. My hands moved faster, and I stroked him with more intensity.

A ribbon of cum shot into the air, barely missing me, as his cock throbbed in my hands. I kept stroking and four smaller loads of cum gushed from his tip and slowly ran down my hands. "I think we can say that your cock has recovered and is working as expected."

We cleaned up and I tended the fire, while Texas prepared what he called an American breakfast. Fried potatoes he called Home Fries, along with bacon, eggs, and toast cooked over the fire. He also made his famous cowboy coffee, slowly adding cold water down the spout of the coffee kettle to sink the grounds. It is quite fun sharing our different cultures.

I had to tell Texas, and now was as good a time as any. "I must return to the forest today, and watch over it. I will need to leave you again."

He looked shocked. "I came all the way to Norway, and we were only together for one day?"

I expected his disappointment. "I told you, that a Huldra and a human can never have a life together. It is my duty to care for the forest."

Texas pleaded, "Won't you give me just one more day? The guide who rented me the snowmobile recommended a concert in a small-town east of here. I know you like music and creativity. I was hoping to surprise you by taking you there."

Texas looked so sad. I gave in. "Very well. I will go with you today, but you must let me return to my forest tomorrow."

"Every day with you is priceless, Amarillo. If we must part once again, then let us make the most of today. We'll take the snowmobile to reach my car."

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Chapter 2-2 - The Snowmobile

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Texas removed a snowmobile suit from a cloth pack, and told me, "I guessed at your size. I hope these fit."

It looked big, but I replied, "It will work."

We both dressed in our suits, put on helmets, and went outside. Texas stowed his backpack in the snowmobile, and we climbed on. I wrapped my arms around Texas as he started the motor, and I could feel the vibrations beneath me. We started moving and I jerked backwards from some invisible force. I closed my eyes and hugged Texas even tighter.

As we traveled, I began to feel familiar motions, different, yet similar to when I ski. I opened my eyes and peeked over his shoulder, looking ahead as we flew over the snow. I began to anticipate when to lean and started to enjoy the ride. We passed through a section of old forest, where the trees were larger and further apart.

Leaving the old forest, Texas stopped the snowmobile near red barn and turned the motor off. He opened his helmet and said, "How are you doing?"

"Better," I said. "I am getting used to riding this snow machine."

"We will be following an unplowed road up ahead. It goes through tightly packed spruce trees where the branches reach across and almost touch each other. It seems so ancient and dark and primeval to me."

I looked ahead, and saw where Texas was going to take us. "Texas, that is a spruce plantation planted by man. There is nothing ancient about it. All the trees are the same height, all the trunks are the same size, and soon, all of the trees will be cut down."

I continued, "We just left the oldest part of the forest, what you might call the heart of the forest. The trees are different sizes and shapes, and there is room between them. There are incredibly old trees and very young trees, and all ages in between. There are also dead trees, where animals and insects make their homes. The old forest is full of life and energy. There is very little of either up ahead."

Texas looked at me, "I never thought of it that way before, but I suppose you are right. Even in Texas, the birds and animals live along fence lines and windbreaks rather than in the middle of a planted and mowed pasture."

We took the snowmobile through the spruce plantation, and it was beautiful in its own way. We made it down the mountain to where his auto was parked, then began driving east, neither of us knowing exactly where we were going. Passing through a small town, Texas was able to pick up a cell phone signal, and it showed the route to the small town of Ål.

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Chapter 2-3 - The Tuntre

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We drove into the town, and I marveled at all the buildings, the colors, the people, and the many cars. Then I felt something odd. Texas followed the flow of traffic around a small circle, and I yelled, "STOP THE AUTO!"

"WHOA! What's the matter?" yelled Texas as he applied the brakes.

"There! Look there! It's a Tuntre!" I jumped from the auto amid the traffic, and told Texas to find a parking place and meet me here at the circle.

Within the circle was a large and very old Ash tree. I climbed over piles of plowed snow and approached the tree. I tried to wrap my arms around the tree, but the trunk was much too large. I did my best to hug the Tuntre.

"Hello Tuntre," I said silently in my mind.

The Tuntre silently replied, "Hello Huldra. It has been a great many years since I spoke with one such as yourself."

"It is good to see you Tuntre. Tell me your story."

"Very long ago, I was a young tree in the middle of the forest. Farmers came, and cut down many trees for their fields, but they showed me respect, and left me in the middle of one of their fields. The farmer would come and rest under my shade after working on his fields, and his children would play beneath me and climb my limbs. I missed the other trees, but it was a happy time."

The Tuntre continued, "More people arrived, and a town was established. The town needed roads, and one led directly to me. But they showed me respect, and made the road go around either side of me. They established a park with a bench, where people could come and sit. More and more people came, and the town grew even larger. More cars needed to use the road, and so they made it wider, taking away much of my park."

"More trees in the nearby forest were cut down to build homes and keep the people warm. As the number of trees diminished, the forest no longer had enough energy for a Huldra, and one day, she was gone, along with the rest of the trees. Now I am alone, the last remnant of my forest, and few people today even remember what a Tuntre is."

It was such a sad story. I began crying, and the tears rolled down my cheeks and landed in the snow.

"It is winter, Huldra, and I have no leaves. If I had one, I would shed it along with your tears."

I reached up and pulled down one of the Tuntre's branches. At the tip was a tiny bud. Cupping it between my hands, I breathed into my hands, giving the bud my energy, and a green leaf sprouted.

"Thank you Huldra. I cannot spare what little energy remains within me to keep your gift green until spring."

"I ask you to keep it green for one day, to honor the trees that have been lost forever."

"I will do that for you, Huldra."

Just then, Texas caught up with me. "Why did you stop here, Amarillo?"

I looked at Texas, "This tree is called a Tuntre. There is an ancient tradition in Norway, stretching back even before the age of the Vikings, and it is still honored by a few people today. A sacred tree is planted in the middle of a town to remind us of the cycles of the seasons. The tree seems to die in the winter, but comes back to life in the spring. Many farmers also plant a tree in the middle of their fields. But sadly, both the tradition and belief are fading away."

I continued, "These trees provide a direct connection to the nature spirits living inside and beneath it. The people here cared for this tree at one time and showed it reverence. As a result, they prospered under the protection of the guardian spirits and enjoyed good fortune. But now, few people remember. This tree is the last one left from the original forest that stood here ages ago."

Texas said, "We have a similar tree back in Texas called the Treaty Oak. It is the last of a grove of 14 trees called the Council Oaks. Native Americans considered the trees to be sacred, conducted ceremonies beneath them, and signed treaties there. But the last Treaty Oak almost died when someone poisoned it. Native Americans, white witches, religious leaders, and the whole community came together and tried to connect with the spirit of the tree to transfer energy to it and heal it. Against all odds, the tree survived. It is now a symbol of hope and resilience, of strength and endurance, inspiring all who see it."

The Tuntre silently said to me, "A symbol of hope and inspiration that brought the whole community together. I like that, Huldra. He is a good man."

I replied, "I know Tuntre."

"I will keep the leaf you gave me green, for as long as I can. Many thanks to both yourself and to the man."

I said, "Goodbye, Tuntre. I hope we meet again."

I looked at Texas and took his hand in mine. "The Tuntre says he likes your story. We can go now."

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Chapter 2-4 - Dansende Fe

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Texas said to me, "One thing we have to do is find a hotel so we can spend the night here. I promise I'll have you back in your forest early tomorrow morning."

As we walked around the town, we passed a small hotel. I got excited when I saw the name on the sign, 'Dansende Fe'. "This is the place!" I yelled. Texas asked me why I picked this particular hotel.

"Dansende Fe means 'The Dancing Fairy'", I replied with a smile. "What place could be better!"

We entered the small lobby area and went to the check-in desk. Luckily, they had one room available for tonight, but it would not be ready until later today. But we also received some bad news, and were told that the concert was sold out for tonight. The clerk suggested we go to the amphitheater anyway, as it was worth the visit, and we might hear some of the musicians practicing. He gave us a few simple directions and we began the short walk.

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Chapter 2-5 - Broken Strings

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Arriving at the amphitheater we saw a woman outside clearing a bit of snow from near the entrance. She said we were welcome to go inside and look around, but must not touch any of the instruments. Passing through the entrance, we walked toward the stage. It wasn't wooden, it was made of ice!

"Hei!" shouted a man near the stage. I replied in Norwegian, and asked if he knew English. "Come on over," he said in an accented English.

Getting a closer look at the stage, there were many odd-looking instruments. Most were clear, and looked to be made of ice. I asked him, "Is everything made of ice and snow? Even the instruments?"

The man introduced himself as the concert leader, and he is also a musician. "We designed this venue, so it requires no permanent structure. When the concert is over, it will simply melt back into nature. The seating has a slight slope so that the heat from the audience rises up and escapes, rather than affecting the instruments. Because the instruments are made of ice, we must keep the stage area as cold as possible during the show."

He continued, "As you can see, all of the instruments are constructed of ice. We use lake ice for many, but for some, we get ancient ice from a glacier. Man-made ice has too many bubbles, which can deaden the sound. We use chainsaws, hammers, and chisels to shape the instruments. For percussion instruments like the xylophone, we can shape and tune the bars to surprisingly precise notes."

As Texas and I glanced at the stage, he pointed out a xylophone, hanging chimes, a guitar, two violins, an ice trumpet, an ice harp, a saxophone with two openings, and several odd-shaped horns. The creativity was very impressive.

He resumed, "I like to challenge musicians to make new instruments that might not sound exactly like they are used to. Ice instruments have a softer sound and less resonating space, so we use microphones with all of them. During the concert, the musicians take turns playing, rotating off stage so they can warm their fingers. I do hope you enjoy the show tonight."

"We just stopped by to look. We got here too late to get tickets."

"I am sorry, but we are sold out. Lots of people have asked me just today, but we can only fit so many into the amphitheater. We do this every year, so I hope you can come back next year."

He excused himself, and we strolled among the odd instruments, being careful not to touch any of them or to trip over the many wires. Texas and I approached a musician holding what looked to be an ice guitar.

Using English, he said, "Hello! I heard you talking. This is an ice guitar I made. The body is ice, but the neck, fingerboard, tuning keys, strings, and bridge are from an ordinary guitar. Once we create the body, we chisel out the attachment points and use water as our glue. But I broke a string last night, so you won't be hearing me play this tonight. I prefer old-fashioned gut strings instead of synthetic ones, which I find too plasticky and thin. Gut strings have much better resonance, but there are none to be found anywhere around here."

Texas told him, "I'm a traditional cowboy guitar player from Texas, and I agree with you about gut strings. That's what I use. I have extra strings here in my backpack. Which one do you need?"

"I need a 'D' string."

Texas dug into his pack, found the string, and handed it to the musician. We watched as he carefully put it on the ice guitar and tuned it.

"The challenge with ice instruments is that if you tighten the strings too much, the whole instrument could crack or explode. Another problem is the audience. All those people breathing means the temperature rises, so the strings soften and go down in pitch. That's what happened last night. I tried to make a small tuning adjustment and the string broke. I really do appreciate this. Why don't you sit down and try it out? Just be careful, it is made from glacial ice, very dense, and weighs nearly 10 kilograms."

What a treat this was going to be for Texas. He looped the strap over his head, but the weight must have surprised, so Texas balanced the ice guitar on his knees. Texas then played a short melody.

"Compared to my old wooden guitar, I'd say the sounds are sharper and brighter."

"You play well, and you have a good ear. Ice doesn't absorb the vibrations as much, and surprisingly, the sound gets sweeter the more it is played, like with wooden violins. Something with the way the ice crystals are formed."

I had to add, "He is a real cowboy from Texas and sings really well. American country music songs."

The musician said, "Thank you so much for the guitar string. How much do I owe you for it?"

Texas responded, "No charge. It was worth the price of the string to get a look at these ice instruments and play one."

The musician said, "I hope you enjoy the concert tonight."

I replied, "We would love to be here, but we don't have tickets."

The musician replied, "I was saving two tickets for some friends, but they cannot make it. Would you like to use them?"

Texas and I harmonized our reply. "Of course!"

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Chapter 2-6 - The Disappearing Huldra

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Texas and I walked back into town, hoping to find something for lunch. Texas wore blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat. I had on my long flowing white tunic with puffy sleeves.

"People are staring at us, Amarillo."

"We look different than they do, Texas."

Texas turned his head and looked across the road. "Let's see if we can fix that." We headed for a shop selling outerwear. "We need to buy you some clothes like the other women are wearing."

"But I'm not like the other women," I replied with a grin. "But I understand. I will be like the mountain hare, who wears a brown coat in summer, and a white coat in the winter. I will blend into my surroundings."

I picked out a bright and colorful Norwegian wool sweater from Dale along with matching hat, and added wool trousers. I also picked out a white ice-wool scarf with different colored flecks woven into it. I know nothing about the brands, but the clothing seemed well made and fit me well. Texas decided to stay as he was and accept the stares. I admired him for doing so.