Kievan Rus finished tying the strings and sat back on her heels. "Turn around and let me see."

Yekaterina twirled in a circle for her mother, feeling the new skirt and apron twist around her legs.

She smiled brightly and did it again, just to feel the cloth move around her.

"It fits wonderfully," praised Rus, folding the old shirt and storing it in the clothes chest.

"Now that you're older, you have to help me with your brother and sister, you know."

"I know, Mama," Yekaterina replied, exasperated with the constant reminder. She scuffed her bare feet against the floor pensively.

"Mama, my old boots are too small this year…."

"No they aren't. You just want new ones. You'll get new ones next winter. However, you do need a new scarf since Ivan will be getting yours. I wish he could keep track of his scarves and mittens."

Rus gestured for Yekaterina to sit next to her at the loom.

"What color scarf do you want?"

Yekaterina pursed her lips, trying to think of what she wanted. Mama had a lot of colors because she made all of their clothes with thread she traded for at the village. Trailing her fingers over the red and light blue, she paused on the white, imagining how pretty a white scarf would be.

"White," she decided. Rus frowned slightly.

"I guess you're old enough to keep track of it. I don't want you losing it in the snow and complaining to me about it."

Yekaterina shook her head vigorously. "I won't, Mama, I promise."

Rus smiled and picked up the bobbin of white string. "All right, I'll make it for you."

She set up her loom and started weaving the threads together. Yekaterina watched her for a little bit longer before darting outside to play with her siblings. Ivan was digging in the dirt with a stick while Natalia watched, holding her hand-me-down rag doll by its arm. Yekaterina came up behind them and poked Ivan in the back of the head.

"Hey!" He swatted at her legs with the stick, but it hit her skirt instead.

"Mama's making me a scarf for the winter cause someone lost theirs and Natalia's," she taunted.

He glared at her. "It wasn't my fault. Nat lost hers and I gave her mine. I didn't lose them."

"Well, someone lost them and it wasn't me."

Ivan turned back to his hole. "Go away."

"What're you doing?" She sidestepped closer to him, peering over his shoulder. Natalia took her hand out of her mouth and tried to grab Yekaterina's skirt. Yekaterina grabbed her sister's wrist and pushed it away, not wanting drool on her new apron.

"I'm digging a hole."

"Why?"

"Because you won't play with me, and because you make me play dolls with you when you do."

"Come on, Vanya." She pulled on the back of his shirt. "Let's play. I promise I won't make you play dolls. Let's race to that tree and see who can climb it the fastest."

He didn't reply and she could see the desire to beat her in a race warring with the want to keep digging.

"Fine." He stood up and brushed his bangs out of his eyes, smearing dirt on his forehead.

"Ready? Go!" They took off running, leaving Natalia behind to stumble after them, crying for them to wait for her.

Ivan reached the tree first, but was a slower climber and Yekaterina easily overtook him, sitting on a limb and throwing twigs and leaves at him. Natalia finally reached the tree and tried to grab a branch, hopping up and down with her hands stretched as far above her head as she could reach.

Yekaterina and Ivan ignored her for a while, content to sit in the tree and swing their legs. Eventually, Natalia sat down and started crying. Ivan half-fell out of the tree to get to her and she held her arms up to him so he would cuddle her. He sat down on the ground and pulled her into his lap as if she were an oversized doll, making shushing noises and kissing her cheek.

Yekaterina gazed out at the landscape around them, wondering how a piece of land could also be her mother. Rus had tried to explain to Yekaterina about being a representation of people and land, but had really only managed to explain why Ivan and Natalia spoke differently from Yekaterina. As far as Yekaterina understood, Ivan wasn't speaking a butchered form of what she spoke, but a completely different language.

They all understood each other for the most part, but different words and phrasing sometimes lead to confusion. Yekaterina privately thought her younger siblings should speak her language since she was the oldest, but her attempts to make Ivan speak didn't go well. He had told her that her language was stupid, and for weeks afterwards, he corrected her constantly to suit the way he talked.

Mama had put an end to it quickly and forbade them to annoy each other about the differences.

Natalia calmed down in time for dinner so the three of them walked slowly back home together. Mama had cleaned the house and even started on Yekaterina's new scarf. She admired it on the loom as she set the table, imagining how jealous Ivan would be.

They knelt in front of the small shrine and held hands while Rus prayed to Jarilo for a successful harvest and for victory against her enemies. She struck two pieces of flint together to create sparks as she chanted. A handful of dried wheat stalks was lit on fire and allowed to burn out in the carved stone bowl on the shrine, a token of what would be offered back to Jarilo if he gave his body up for a good harvest.

They ate in silence, and were sent to bed after helping Rus with the dishes. Natalia curled up between Ivan and Yekaterina, one hand gripping each of their shirts so they could not leave the bed without her knowing.