A sea otter maiden shielded her eyes against the hot afternoon sun.
Her large, auburn eyes scanned the distant horizon for signs of life.
Licking her dried lips, she sighed heavily and bent down to retrieve a
small haversack off the dusty ground. Shouldering a large bow, she scuffled
down a hillside, raising a puff of dust into the air. Her large rudder like
tail swept in an arc through the dirt behind her as she made her
conclusion. The distant blur on the horizon was, she concluded, some sort
of shade or another, what kind she was not entirely sure. She trudged on,
her arrows in the quiver strapped across her broad back made a hollow
echoing noise about the plain. All was quite to the otter. Every one of her
senses were alert, looking for any other signs of life besides herself.
To keep up with a fast-paced march, she sung a small ballad under her breath, not knowing exactly where she had learned it.
Oh, once where all was dull and grey
A masterful vengeance came to say
Ho hum didly dum, off a'travellin' we go-oh!
With the days bright sun beats down
We raise our heads and sing out loud
Ho hum didly dum, off a'travellin' we go-oh!
Though she did not know the rest, Marena hummed the two verses over thrice. Raising her eyes up to the sky once more, she noted the suns position, verifying her westward course. Above on the horizon the small smudge became more defined. She could make it there by nightfall at the least, and have time to doze for a few hours until dawn. Picking up the pace a little she trundled on, footpaws becoming a grey brown color from the endless plain of dirt.
Before nightfall Marena reached the shelter. It was a tall tree, its seemingly endless branches seemed to reach for the sky. Leaning against its trunk she opened the thin haversack and took out a piece of bread and a canteen of spring water, about one-third of it empty. She had to keep her eating frugal, for the maid did not know how long this plain would last. After she had done with the provisions, she leaned heavily against the wide trunk of the lone tree. Though from afar she looked asleep, Marena the sea otter always kept one eye open.
To keep up with a fast-paced march, she sung a small ballad under her breath, not knowing exactly where she had learned it.
Oh, once where all was dull and grey
A masterful vengeance came to say
Ho hum didly dum, off a'travellin' we go-oh!
With the days bright sun beats down
We raise our heads and sing out loud
Ho hum didly dum, off a'travellin' we go-oh!
Though she did not know the rest, Marena hummed the two verses over thrice. Raising her eyes up to the sky once more, she noted the suns position, verifying her westward course. Above on the horizon the small smudge became more defined. She could make it there by nightfall at the least, and have time to doze for a few hours until dawn. Picking up the pace a little she trundled on, footpaws becoming a grey brown color from the endless plain of dirt.
Before nightfall Marena reached the shelter. It was a tall tree, its seemingly endless branches seemed to reach for the sky. Leaning against its trunk she opened the thin haversack and took out a piece of bread and a canteen of spring water, about one-third of it empty. She had to keep her eating frugal, for the maid did not know how long this plain would last. After she had done with the provisions, she leaned heavily against the wide trunk of the lone tree. Though from afar she looked asleep, Marena the sea otter always kept one eye open.