"Good morning, Grata," an adult Aloy said to the old woman kneeling on the rocky outcrop. "I brought you some breakfast." She speared the dead rabbit on the old woman's cooking skewer, and set the skewer on the racks on either side of the outdoor hearth. As usual, the old outcast said nothing to her and couldn't be bothered to even look at her, continuing her prayers as though Aloy weren't even there. Grata was always praying.
"Thank you, gracious All-Mother, for the gift of another day of life, and for delivering nourishment to an old woman who can no longer hunt for herself. I am grateful for your everlasting generosity."
Aloy rolled her eyes. Sure, thank the nonexistent deity. Not the living, breathing being who did the actual hunting and personally made sure you had enough to eat. Aloy didn't expect much, but just the tiniest bit of direct gratitude would have been nice. The other outcasts, few of them that there were, would at least acknowledge each other in passing. She had even been able to come to the aid of her fellow outcasts on several occasions - she once helped a girl track down her mentally ill brother; another time, she had pried a prized family weapon from the jaws of a scrapper and returned it to its owner. Each had been grateful enough to thank her in person, ignoring the foolish law that said even Nora outcasts were not supposed to talk to each other. Grata was truly an odd one. She was so devout in her beliefs that she would not utter a word directly to another person, outcast like herself or not.
A small part of Aloy was a little surprised that Rost spoke to her at all. He followed all other Nora laws to the letter, but he must have realized it wasn't possible to raise a child without speaking to it at all. The child wouldn't learn to speak for themselves, or be able to follow verbal instructions; simple hand motions would not be enough to properly teach the child how to survive. Now that she was an adult, Aloy wondered what the future held for their relationship. What would happen after the Proving, after all? Assuming she made it across the finish line, she would become a member of the tribe, a Nora brave - but Rost would still be an outcast. That was a problem.
She was jarred from her thoughts by another prayer from Grata, her withered arms outstretched on the woven rug.
"Dearest All-Mother, please keep my prayer beads safe on the overlook. I made the long climb last week to pray in awe of your beauty, but left my beads at the summit. I fear my tired legs no longer have the strength to make the climb again."
Great. Another errand for Aloy. "You don't need beads to pray, Grata." This request was completely pointless. Everything else Grata had indirectly asked for was practical. Food, water, medicine, a new blanket. Aloy was not about to waste her time and energy retrieving some useless beads.
"Loving All-Mother, have I not been steady as the stones in my devotion to you? Have I not breathed your praise with every passing day? If it is your will to hold them in view of your beauty forevermore, then I shall accept it. But All-Mother's tears... they were my birth mother's beads." Her frail voice trembled. "It was all that I had left of her. My old heart aches for them. Please... lend me the strength to let go of my anger for my failing memory; at times, I feel so foolish in my forgetfulness, but I cannot help it. This old mind cannot remember as it should."
Aloy was quiet for a moment. It must be devastating to realize you are losing your memory, but have no control over it. Grata must feel so helpless. If this is what aging was like, Aloy wanted no part of it. She tried to imagine not only losing her strength and ability to hunt and survive on her own, but also the sharpness of her mind. Depressing. At least Grata could still remember her mother. Aloy swallowed hard as the familiar, bitter thoughts clouded her mind; she didn't even know what it was like to have a mother, let alone what it felt like to have lost one.
When Aloy spoke, her voice was soft, and full of respect. "I... understand, Grata. I will look for them."
The old woman stretched out deeply on the woven rug and continued to pray as Aloy walked out of earshot.
"Understanding All-Mother, I am forever grateful for your grace and compassion. May the warmth of your heart-"
Aloy cleared her mind and took a few slow, deep breaths as she walked. Might as well get this over with so she could go on with the rest of her day. She turned in the direction of the rise that led to the overlook Grata mentioned, and took off at a measured pace, her hardened leather shoes leaving wisps of dust in her wake as she ran. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, setting a steady rhythm. Rost had taken her all over the Embrace, and she could run at this measured pace for a long, long time. Occasionally, she tapped her focus to make sure she wasn't running into a pack of scrappers. There weren't many machines in the Embrace that would turn and fight; most herd machines would run when startled. The watchers and scrappers were the main ones she wanted to avoid. They were easy enough to take down, but fighting took time and energy which she didn't feel like wasting right now.
As she passed under the shade of a tall maple tree and leapt over a small boulder in her path, her mind began to wander. There wasn't much time left before the Proving. Although she felt prepared, her stomach was twisted with anxiety. If she came in first place as she had trained to do, what answers would the Matriarchs have for her? Had her mother done something so horrible that the tribe had banished her along with her child? Was Aloy a cursed child born as a result of rape? Did her mother simply not want to be bothered raising a child? Was she alive? Dead? And then there was the Rost problem. How could they be expected to shun each other after he raised her as his own in the unforgiving wilderness?
She eased back on her pace as the ground began to rise in a gentle slope, but maintained her momentum. The sky was bright and clear today; the sun had burned off the morning mist and was beginning to dry out the dew. Her shoes and ankles were wet with it as she ran through the grass. It was going to be a hot day in Mother's Embrace. Sweat began to trail down her spine as the slope became steeper, and her pace slowed to a thigh-burning jog.
Luckily, Grata's prayer beads were easy to find once she reached the overlook. Aloy placed them in one of the pouches on her leather belt, and took a moment to appreciate the scenery from a seat on the cliff's edge. The Embrace was spread out below her dangling feet. The landscape was sprinkled with leafy trees as well as pines, and patches of ruby grass waved serenely in the breeze. A mountain loomed in the distance, covered in snow, with the impossibly large tentacles of a dead machine sprawling in arcs across the sky. One day, she would climb that mountain and see this giant machine for herself. What wonders the Old Ones had created! She could not imagine a machine of that size coming to life. It was terrifying, but fascinating. Aloy couldn't understand why the Nora were so fearful of the ruins of the metal world. Sure, there were things inside that they wouldn't understand, but wasn't anyone interested in learning about the true history of their world?
She sat for longer than she had intended, gazing in wonder at the natural beauty of the world, lost in idle thought. When she drew her legs up and stood to leave, she massaged her rear end; her buttocks had fallen asleep. The tingling sensation quickly abated, and she considered for the briefest moment whether to take the zipline or use her grappling hook and rappel down. It wasn't a terribly difficult decision. The speed and rush of the ziplines were always fun, but Aloy took a bold approach to rappelling that gave her a rush like no other.
Grappling hook in hand, she pounded the dirt and made a flying leap between the V of the rappel anchor, her heartbeat energized as gravity took over. The daredevil twisted her upper body as she fell, swinging the grappling hook up and over the anchor; it caught hold and she hung on tight for the initial jolt as the rope took on her weight. The grappling hook held, and she slid smoothly down the rope, grasping it between her feet to control the speed. She landed lightly - a graceful end to her audacious descent - and moments later, she was back to her long distance running pace, heading back to Grata's hut.