She let out a deep breath, back arching inwards slightly.
Her eyes trailed over the blanket she had knitted using just her arms and some wool from her favorite sheep. Her lips pressed together as she recalled hazy memories of sitting between her mother's legs as she watched her craft beautiful blankets arranged of many colors. A bead of sweat worked its way down her temple, trailing across her jawline.
She swore she hated working on days like this, but she knew deep down it was a distraction from her unsettling case of wanderlust.
Her mind was roused abruptly from her dream like state, a whistle sounding from the gathering circle outside of her small wooden cabin.
She finished up quickly, leaving the blanket for later work. Her feet led her outside, bare feet hitting the rich soil. Her body was directed towards the circle, moving step by step, but her mind was once again in countries she could only dream of seeing. For now they would stay stationary in books, laughing at her from silky pages.
Her thoughts once again caught up with current time, feet stopping as she came across the gathering of her kin.
They all wore serious expressions. It was almost like they had practiced, they wore them almost too well. Not one falter, not one grimace, just a stern melancholy mask. She tried not to linger on the idea for too long, and focused on the topics that were being passed back and forth in front of her.
She imagined grabbing every topic, looking it over, and passing it along to be thrown around again. Food was an orange ball, unknown visitors was gray, and made up of mist, sickness was purple and sticky, threats were red and sharp, farming was soft yet stiff, and seasons were a mix of them all.
She cursed herself mentally again for not paying attention, but she had heard this conversation a hundred times over.
"We need to draw our attention onto preparing for the dry spell."
"A dry spell is least of our worries; half our people have dropped dead this year."
"It's just a flu, our healers are trying their hardest to help. I agree that the dry spell is quite troubling."
"We should start storing up food; winter will approach quickly after this summer."
Her eyes flicked to the oldest member of their pack, who was chuckling in the corner, hands laced together as she relaxed on a bench, cuddled up in a blanket she had woven a few months prior. Everyone's eyes soon laid on her as she rocked slightly. Her eyes were brown, and slightly milky from something she calls her wisdom layer. She quietly recalled reading about cataracts in a book that was brought back from a visit to the town closest to them.
This old woman was her granny, the wife of the previous leader; he died from a fight between him and a passing group of town folks. The ancient woman attempts to reassure the pack that not all visitors are the same, but they still remain on edge whenever someone passes.
She recollected from a few meetings ago, when the pack leader, her father, brought to everyone's attention, that only the toughest members of the pack were to talk to visitors. The whole meeting had disgusted her, because she knew behind it all, it was just her father trying to tie all of the maidens down, so they don't go and fall in love with some nomad.
The granny opened her mouth, gathering everyone's attention.
"The fireflies will pass, as will our troubles. You must not worry children; our ancestors shall shield our backs from any rocks being thrown."
She smiled softly; her granny's always knew when to speak, and what to say.
"This meeting shall be dismissed until we are all in our right mind." The granny nodded.
She looked around as there was a collection of sighs, and people letting their facades fall.
Her eyes rested back on the old woman, who was motioning for her to come towards her. She quietly made her way over.
The woman had lifted a wrinkled hand up, which she took to assist her with standing up. She swore she could hear her bones creak and crack with every moment. They walked for a while, towards the chaotic river that marked the edge of their territory. The sun was setting along the trees, filling the sky with a purple shine.
"You have to leave this clan, child. It's no place for a child like you to grow up."
She opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted.
"I've seen the way you read those books, and the desire in your eyes, by the time of the next gathering, you shall be free."
She nodded, blinking back tears that enveloped her eyes, covering them with a blurry embrace. She couldn't decide if she was crying because of her granny's words, the fact that she might miss this place, or the horizon finally settling into her grasp.
0-0-0-0
He groaned, collapsing on a rotting log. He let out a small angry cry as he fell through, bark covering him.
He looked down at his feet, where his cat, Happy, had sat down, watching with amusement.
"Oh keep it to yourself, you damn ankle weight."
The cat looked hurt, although it couldn't understand; it could definitely hear the tone.
"I don't even know where the hell I am." He growled, standing up and brushing himself off.
He had realized he had made a wrong turn ages ago, yet he was too stubborn to turn back.
He set down his backpack, looking around for materials to start a fire as Happy curled up on a bed of moss. After a while, he had a fire up and going, and was snacking on some food he had collected from a town he had visited prior.
He stared into the crackling fire, as realization dawned upon him.
It was going to be a hellish long few days.