Maea
Blood on my shirt, rose in my hand
'Tomorrow' did not bring about any hunting. It brought rain, a cold and steady downpour that soaked through everything and put a halt to any exploration or search for game. It chased springtime spirits back down into winter boots and shut fae and travelers alike into their huts and houses. Liam left the woods on some errand, and for a few days she was left to her own devices. Feeling restless and out of sorts, her mood grew testy as the bad weather dragged on. Sitting around when so much had to be done was frustrating, and with the turning of days the itch beneath her skin whispered of mounting bloodlust. Dark dreams returned for the first time since Maea had entered the Greatwood, and reached a culmen as a Flowerbirth storm broke out over the village. Wind and driving rain chased the Ancient from her forest camp, her belongings scattering and breaking while the ground flooded.
The tempest broke close to dawn, swift winds tearing the clouds apart and delivered another day of brilliant sunlight to the forest, but for once it did little to brighten her mood. Sodden and bedraggled after the rough night, Maea returned near mid morning to gather up the remnants of her camp. Not much remained. The bedroll and blankets could be cleaned and hung up to dry, but her tent was in tatters and the leather bag she'd carried across all regions of Caido had been ruined by water. Too many pieces of clothing had simply disappeared; the had found the shirt Alys had helped mend in a tree, and thankfully she had been wearing the armored dress, but only one boot had been recovered so far and she was slowly giving up on finding the trousers, and the kettle, and on salvaging the dripping clumps of paper that had once been letters from friends and acquaintances, saved up over two years.
Stepping through the wreckage in bare feet, Maea let out a cry of relief as she spotted a sole poking out from under a greening shrub. Scampering over, the leaned down and hauled out the second boot. Without thinking she held it up in triumph; and squawked as filthy water came rushing out, soaking through all the sleeve that had nearly dried. The sheer amount of water was appalling, and with a disgusted sound Maea tossed it carelessly in the direction of its mate.
At least she still had shoes. That had to count for something – though the optimism was strained, and faltered only a moment later. Gods, what a mess.
The tempest broke close to dawn, swift winds tearing the clouds apart and delivered another day of brilliant sunlight to the forest, but for once it did little to brighten her mood. Sodden and bedraggled after the rough night, Maea returned near mid morning to gather up the remnants of her camp. Not much remained. The bedroll and blankets could be cleaned and hung up to dry, but her tent was in tatters and the leather bag she'd carried across all regions of Caido had been ruined by water. Too many pieces of clothing had simply disappeared; the had found the shirt Alys had helped mend in a tree, and thankfully she had been wearing the armored dress, but only one boot had been recovered so far and she was slowly giving up on finding the trousers, and the kettle, and on salvaging the dripping clumps of paper that had once been letters from friends and acquaintances, saved up over two years.
Stepping through the wreckage in bare feet, Maea let out a cry of relief as she spotted a sole poking out from under a greening shrub. Scampering over, the leaned down and hauled out the second boot. Without thinking she held it up in triumph; and squawked as filthy water came rushing out, soaking through all the sleeve that had nearly dried. The sheer amount of water was appalling, and with a disgusted sound Maea tossed it carelessly in the direction of its mate.
At least she still had shoes. That had to count for something – though the optimism was strained, and faltered only a moment later. Gods, what a mess.
You're looking at me like you don't know who I am
