Aftermath

Dee did not return this evening, but a girl called Nya did. She brought a round of bread and a bowl of gravy, cheese and sweet soft dates. She said they were taken from a recent caravan raid and I had to wonder, what caravan. I have saved them for last, to cherish as little treats for the rest of the evening. Dee must have told her that I don't eat meat, since not a chunk of anything was in the rich stew gravy, but both women had admonished me that I had best start.

It all went back to Blackie so many years ago. An uglier tarsk probably didn't exist, but he had taken a liking to me when I was very young, and consequently I had spent a lot of time with a corkscrew tailed tarsk following me around. We spent a summer together, and many days into the cold months as well. It had been cold, so very cold that everything living spent most of the days huddled together just trying to keep warm. Uncle Dray had been travelling and when he returned, he brought many men and their families with him. Our supplies were meager, the last of flours and grains meant to hold us over until the warmth crept over the grass and earth and brought renewal. Yama was determined to prepare enough food to fill all our bellies, and called for the stoutest animals to provide for us. Blackie was one of them. And from that day onward I have learned to survive on the bounty of things that can not speak to you with their eyes. Kohut tried to tell me to thank the animal for what it provided, to ease my discomfort, and I do. I thank them as I cook a meal, as I set it to the table, as I watch others enjoy the fruits of my labor. I just can not partake.

It is now, sitting safely within the wagon, that the little bits come back to me, where the details emerge from the surrounding picture and I can see all the little things that my eyes swept over in search of the more prominent panorama. The air has been warmer than the past few days. Most still wore a jacket, but I hadn't even thought of one once the Brave Warrior returned. He is warm all over, and I felt rather comfortable sitting next to him.. It wasn't until after he left, and the woman as well, that I even realized I had not brought my pelt to wrap around me, hiding my bare legs. His hair is like a dark waterfall of rain that flows over his shoulders. It sets off the tone of his skin, and highlights those scars borne by his cheeks. Her hair, the woman's whose name is Asria I think, has auburn lights that appear and disappear when she turns her head. It is not the chestnut marking of mine, but a redder tint, that sets off her paler eyes. She was nervous, or out of her comfort, but relaxed as she continued talking, much like me. Still, she wore a sorrow so deep it was written in every movement she made. Having lost her mate, and her daughter's father, has left her frozen in a moment of time. She reminded me of a song I had heard a long time ago..

"Fare thee well, little broken heart
Downcast eyes, lifetime loneliness
Whatever walks in my heart will walk alone
Constant longing for the perfect soul
Unwashed scenery forever gone
Whatever walks in my heart will walk alone
No love left in me
No eyes to see the heaven beside me
My time is yet to come
So I'll be forever yours" (Nightwish)

My heart felt like it had fallen to my feet and lay in bottomless waste, when I heard the story of the battle that took her companion. Words become so inadequate then. I was glad that she and the Brave Warrior could share the aftermath. I wondered how many others had fallen victim in this battle, and selfishly I was glad at least one of them hadn't. I don't know if he feels so lucky. She asked me to take care of him. Then she and her daughter turned to find their way back among the wagons. That is when it started...the "oh shit what have I done" feeling. Not one with regret, one with the realization that my dreams had been nothing but sketches on a blank canvas, and it was time to get out the colors.