Hurry!

Hurry! Hurry! Dee was standing outside in the midst of the wagons calling for me, and rather impatiently at that. I had to chuckle, for we both had the same feeling about dung chucking - hurry up and get it over with, the sooner the better. Dee's anxiousness was due in part to the odd character of the sky. In the distance, churning muddy clouds races through the blue, blotting it out completely at times. Above us, as if the Sky itself was shining down in favor, hardly a wisp of white marred the pale atmosphere. That could change so easily, in little more than a few heartbeats. I told her to slow down, even though I didn't want to pick dung while it was raining either. "I have to get Red," I told her. I had made a quick breakfast and woken Red already, giving her a little bit of time to herself to get moving. Things happen rather suddenly around here it seems, and a person's life doesn't have much time to adjust. You simply just...are. Red was officially..ready for dung. I know how it feels to be out there in the massive stretch of fields hunting for things you can not see, but seem to manage to step on more than you would like. That seems to go for the slaves that dot the landscape as much as the dung. Everyone seems to mark out their favorite spots and woe to any interlopers. Of course, as human nature would have it, there are always interlopers. It was obvious that Red was no stranger to dung, which made that part of it easier. I don't think she is used to some of the labor, even if she did think southern women soft. Even my life on the ranch did not prepare me for the harsh realities of trying to eke out an existance on the plains. You have little but your wits and hands as tools. Everything else is born of those things.

Red's temperament has improved, which I am glad of. I wasn't sure how it would be to live in close quarters with someone I couldn't abide. Dee told me it happens, and I suddenly wondered what it might have been like to have a sister. One of my blood. Would we have fought and bickered? Would we have been the best of friends? It probably would have been a little bit of both, if I go by what I have seen and been told. Would that have made me stronger in my convictions and ideas? Already I found that answering the probing questions of others forced me to gather my heart and thoughts into one. I wasn't opposed to it, but found it helpful most of the time. Sometimes, it had the effect of making my mind twist in on itself, but I was used to that.

We took Red to the stream next, after dropping off all the fruits of our labor in the morning. It is not the warm consolation of scented bubbles and heated water when you bathe in the stream. It is life giving arousal that nips and bites at your flesh and reminds you that you must grasp and take living seriously. Nothing quite compares to shedding the scents of labor, even if it is by the shock of cold water. Nothing quite compares to the welcome heat of Lar Torvis after either, chasing goosebumps into oblivion. I had my own little secret pleasure from the water too, that had nothing to do with learning to appreciate the simplest things in life. Or maybe it did.

Red was given the afternoon to acquaint herself with the home she now shared with our growing little family, tucked inside the larger more varied family. I had already spotted her with a few other slaves, and was pretty sure she didn't need my hand to hold, as she had proved that already. I had things to take care of for the Mistress Asria, and while I would have enjoyed the company, I wasn't eager to have her taunting Free Women again. Especially not friends of the Brave Warrior. The lines of my dreams were getting a little more color filled in on the edges, a little more definition, but I had yet to discover what the image was becoming. Dee raced off to her own duties, leaving me with a promise to meet again in the morning.