Get up and wait. Wait some more. Try to sleep. Start all over again. Though I want to leave.. just ride off and search. I cant. I cant leave five little one's.. to the same fate as me. Wondering. Searching. Waiting. I had a bowl of blackwine and sat to my steps. Watching the horizon as the Central Fire rose slowly. The days were getting warmer. The morning chill retreating quicker and replaced by the breezes of tepid air. It was nice.. but it still made it harder to withstand the chill once the warmth went away and darkness blanketed the plains. No amount of fire bowls or lanterns could shake the cold that crept into me. But thats at night... its day now. There is activity to watch ... pretend to watch. There are people to see... but not really. People to listen to.. hmmm sorry.. what did you say? Just going through the motions of living.
I saw the wind that rushed over the plains well before it touched my skin. The blades of grass bending to it's will.. the bosk turning to shield themselves from dust and the wagon coverings rippling as the touch caressed over them. It was then I noticed the feather light pinwheel that preceeded the air. How it floated.. danced.. so beautifully.. as if it was a gift just for me. Before it touched the ground.. the approaching breeze caught it once more and it lifted well up into the Sky. This wind was different... it was hard.. fast... but had a touch to it that caressed my cheek. I had to close my eyes.. breathe deeply... and a wash fell over me.. into my body. Muscles relaxed and my mind.. for several moments was clear.. peacefull. I heard Tarra... my beloved Sister.. Her voice. Comforting and gentle. She told me not to worry. All was good. Everything would be alright. Ohhh how I wished I could embrace those words and hold onto them. Believe them. Yet I am a creature of habit and rituals. And this.. seems.. all too familar.
I wanted to go and see Tarra.. but She had yet to return. I needed to see Her. I needed to slice myself open and let it all pour out. If anyone could make sense of it aside from Seth.. if anyone could pick up these pieces and help make them right.. it was Her. That wind just circled back around and touched me once more. I fell back to the wagon platform and before I could fight... I was asleep. Right there.. right then. I slept the day away.. I know I didnt move because when I woke.. I was still clutching my bowl of blackwine. Not a drop spilled. Damn... She's good, I thought. For the time I was out.. I should feel rested.. but I dont. That wind is gone.. the words are gone... the darkness is returning... it comes with the claiming of night Sky. It always does.
I need a bigger fire. Its getting cold again.
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