Finding Courage (OPEN)
Mar 28, 2012 4:45:11 GMT -5
Post by ziodyne on Mar 28, 2012 4:45:11 GMT -5
KATRI DUNBRYLL
The weather that day was messed up. It was sunny, but the wind was blowing so hard that the cold bit at Katri's cheeks. Her pale, numb hands were clasped together, trying in vain to draw warmth from each other. Her oversized jacket, once her brother's, was flapping around her thighs in the unforgiving breeze.
If Katri was thinking rationally, she would scold herself for being out in weather like this. She was needed back home, by her useless mother and drunk stepfather, most of all by her younger sisters. Food was scarce; they were all going hungry.
Instead, she was here by the fence, staring out at the meadow and the forest. She couldn't bear to see her family's pained, hungry expressions, her sisters' chalky, colorless cheeks. Katri and her brother, Aiden, had gone for two days without dinner so they could eat. . . still, it was hardly enough.
Me and Aiden, she thought.The breadwinners of the family.
A split second after she thought that, she shook it off. No, only Aiden was the breadwinner. He worked in the mines all day long while their idiot stepfather drank his existence away. All Katri did was plod around, doing chores.
Why am I still the one doing chores? Ottilie and Pleione are old enough. When I was their age. . .
She stopped herself. Complaining was bad. There were hundreds of Seam residents worse off than she was. It would be selfish of her to think that.
But still. . .
She sighed and looked out at the horizon. Katri's lips were dry and chapped, her stomach was growling, screaming for sustenance. Any sustenance.
I wish Aiden was here. . .
At the thought of her brother, an idea struck her like her stepfather when he was drunk and angry and wanted to take it out on her. She still had the scars from his beatings.
I should be helping Aiden.
Her eyes instantly traveled to a nearby tree. It was dead. It's been dead for as long as Katri remembered. But it was what was hidden in the tree that mattered to her. Something she hid in there when she was twelve, after shooting her first bird.
Maybe. . .
She cautiously approached the tree, unsure of her idea. Kneeling down beside it, she heard a little voice in her head screaming at her to stop, this is wrong, you'll be punished if you get caught.
She ignored the voice and reached her hand under one of the roots, knowing there was hollow space underneath it. After feeling around, she felt it. Rough, splintered wood, carved into a curved shape.
Katri hesitated, but finally pulled it out.
Her bow. Amateurly made, but good by that standard.
Her hand made another trip inside the hole and returned with five arrows, wrapped carefully in leather and bound by string.
Holding her treasures tenderly in her small, rough hands, she looked back over the fence. Suddenly the wind wasn't cold, but inviting. Calling her, persuading her to break the rules for the sake of her family. For the sake of her brother.
Should I. . .?
