457 Words. Dated to Nov. 13th.
The distracting locks were becoming a nuisance as she struggled to tame them. But a crafty solution was soon found. The woman held her hair back as the smoking coyote brought his arms around her head, after his odd looking (and smelly) rolls were stashed away. She wasn't put off by this sudden invasion of personal space, for the male looked and felt harmless. As if in the presence of a sibling, she felt strangely at ease. And with his scent drenched of the Ichikan land, she was assured there was nothing to fear of him.
Her rebellious locks now securely fashioned, she smiled wagging her tail in thanks. "Thank you. I suppose if I am to be your neighbor I'll have no reason not to return this." Motioned to sit, she took the invitation without complaint beside her pile, folding her legs beneath her to keep herself upright. Her host came to life in several breaths, advising the woman of what to expect as his neighbor, and the protective stallion that might impose. A horse hardly seemed like a threat to her soon-to-be home, but she did well to note it, nodding as she silently agreed to be watchful. Then as he spoke of winter, the Nomad's ears perked intently. Her captured tail beneath her heavy frame pulled itself free and swayed slowly, but excitedly. "I look forward to the winter," she confessed. "And perhaps we could share a fire together, as one neighbor to another." This idea of having a neighbor was growing more exciting as their conversation carried on.
"When I traveled with the Nomads, we cherished the winter, for it was a time when members of alike families...well, tasks, cast aside their family names and came together as a single family. We kept each other warm and shared stories with each other during the nights to lull us to sleep. It was one of the few times we would claim one spot of land and make it home for several months until the first thaw. We hunted and gathered together, making stock for the harsh months to come, but it was all in good spirits. Even if it was not our task, we took part and simply enjoyed being with our other brothers and sisters." Unknowingly, the woman sighed longingly recalling the bliss that stemmed from such bonding, the inevitable mating that followed and the birth of a new generation of Wandering Spirits. "For two winters I have not taken part of that," she continued, returning her gaze to her kind host. "As I traveled alone there was no family to settle and share with. But I hope this season I can regain that familiar bond with my new family."