The feeling of moss and fallen leaves on her pads made her remember of home. Actually, the thickness of the trees in this particular area of these territories. The sun barely touched the humid ground, , though the air wasn't as warm and wet as she recalled from her home. Some vines were missing and the trees were far smaller than the ones back at her birth place.
She shook off all those memories. It wasn't good to stay too attached to the past. It was one of the Great Virtues: don't guess the future;live the present; forget the past. Following her own advices, she kept on walking, her feet barely making any sounds because of the soft ground and her smooth steps, adquired after living for so long in such similar landscape.
After a few minutes, she found a failure on the evergreen sky. Where half a dozen trees should be, there was none. The lack of tree tops allowed the mallow sun to shine through. There were some sticks and small rocks and pebbles all around that tiny clearing. The woman - carefully as ever - slipped into the warm sunshines, blinking furiously with the sudden brightness, but her amethyst eyes soon adjusted. She allowed herself to sit down, her legs crossed, absorbing some of that delicious warmth. Her black markings and afrobraids were the first ones to get warmed up, but when her white markings were just as warm, she knew it was enough. She sighed with delight and got up, feeling this was the best place for her to settle down. At least for now.
She put down her bag and rubbed her palms together, a tender smile on her lips, all warmed up and ready to start. Once she found two trees in an even, nice distance from each other, she took off her hammock - made with intertwined dry palmtree leaves - and placed it on a safe distance from the ground, sustainning it with vines on each end and attatching those to some strong branches. After placing her bed, she took some of the rocks and placed them in a circle. Then, gathering some sticks and dry leaves and putting them inside the rock circle, she was done with the fireplace. The hybrid put her bag near her hammock, and her guitar, bow and arrow carrier beside it. And, for the final touch, she cleaned the clearing, removing some of the rocks or bigger boulders and some of the leaves.
The sun had moved a bit to the west as she did her chores. Once she was done, the sun had almost toasted her back and head, so all she needed was some shade and rest. The femme slowly walked to her hammock and lyed on it. "Agradeço, Pai Sol, por este ótimo abrigo. Rogo pra que vossa generosidade não se esvaia." She prayed, shuting her eyes and placing her palms together. She owned Father Sun this refugee of hers, for it was him that guided her spirit here, in a way or another.
The minutes passed by, and boredom found her quickly. She galnced at her stuff with half lidded eyes. Of all of them, her guitar looked the most tempting. She stretched out an arm towards it until black fingers met warm wood. Once it was on her lap, she let one of her legs hang out of the hammock and used it to swing the hammock from side to side tenderly. She just had to tune two strings before it was all set. She closed her eyes just let the music come to her.
Just like walking or blinking, the tune came effortlessly to her skilled fingers as they moved up and down the guitar's arm to create the notes. She soon made up some lyrics, her smooth, female voice filled the air with those graceful tunes. As usual, her lyrics were in her mother language, Portuguese, and were somewhat sung prayers to the spirits.