On the verge of twilight

Kira Harding · 02-15-2012, 04:00 PM

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OOC comments here.

She paid little mind to Wretch‘s uncertain confirmation, and hardly noticing that she‘d been speaking aloud. “My dad knows how to read.” She found herself explaining. “He came across an old map in a hume-den, and since then he’s been obsessed with them. I made him a map of our camp for his birthday.” She admitted proudly. “He loved it.” She said soon after, remembering the happiness in her father’s eyes when he received her little gift. She’d painted the camp site in full detail on a canvas of tanned leather, grinning broadly whenever he consulted it after setting up camp again after a move, ensuring that no matter where they roamed it would always look like home. She broke from her reverie, beaming, then giggled when Wretch commented on her friend’s beauty. The girl was so very serious at times Kira couldn’t help but chuckle.

Her smile dimmed, but only a little as Wretch spoke her offer. Her sandy brown ears perked and she paused before smiling warmly. “Oh, Wretch, I’d love to come with you!” She said happily. She was no more than a stranger here, and company was indeed quite welcome. She’d been beginning to feel lonely with only herself and Rhaego and the prospect of a traveling companion made her swell with joy. She looked forward to moving on and seeing the sights of this wondrous new land, not to mention hunting on her own had become increasingly harder, and she’d never been full for long. Maybe the two together could take down larger game. It had been weeks since she’d had deer, or any other large prey. Her belly seemed to rumble at the thought.

She saw Wretch’s surprise at Rhaego’s outburst. “He’s harmless, really.” She offered, hoping it would make her less wary of the stallion. “Just high-strung is all.” She shrugged a bit, undaunted by his behavior and returned her attention to the girl’s cuts. When she offered her the pack she pulled out some cloth and gave pause seeing the bottle of alcohol. She’d seen her father and uncle with similar bottles before, drinking it, and sometimes pouring it over cuts and scrapes, but whenever she came near she’d often been turned away for reasons she couldn’t understand. Her brows furrowed a bit she opened it and gave a sniff. It burned her sensitive nose and she reached up a hand to rub it, eyes suddenly watering. Perhaps it was right of them to steer her away. It didn’t smell like something she’d like to drink.

She set it aside for now, and carefully reached into her own pack. She was looking for the dagger this time and peered inside before grabbing it by the handle. “Oh, I’m alright. I do it all the time.“ She assured. Her eyes turned towards the girls cuts and she came closer to get a better look. “I might have to dig a bit to get the glass out.” She warned, her hand on the dagger and her eyes apologetic as she saw to one of the deeper cuts out of the hybrids reach. The rest were only scratches, but she‘d clean them all they same so they wouldn‘t become infected. “Why would anyone do such a thing, and by herself?” She asked, then, thinking of the woman that had done this to the hybrid.

Word Count: 000

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