He makes advances till his wheels cease to roll

Siv Helsi · 10-04-2012, 09:51 AM

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The storm had been terrible. Her home had withstood most of the damage well, save for a tear or two on the outside of the yurt’s leather hide, and would be easy to repair. Her own supplies were well off, but she had recognized the dire situation of their lack of healing plants. While stocked with some, winter was fast approaching and without these life-saving medicines, they would be in dire straits. She had resolved to produce items that might bring trade, and while she was in no shape to travel (the bulge in her belly was now more than apparent) she might ask Salvia to send someone, or send Gale herself. As long as she had his daughter, he would never think of fleeing.

So she had taken to remaining indoors and working. A decorated bag had just been finished and her fingers ached from tooling the item. It was pretty and would likely bring profit. She crumbled up bits of dried plants and put them into a large wooden bowl, casting her falcon-purple eyes to the steaming water above her central fire. Not yet, she thought, and stretched luxuriously to shake the stiffness from her bones.

That was when a voice came to her, so terrible and haunted that it rose the hair along her neck. She might not have believed in the gods as fervently as she once did, but nothing would ever shake her superstitions of the supernatural world. Only when it identified itself did she settle, though her heart was racing. A step in his direction brought with it a ghastly smell, and horror replaced fear. She pushed aside the leather flap and took in the sight.

Death clung to him. His hands were the color of old rust and mud, and only when she saw what was within them did she understand. Wide-eyed, she pulled the curtain further back. “In, in,” she ordered, and motioned hurriedly towards the fire. “Sit, hold them to you. Keep them warm.” Orders. She was in a panic, but she was a woman whose spiritual skill was echoed by the limited training of medicine. Childbirth, however, was something she was quite familiar with. She had been alone when Draugr was born and it had helped to steel her notions towards such a thing. Birth was a battle.

China, she feared, had fallen.

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