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Somewhat of a ramble!
Ulilohi is frustrated and stressed about her shortcomings as a leader, whether perceived or real, and takes a 7-day hike in a random southern direction, finding her guide in the Trenches: a male American Marten named Atisia
It was a long time since she had heard from her home, though she had sent messages. When Aranck arrived she had felt the urge to simply pester him for all the details of what was going on, but it would hardly be respectable for someone of her rank to do so. No, she stayed silent and paid the elder the respect he deserved, but still she ached to know. She ached for many a thing lately. She had not seen the "company" of someone in moons. When she first arrived, she had had a friend alongside her, to share her bed and company, and then she had met Barrett once, and again at the large market festival, but now she could find her friend nowhere. Other than that, she found herself lonely, and this feeling was alien to her. Throughout her life she had never felt as if she were unloved or alone, and since she had matured there had been someone to share her blankets with more often than not. She had gone longer than this before, but here - so far away from everyone and everywhere that mattered - it felt as if it would simply never happen again. Such personal aches drove her to restless pacing and trivial activities like re-making clothing or creating weapons for a weapon storage that was not in use. Further still, it threatened to intrude in her mind when she was performing her duties or speaking with members of the tribe. These aches, on top (or in the foundation?) of the pressures of this undesired leadership. She had had no training for this! The demands were great, and she was no diplomat. Her strength was in the body, and while Claudius had now agreed to help her, she still felt lost. How could she manage on her own, with not even a spirit guide to aid her? The fact that one still had not come to her was a bleeding wound, worse than any heartache she had experienced, or so it felt at this time in her life. Her life was lacking, lacking any ties to familiarity, but she did not have the privilege to give up, no matter how she wanted to.
There was a will and desperation in her to achieve all the demands that life required of her, desperation that built up and threatened to shake her arms and legs, to shake her being until she would fall. It beat in her chest, a great weight that pushed on her lungs and made her short of breath just thinking about it. Choked the flow of blood to her head and limbs so they weakened. Perhaps it was a feeling of impending doom, that sometime now, soon, she would fail them and there would be another mess in this tribe to care for. A disappointment to Chief Aatu, a disappointment to AniWaya. To her parents and herself - if that should happen, she might as well live elsewhere.
She moved in great strides across paths she knew could be unsafe. She hadn't traveled them before, and now she was on foot, almost leaping blindly as she walked (or ran) without care, eyes gazing inwards, but looking at the ground. She wasn't even looking ahead to find out where the path was taking her. She looked as if she was in a hurry, and she was. In a hurry to let her anxiety out, and to feel relief and calmness, something she had lacked for a while now. She was all bundle of anxiety and trembling, unused adrenaline. Legs ached but she did not mind it, only thinking and gazing inwards, without purpose in her movement. It was her third day, and for being here, in the middle of nowhere, she felt extra guilty. The tribe knew she was away, but what if something happened? Was she running, now? Was she giving up, selfishly abandoning them? It felt like it, and like a thousand high-tempo drums ringed in her ears as she walked on without pause, rushing onwards, as if the situations she knew she had to face could be walked away from. The responsibilities she did not want would follow her, she knew.
She might as well turn back, there was as little help in being here as anywhere else— she turned abruptly, almost violently, all muscle and tension. Ready to scream and take out her frustrations physically at the air, a tree, anything she could find that was not living. She did neither, but sunk where she was instead, breathing, calming herself, realizing that whatever she was doing, it was not working. Her face was hidden in the palms of her hands, ornaments and shawl creating soft noises that sounded like the roar of her frustration which still churned in her chest. What could she do? It was then she noticed what was ahead of her on the path, between the fingers in front of her face. A marten, but it did not run from her, its natural predator, but stood to stare at her on hind legs. She lowered her hands and stared at the creature, feeling annoyed at how it was watching her. "What do you want anyway?" She almost barked the words, only the moment afterwards realizing that this marten was no ordinary one. He walked closer, determined, as her realization bubbled to the surface and she managed to somehow produce an apology of sorts. "Oh I'm— Apologies, I didn't know... or, well I didn't realize—" She sat when he came closer, still not saying anything, and she rose to look down on the tiny creature. He was unnerving in his tiny form and silence, and after having been interrupted in such a private situation, she was finding it difficult to conjure up valid things to say. "Are you not going to say anything, then? Just nothing? Just look at me?" she said, defensively. He cocked his head as if thinking before he replied, his voice as tiny-sounding as he was. "We should go home." The councilwoman nodded in silent compliance, the furnace in her chest forgotten for a moment, the burdens almost out of sight. "Your legs.. eh. You're tiny," she blurted, to which he simply stared at her again. "You're very observant." It would be disrespectful to assume he could not walk on his own, but Ulilohi imagined it would take thrice as long to return if they were to do so by the speed of his legs. Before she could offer him a ride, he'd already spoken. "Well? I assume you don't expect me to just go ahead on my own?" The councilwoman mumbled an apology before offering her hands to scoop him up. He quickly settled on her right shoulder, crawling into her shawl to sit comfortably. It was a strange sensation to have him there on her shoulder, the weight of him and his scent. "What's your name, then?" she asked, more collected and properly formal now. "Atisia," he said simply. Ulilohi giggled at that before he shot her a warning look, and she began to return the way she had come, in a gentler gait this time. The way home would not be as swift, but perhaps more meaningful, than the way out here. He was not talkative, but at least she knew he existed.
#1236