After the Fall
The bark of this great tree is rough on my back, even through the thick cloth of my shirt. I find it comforting, that I can still be uncomfortable. The blood from my last wound is already gone, the bruises fading as I watch, but the wind feels gentle and cool on my cheek, and my back is sore, and for this I am most thankful.
Why do I sit against this tree, you might wonder, when there are foes to be met, and lessons to learn? As one newly Gifted, my spirit is full of the fire and need and drive I imagine we all feel, to fight, to protect, to keep safe the family we walked beside yesterday. It was yesterday, when I fell... only that. And yet I sit against this tree and rejoice in the small discomforts that make me feel normal because I am waiting. I am waiting for one more of these tiny grass beetles to come out of hiding, waiting to fight, and to return up the mountain to tell the tale. It is only one, but has been long in coming.
I am used to waiting, second daughter of six, and the tree's bark, the cool breeze, they make the waiting something more than the chore it might have otherwise been. In this, my first day of knowing the gift, I cherish anything which ties me to yesterday, to my sisters. I'm writing this here, now, in the hopes that a hundred days from now, and at least that many battles... I remember that the bark hurts my back.
look forward to rping with you in the future ^^
