Paths, Duty, and Dance

[Sjira]

(Posted: Thu May 28, 2015 7:35 pm)

Days had bled into weeks and before the small woman realized it, almost three months had passed.

The work at the docks had kept hands more than a little busy. There, she had seen the strange ship, The Amaranthine, sail back in, but only whispers came with it. None could get too close or find out who truly owned or captained it. That had been a handful of days two month's time ago. That had also been the same day of the Fisherwoman's death - at least, the remembrance day for it. 'jira spent that day tending the two graves in the large, RhyDin cemetery for those she had known and were buried there.

But there was always some measure and manner of work to do. As busy as Panther could be, it would do her no good to sit about and pine, though heart, body and soul could easily have done so. It was best to keep hands busy so that the mind did not worry or wonder.

It was into the second week of the third month that 'jira started visiting the Glen again. The snows had stopped falling, the ground had thawed, and trees and flowers flourished. When it was she was not at the docks or mending at the inn, she was in the Glen to swim or to run Trygg in races with the breezes that found their way there.

Dancing With Althrae

The gem of the caravan had finally talked s'jira into coming to see them all when the troupe of entertainers had arrived with the spring to RhyDin. Their tents were colorful with patterns and stripes that could not be missed even from some of the farthest distances on hill or mountain.

S'jira was still smelling of cleaning the fish on wharf alongside grizzled men who were singing their shanties. Some were being sung, quite on purpose, with as salty a 'taste' to their wording as the nearby sea's spray.

"'jira!"

She had heard her name and flitted a look of her onyx-colored gaze towards one of the older men. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Day's fadin', girl. The 'van won't be waitin' on ye!" Chuckling to remind her. She had only mentioned it a few times that day alone.

Now, they had all been out in the day's sun for much of its morning. And though it wasn't quite midday, it was late enough. There was still a need to thoroughly wash self, change and her hair to dry, as well as to see to a few other things before she could even think of making her way to the river's edge where the caravan's encampment was.

Darkly brown hair pulled back from her face shifted against her back. The dull, brown cloth of her skirt matched it well. And her face had darkened with the touch of the sun. She gained her feet and hurried over to the oldest of the group that was laughing as she threw her arms about his next.

"Thanks is given. It is hoped a cool evening ...for you all!" Then scurried off, passing the statue of the mermaid and man that stood for years at the docks. As she passed it and path turned, she was at a barefooted run and hurrying off in the direction of the Red Dragon.

In Sight

As it might have seemed by many that she was out of sight for months, perhaps elsewhere entirely, the small woman had not left the realm since Panther and she had returned from their trip to Llothgar.

But she had not been seen much since RhyDin's January. So much time had slipped away from them that she mourned that they had been gone so long. There was much that had not been seen to, cared for, mended, worked. So much!

To right it, and after the repairs to the cottage, s'jira had immediately started helping out within the inn and docks again. Hands were kept as busy as Panther's duties kept him.

And in the evenings... she had started to take her rest at the Red Dragon. Friends were missed and so many strangers now walked RhyDin's many, many streets.

There was much for 'jira to catch up on...

Needle & Thread (Thoughts & Else)

Kitty was amongst the first of those that the small one had seen upon emerging back into the inn of the Red Dragon, though others had been seen daily without pause.

How the fem feline was everything that 'jira was note: beautiful, strong, forthright, and more. But the small one never had minded any of that. She adored the popular and well-known one with claws. Only once had she ever not cared for Kitty... years and years ago when first she had seen her in company with Panther. S'jira did not know what lay between them and a heart was mutely jealous of it. But it had only been once and in a moment's time.

S'jira sat comfortably hearthside and continued to pull thread through cloth by way of that needle. It was where she was often found and where a heart and form were most at ease..purpose, even when there was the chance for rest..

***

While she had visited that night with Kitty and the others, he made his way into the inn.

He had been seen only every once in a great while, but with armor worn, sometimes a great ax carried, and often speaking with others or merely in their company.. s'jira had never spoken with the one so many others knew far better than she likely ever would.

Lucius was what he was called, she had been told by Kitty. Though he seemed known by so many and greeted by just as many or more, for long she had never seen him in favored company. But Kitty found it out for her, that his wife was busy. S'jira knew this well of self and Panther and eased in her worry for anyone that might be so much to themselves when around so many people.

In the night that followed, another was met who was more accustomed to the Island where the sun never fully set. Gods knew that merely thinking of the only time she had ever dared to travel there had left her queasy and extremely hesitant to to attempt a return. But he was found to be good company though an impish sort called the man names and pulled at his cheeks!

S'jira laughed quietly to self to think of the last couple of days... and another stitch was completed on the garment.

Nightmare's Touch

In the time when Panther had been gone from her for years, there had been a..presence that had visited more than a handful of times. She had convinced herself that it had not been real, that it had been madness brought on by the great, steep grief of Panther's absence.

Even in that present day, if her mind slipped to remember the one who seemed to speak within her mind and soul, it caused her small form to shiver. But it had not been daytime when she thought of the one that talked with her, consoled her, rebuked her and more. It was within the depths of slumber when she recalled it all. She remembered being somewhere between happy to have someone to speak with and afraid that is was naught but pure madness.

The nightmare took her gently at first, sought a way through the meadow near the cottage until she found herself standing beside the stream that ran strong and clean not far from her home. It was the start of a very pleasant dream. But it broke, fragmenting abruptly and violently. Had she not just been standing upon the shore, watching the cool waters rush over the rocks? Suddenly, she found herself face-down and trying to scream but couldn't. Air forced from her lungs and her screams were nothing violent bubbles surfacing rapidly about her head.

About the time she thought she might die, by whatever ...s'jira jerked awake and cried out into the darkness of the room. She was at the Red Dragon, in the rooms she and Panther kept. A pelt on the bed where her hand passed against it told her as much.

Touch passed aside further, seeking Panther and found the bed empty. Still too weakened by the violence of the imagery, she remained right where she was, collapsing back into the bed. With a weary effort, she gave into a turn, slowly onto her right side. Her face pressed into the pillow that muffle the sounds that came next as she wept...

Surely matters would lighten with the dawning of the next day.

Heartbeat Of The Glen

When the sun's rays were still grey on the horizon, barely a waking of a new day, 'jira was already up and dressed.

A head ached and heart weighed but the promise of the dawning day was enough to lighten her soul. The dress was simple and light in material, favoring the spring's colors with its pallid, creamy white. A short, leather vest was slipped on and the criss-crossing strands were drawn taut.

She spent a look towards sandals and boots that had been untouched since fall and winter months. As she passed the dresser and trunk, she paused to look to the image in the glass that. Her hair was long and in feathered layers to the length of the small of her back, brushing at the swells of her hips. Hands pushed it back, running fingerstips through those lengths to rid them of tangles. Touch alighted to the single, white lock that streamed down from the area near her right temple.

Then gave into a turn, pulled the door open and hurried out of the rooms to move down the stairs and out of the inn's main door. The small one was headed for the livery to get Trygg. It was the perfect day to spend riding in the southern glen.

***
Along the lake's bank, she lay beneath the ancient and huge white oak. Its shade outcast in all directions in a pleasant spread for the small woman. There she had met with a few in her time within RhyDin. Even the man who had tried his hand with catching fish with her and how terribly embarrassing that had proved. And fun.

Here, the four-winged creatures lived, though she rarely had the chance to see them. They were tiny and very much like fairies but as far as 'jira could tell they did not wear clothing, they did not speak to her or others, but they sang in such a way that it brought on dreams to any who had the rare opportunity to be that near them. As she lay back on the lush, dark green grass, eyes slid closed to listen to the breeze rush through the great boughs overhead.

Trygg could be heard somewhere in the glen roaming and grazing on the grasses. It was often a favorite spot for her and the horse Panther had gifted her with. There they would be for hours more, enough for the small one from Llothgar to peacefully slumber in the ancient tree's shadow.