She had a small smile. It didn't reach her eyes and she didn't take the offered hand of help. Afraid of the ones who had found her on the mountain, she took small steps in the wake of the group. The tribe didn't treat her with discourtesy or with awe. They treated her with compassion and curiosity. She followed them deeper into the mountains until she tired and they stopped. The wind whipped her long strands of chocolate hair coated with specks of snow. It was a cold winter and she was trying to remember why she was left on the mountain instead of going home with her mother. A lot of tears and a face of stone was all she could remember before she woke up from her memories. Her name was lost to all. A name given to her by those who had left her. She tried to think of a name that would fit her life, but her life was gone. All memories were lost. So, nameless, she trudged on with the tribe. One of the group turned as she followed and slowed until they were even with her.
"Killante is my name. Whats yours?" his eyes were warm and open.
"In all honesty, I have no idea what my name is or who I am." Tears started to form in her eyes and she wiped them with the back of her cold hand.
"Well honesty is always good." A smile that spread across his entire face formed and gave the girl hope. She gave a small smile in return and they walked on in comfortable silence. A joke was something she appreciated. That she could remember.
A bond had been formed out of silence between the two travelers. When there was conversation, she would listen and calmly tell him her opinion. He would say only what needed to be said in order to get her mind off her past or lack there of. It was strange to find a friend in the darkest moments of your life. It happens so quickly and the darker you become, the more you need someone. She had no idea how long this friendship would last but she wanted it to be for as long as possible. When she slipped on a patch of ice on the path, he helped. When he got a look in his eye that meant trouble may be coming, she became nervous. Fast friends with a lot in their path trugged on through the mountains, into the darker yet beautiful peace of the trees.
(this is a part of a dream I had the other night and am thinking about elaborating on it)
3 comments:
that was absolutely beautiful. gurl, you should look into writing or make sure you always keep it up bc you are good at it! fur real!
i own the book that the picture you used comes from. it is part of a russian series of fairie tales that you would totally love. the pictures are amazing and the stories are great. even the borders are gorgeous. very detailed.
it is called, "vassilisa the beautiful." i can tell you more about it and the series if you are interested. you should look up baba-yaga. it is a witch from easter european folklore that travels around in a hollowed treetrunk and lives in a house with chicken surrounded by a fence of skulls. you can see it in the background of your picture.
books! check-em-out!
ciao, and sorry for my poor writing. the more become an architect, the worse i write.
i meant to say "...lives in a house with chicken legs," not just chicken.
http://efimero.files.wordpress.com/2008/09/baba-yaga.jpg
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