It was like a heated whisper at the shell of my ear. The kindle starting from flesh weaving deep within the thick of muscle and every crimson drop of blood that flowed within me. I was lost in a hazed line of being very comfortable in my furs layered on top of me, with only the shadow of my sleeping grandmother to the side seen with a half open of my right eye falling back to a close as soon as it was opened. I didn't need to see, to see, and I knew in the center was the brazier warming the wagon, and the front was boxes, trunks and crates lined along the bare walls tethered back with leather to not move. Snuggling back, I tended to favor my moss filled fur pillow, I tried to let the slumber of the night again find me in its peaceful cradle. I was about there when it happened again. A sound so hollow it could only be the breeze, yet enough to sound like a questioning beckon. Told in two fold, like a start of breath exhaling and finishing in its gather of lungs. It was rich exhale of....a long..sound of P drawn out fully. Then another of a long sound of...O following. It wasn't until the third time it swirled the warmth of each breathed into my senses did I finally fully rouse from my furs. Was it a name? Finding my feet, I would give a little sign as I left the lush of furs and found the chill of bare wagon floor moving towards the flaps. Pausing only to take my brown cloak and drape it along my shoulders. I could hear the tender beat of rain that was seemingly endless since it started. A light tease, only ranging from a tender droplet ever few ihns to a light shower that was barely of sheet of glance.
The nights were chilled, well chilled, a foretelling a spex wouldn't be needed to know...soon it would be frost. I wished I had taken the time to work on my boots, but figured this wouldn't take long. Who was near our wagon? One could hear the sound of bosk out in the herds, then the snarls of kaiila and sleens. When I was about to turn around into my wagon did hear it again. The only warmth that would brush along my flesh with each sound the same as the others. It was coming from...up. The sky? Was the Sky speaking to me? I child myself. I am not a man. She may show me things, but rarely does she speak to women. We needed no words, we understood the signs. Those of us who are suppose to. Moving around the side of the wagon my feet prickled at the cold as I paused at the side looking up. Again, it filled me, as I half wished it would speak to my toes which were freezing. Reaching up, fingers curled around the band of rope that was thrown over the top of canvas, half pleasured knowing our wagon tops were double coated and extra boning for travel. I knew I was a bit thicker on the body then most girls. What can I say? Grandmother loved to cook. With the strength of my upper arms, working my toes into the pegs at the side of the wagon I pulled myself up. Goodness I haven't done this in many seasons since I was young, and Brother was looking for me to see who painted over his inner wagon designs with red hand prints. I smiled through the burst of sweat that started to bead along my forehead as I climbed up fully to the top. Our wagons had a small lift of totem that the girls tended to bind colorful strips of leather to dance in the sky while we moved. I followed the wooden craving up, trying to ignore the throb of my palms from the burn of rope that tore into my skin, from the warmth and smell of rich copper were bleeding. When I saw.
It was not the only thing there waiting for me.
I was letting the brace of my feet help keep me against the rope and not slip down the slick leather of the canvas from the rain. I saw the raven bird watching me. Its eye blue like an afternoon sky, and bright like the stars. He seemed to be watching me. The great span of wings seemed to spread out, no! I didn't want him to leave yet. I called it out then seeing him find flight towards the upper northern wagons. "Poe!" It was then, did I find him gone, but back. Before me was a shadow. A beautiful form of shadow close to my finger tips. I reached out for it, watching the stain of droplets burn the surface with crimson color. I saw it then move. Then I knew what I had to find. A Shadow. I had to find it. I reached again when I felt my feet lose its gripping and I started to fall, I could only call to the shadow that was leaving me.
"Wait! Wait!"
"We can't wait Noelani, get up, the wagons will be moving soon" It was my grandmothers voice I heard. Lifting up, I was still in bed. My head on my beloved pillow, my furs around me. Was it all a dream? It had to be, then why did I feel like I had to finish something up. There was something I had to do. I felt it deep in my chest, and the ache of my feet that needed to walk. It was my grandmothers snap at me to get up again did I finally push the covers back and reach for my leather skirt. I didn't even touch my leathers when I turned my hand seeing the burns of ropes across my palm. Angry and red, just a bit sore. I couldn't even think as I heard nothing but my grandmothers voice rushing me. Dressing carefully , trying to work on my boots when Grandmother walked up handing me a jar. I opened it, a rich herbal sent told of salve. This shocked me..how did she...
Before I could say a word, she was gone.
