Chapter 7 p. 11

Mara watched Brynn bustle around the small area as they waited for her adoptive family to return. Brynn had insisted that Mara sit on a carved stump and do nothing, and Mara didn't protest. She preferred to wait and think about what it was that she was supposed to do with the child. It took me the better part of three days to find her. Running away, lost under a tree in the middle of nowhere, trying to die from heatstroke. This is a real gem of a person that you've found this time Joshua.


Mara gazed into the now crackling fire in the center of the hut as she thought to herself. Behind her, Brynn was humming and doing a hopping, shuffling sort of dance on one foot while fixing a meal for the four of them. On the wall  to Mara's right, the last traces of the orange sunset faded, leaving the fire only to light the inside. On Kaze's whispers, she could hear the sounds of men heading towards the hut. Brynn's family would be here soon. Black dog... what do black dogs have to do with children? Or guidance? The phrase does sound familiar though. It would have to be something from Earth, since there are no dogs here. So, starting from 350 years ago, what did I know about black dogs?

Mara was jolted from her thoughts as loud bumps and voices announced the return of the huts owners. The older man, Pada Shem, as Brynn called him, was tall and broad and wore a grizzled face and longer locks of dark hair that matched his dark eyes. His son, an equally tall but slender young man, had stringy hair and a small nose that came to a point between his eyes that were set in a permanent squint from long hours in sunslight on water. Mara knew from Brynn's memories that the son was much stronger than he looked, and no slouch with his right hook. The two of them looked displeased at finding Mara and Brynn, but Shem managed to keep his anger a simmer, still managing to civilly greet Mara. His son didn't bother, and skulked out into the night to vent his annoyance elsewhere.

The End

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