short fantasy/ action story~
It began during the epiphany of war. As the sun glistened softly against the edges of the dark, whithered bark of the cedar tree, the old woman sitting beneath it began to speak to herself. Although her voice was slight, her hands which were shrunken and weak with age moved up and down so vigorously that the village people began to gather at her feet. Small birds twittered and flitted through the cloudless sky, the light dancing on their feathers playfully.
"What's happened to Petra?" A little girl leant towards her mother and clutched onto her dress for comfort.
"Never mind that, my dear. We shouldn't be so quick as to judge others...Come, let us not make a spectacle of this." The young woman's kind smile reassured her and she piqued up, her ears twitching slightly.
"MMhhm. I miss her...I liked how she used to be, before the Crauenk came. I remember she used to dance and sing. She was a great mother." The woman sighed softly and then gave a sad smile in the old woman's direction. "I love you still." The two walked down the cobblestone path towards a mass of huts, one of which was their home.
"Why? What are you in ..."
The woman gave a patient smile, her cheeks dimpling slightly as she opened the wooden door. "Finish your sentences, Noora. How are you going to live a proper life if you cannot finish your thoughts? Try again," she intoned, glancing towards the sun for the time. The child, struggling, opened her eyes until they were as wide as two suns glistening together
"Are you related?" The question broke through the air, and she hung still, waiting for an answer. A glance in her mother's direction meant that she would see the hardened face, a blank stare...exactly the thing she feared most; they walked home the rest of the way in utter silence.