09-18-2016, 08:04 PM
As it happens, a few mouthfuls of grass do nothing to warm me back up. The food does manage to ease the sharp pangs of hunger in my belly, at least. But the cold clings just as stubbornly to my insides as it did before. Oh well. No surprise there. It was at least worth a shot, even if the effort was in vain.
Still, I take another mouthful of the rich, newly-grown grass. I still need to put on the weight I lost over the winter, and round out my gangly, awkward yearling frame a bit. Put some meat on my too-cold bones. Maybe that would help fight off the chill of being without my fire friend? Regardless, I should at least not starve to death. No sense in that.
The stranger does a better job of filling the silence than I did with my quiet little hello, which may not be saying much but at least we’re making progress, right? “Vaka. I’m Lilitha.” Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m normally a regular chatterbox, can’t get me to shut up, can barely get a word in edgewise. All bounce and enthusiasm. Today, though, none of that. Just the bare necessities, dragged out of my throat by force of will and nothing else.
Normally this would be the time for further introductions. I’m Lilitha of the Taiga, daughter of Romek and Maribel, sister to a great deal of sibings, only half of whose names I know. My home is so lovely, and if you’re looking for a place to stay I’m sure you’d be welcome. And so on, and so on. But I’m not Lilitha of the Taiga. I’m Lilitha of nowhere, and nowhere does not make for a very compelling invitation, does it now?
So clearly talking about myself is the wrong way to make this a conversation instead of an awkward greeting in passing. “Where are you from, Vaka?” I pause, considering the stupidity of that question. “Or I suppose. Where were you from, if you’re like most of the rest of us now and you’re currently from nowhere, or your new somewhere hasn’t been yours long enough to feel like a real answer to that question.” Well. I guess that is easier.
Still, I take another mouthful of the rich, newly-grown grass. I still need to put on the weight I lost over the winter, and round out my gangly, awkward yearling frame a bit. Put some meat on my too-cold bones. Maybe that would help fight off the chill of being without my fire friend? Regardless, I should at least not starve to death. No sense in that.
The stranger does a better job of filling the silence than I did with my quiet little hello, which may not be saying much but at least we’re making progress, right? “Vaka. I’m Lilitha.” Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m normally a regular chatterbox, can’t get me to shut up, can barely get a word in edgewise. All bounce and enthusiasm. Today, though, none of that. Just the bare necessities, dragged out of my throat by force of will and nothing else.
Normally this would be the time for further introductions. I’m Lilitha of the Taiga, daughter of Romek and Maribel, sister to a great deal of sibings, only half of whose names I know. My home is so lovely, and if you’re looking for a place to stay I’m sure you’d be welcome. And so on, and so on. But I’m not Lilitha of the Taiga. I’m Lilitha of nowhere, and nowhere does not make for a very compelling invitation, does it now?
So clearly talking about myself is the wrong way to make this a conversation instead of an awkward greeting in passing. “Where are you from, Vaka?” I pause, considering the stupidity of that question. “Or I suppose. Where were you from, if you’re like most of the rest of us now and you’re currently from nowhere, or your new somewhere hasn’t been yours long enough to feel like a real answer to that question.” Well. I guess that is easier.