Herd in Winter (January 3010) - [Aelwyn]
Feb 24, 2018 13:22:39 GMT -5
Post by Alodia on Feb 24, 2018 13:22:39 GMT -5
A lone blonde figure, clad under layers of wools, made their way down the main road, though she did not travel unaccompanied completely. In her right hand she grasped a walking stick, her thick cloak obscuring her eyes in a way she thought made her look like one of the wizards from the tales and songs, her left hand upon the lead of a tired brown mare, who behind pulled a cart of soaps and bottles Alodia had not managed to sell during her stay in Edoras that month. Attatched in rope leads of their own, some goats stepped behind, bleating and ringing their large bells, carrying music at Alodia’s heels.
Bui and Jolly roamed free at her right, stopping for moments at a time to graze upon the grasses before bounding back to fall against Alodia’s side. There was a bond to them that ran deeper than the others of her herd, and though no rope was laid upon them to keep them close, the young woman knew they would not trail long behind.
January was bleak, faint patches of snow still clinging to the rolling grasses through the small thaw that had beset upon the land in the past week. The sun now was setting, though, and the winds over the plain were dropping once more into chill. Alodia stood still, pulling upon the lead of the brown mare with a quiet, “Woah, girl.” Night was coming, and though it was often that the young woman traversed the word path from Edoras’ front gate to her farm still another day’s walk away, the darkness made her uneasy.
“We’ll camp here,” she told her rabble of hooved friends. Bui and Jolly seemed unbothered by the statement, though a black and white milkgoat leashed to the back of the cart bleated a loud, carrying disapproval.
“There now, Nana,” Alodia clucked affectionately, turning to lead the horse a few paces from the road, though glancing over her shoulder toward the grumpy goat behind. “I’ll make sure you’re warm.”
--
Camp was never swift to set up when it was one set of hands working, though by the time the velvet night had spread its length over the land and dotted the crisp night sky with twinkling fires, Alodia had managed to start the fire for warmth and unhitch the mare to let her graze. The goats were yet tied, though their legs were prone to wander too far, and even Alodia’s kulning was going to prove not enough to get them to return from such open stretches. The temperature was dropping, the horizon holding cloud that threatened snow in the wee hours. With a sigh that puffed like silver into the air, Alodia settled herself upon her bedroll, thick furs over her against the chill. “Could have used more,” she hummed to Bui as she twirled the coin purse of her earnings through her fingers. She had tried her best, but winter was always harder to sell soaps. Few wished to think of bathing in the cold.
Jolly bleated, coming to settle at the side of her legs and Alodia moved to tuck the purse into the weathered knapsack beside her head, eyeing the orange, dancing flames. “Can’t leave that going,” she hummed knowingly. The last thing she wished to do was burn them all in blaze. Though, she mused wryly, the heat would have done her well. Still, it did not have to be done yet. She finished munching on some of the cheese she had not been able to sell, gnawing a little smoked sausage. Dinner, she hoped, would take her mind from the chill for a small while, and give her time to keep the orange, dancing flames around them to fend off some of the chill.
Eventually, Alodia stood having no other choice, much to Jolly’s irritation. She dampened the fire to smoldering ashes, shivering against the wind as it blew through. Nana bleated her own cry, and Alodia laughed. “You think I want to sleep in the cold, too?” She larked in song, though the old goat did nothing but glare. “We’ll be home tomorrow,” she promised. “I’ll see you all get extra warmth after this. I always do.”
Once more she settled into her blankets and furs, Bui and Jolly pressing in closely. “Goodnight,” she said to her little herd. “See you in the morning.” It took some time for sleep to take her, for the winds moaned through the silence of the plain and brought icy fingers. But eventually, even Alodia was too tired to mind the chill, and she fell into a deep, and dreamless slumber.
Bui and Jolly roamed free at her right, stopping for moments at a time to graze upon the grasses before bounding back to fall against Alodia’s side. There was a bond to them that ran deeper than the others of her herd, and though no rope was laid upon them to keep them close, the young woman knew they would not trail long behind.
January was bleak, faint patches of snow still clinging to the rolling grasses through the small thaw that had beset upon the land in the past week. The sun now was setting, though, and the winds over the plain were dropping once more into chill. Alodia stood still, pulling upon the lead of the brown mare with a quiet, “Woah, girl.” Night was coming, and though it was often that the young woman traversed the word path from Edoras’ front gate to her farm still another day’s walk away, the darkness made her uneasy.
“We’ll camp here,” she told her rabble of hooved friends. Bui and Jolly seemed unbothered by the statement, though a black and white milkgoat leashed to the back of the cart bleated a loud, carrying disapproval.
“There now, Nana,” Alodia clucked affectionately, turning to lead the horse a few paces from the road, though glancing over her shoulder toward the grumpy goat behind. “I’ll make sure you’re warm.”
--
Camp was never swift to set up when it was one set of hands working, though by the time the velvet night had spread its length over the land and dotted the crisp night sky with twinkling fires, Alodia had managed to start the fire for warmth and unhitch the mare to let her graze. The goats were yet tied, though their legs were prone to wander too far, and even Alodia’s kulning was going to prove not enough to get them to return from such open stretches. The temperature was dropping, the horizon holding cloud that threatened snow in the wee hours. With a sigh that puffed like silver into the air, Alodia settled herself upon her bedroll, thick furs over her against the chill. “Could have used more,” she hummed to Bui as she twirled the coin purse of her earnings through her fingers. She had tried her best, but winter was always harder to sell soaps. Few wished to think of bathing in the cold.
Jolly bleated, coming to settle at the side of her legs and Alodia moved to tuck the purse into the weathered knapsack beside her head, eyeing the orange, dancing flames. “Can’t leave that going,” she hummed knowingly. The last thing she wished to do was burn them all in blaze. Though, she mused wryly, the heat would have done her well. Still, it did not have to be done yet. She finished munching on some of the cheese she had not been able to sell, gnawing a little smoked sausage. Dinner, she hoped, would take her mind from the chill for a small while, and give her time to keep the orange, dancing flames around them to fend off some of the chill.
Eventually, Alodia stood having no other choice, much to Jolly’s irritation. She dampened the fire to smoldering ashes, shivering against the wind as it blew through. Nana bleated her own cry, and Alodia laughed. “You think I want to sleep in the cold, too?” She larked in song, though the old goat did nothing but glare. “We’ll be home tomorrow,” she promised. “I’ll see you all get extra warmth after this. I always do.”
Once more she settled into her blankets and furs, Bui and Jolly pressing in closely. “Goodnight,” she said to her little herd. “See you in the morning.” It took some time for sleep to take her, for the winds moaned through the silence of the plain and brought icy fingers. But eventually, even Alodia was too tired to mind the chill, and she fell into a deep, and dreamless slumber.