Perhaps my totem is only testing me again
Ayla awoke to find the entire world changed. The snow and the cold that should have held on for several more moons had vanished. Not only that, but the plants she knew well were changed into thick ropes of vines and strange, tall trees with leaves that spread out like green, frayed hides. All the comfort she had found among the Others vanished, and Ayla decided to do the same. The spirits must be angry to change the entire world into something so different. Something she had no memory of, not even in the Clan legends. No one had seen anything like this. No one told of such thick, unnatural forests, or sweltering heat that had her tying her hair upon itself to keep it from pasting itself to her face and stripping to only her totem pouch and a light hide wrapped around her waist to keep dirt and other irritants from her womanhood.
Fear drove her to fill her basket and trek back the way she had come, hoping to find the snow once again. Instead, she found more jungle. More heat. Only more of the same. Panic gripped her heart. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had held onto the idea that if she didn't fit in or wasn't accepted, she could find her way back and hope to be taken in by a different Clan. Now that hope was gone. She realized it as she reached a beach and the water went on as far as he could see. Following the sand only took her in a circle, putting her back where she'd begun. It was not the great salt sea where her people had caught the giant sturgeon. This water was warmer. Blue as the sky. She passed strange things in the sand and paused to stare at the giant metal insect, then skirted around before it awoke.
Finally, when the truth was evident, Ayla sat down in the sand and laid her basket aside. These people were so unlike her. Each one so different, and everyone allowed to be different. No one thought she was odd, and so many of the men puzzled her. They were willing to teach her, willing to let her perform her duties as a woman, but they must all find her as ugly as the men she had been raised with. She wasn't even fortunate enough to be a second woman. She had to rely on herself and her own status as Medicine Woman, yet it seemed that status did not matter with these people. She did not understand all the strange customs and protocols, did not understand the nuances of their language. Most of all, she did not understand why her totem had seemingly abandoned her here in this cruel land that changed as quickly as comfrey in boiling water.
That sank in and her eyes grew weak and began to sting. Sitting alone, there was no one to watch her cry. No one to see her weakness. Afraid and alone among so many people it made her head ache to count them, Ayla pulled her knees to her chest and laid her head on her arms. She did not often give in to self pity, but this was an extraordinary time.
[With the change back to tropics, there is some new information HERE to let you know how she's (barely) dressed and what scars and such she has that are readily apparent]
Fear drove her to fill her basket and trek back the way she had come, hoping to find the snow once again. Instead, she found more jungle. More heat. Only more of the same. Panic gripped her heart. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had held onto the idea that if she didn't fit in or wasn't accepted, she could find her way back and hope to be taken in by a different Clan. Now that hope was gone. She realized it as she reached a beach and the water went on as far as he could see. Following the sand only took her in a circle, putting her back where she'd begun. It was not the great salt sea where her people had caught the giant sturgeon. This water was warmer. Blue as the sky. She passed strange things in the sand and paused to stare at the giant metal insect, then skirted around before it awoke.
Finally, when the truth was evident, Ayla sat down in the sand and laid her basket aside. These people were so unlike her. Each one so different, and everyone allowed to be different. No one thought she was odd, and so many of the men puzzled her. They were willing to teach her, willing to let her perform her duties as a woman, but they must all find her as ugly as the men she had been raised with. She wasn't even fortunate enough to be a second woman. She had to rely on herself and her own status as Medicine Woman, yet it seemed that status did not matter with these people. She did not understand all the strange customs and protocols, did not understand the nuances of their language. Most of all, she did not understand why her totem had seemingly abandoned her here in this cruel land that changed as quickly as comfrey in boiling water.
That sank in and her eyes grew weak and began to sting. Sitting alone, there was no one to watch her cry. No one to see her weakness. Afraid and alone among so many people it made her head ache to count them, Ayla pulled her knees to her chest and laid her head on her arms. She did not often give in to self pity, but this was an extraordinary time.
[With the change back to tropics, there is some new information HERE to let you know how she's (barely) dressed and what scars and such she has that are readily apparent]