Storytime
Strawberry #23. Boots
Story : knights
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1267
Ok, so I stared at my prompts and the one that jumped out at me took me in a direction I wasn't intending (but isn't that the point?) Anyway, I think I need an amendment to my introduction, because this is not how I expected to lead off at all. (I'm going to go back and edit it rather than go into further explaination here). This piece takes place several years into the middle phase of my story, after the group has broken up.
Mara stretched on her back, wiggling her toes among the fresh blades of grass, and gazed at the sky through the web of bud laden branches above. Not even the slightest breeze stirred the air. Pure white clouds floated lazily against a backdrop of brilliant blue. They were so thick and fluffy she wondered if she’d be able to grab them if she only could get close enough.
Days like this were perfect for lounging in the grass. The last of the winter chill had slipped away and birdsong echoed through the trees. Bright patches of color erupted throughout the yard as the first wildflowers bloomed. It was amazing how the world went from white to green to colorful so swiftly. The tiny, petaled cups of the crocuses that emerged, sometimes before the last snowfall thawed, were her favorite.
There was the soft bristle of whiskers against her cheek, followed by the firm thud of a small, furry head striking her own, as the cat nuzzled her. “Hi, Millie,” she said, giving the calico’s ears a scratch. A soft rumbling came in response. She wondered if the cat cared at all that it was spring. Was there really much difference between curling up in the grass or in front of the hearth? Either way she spent most of her time asleep.
“Mara,” Aunt Kari’s voice cut through the stillness.
With a sigh, Mara rolled to her side and forced herself to her feet. She picked her way gingerly through the yard, careful to spare the delicate crocus blooms and hyacinth stalks that poked up through the grass. The cat kept pace easily, weaving back and forth between her feet.
Her breath caught in her throat as she neared the house. On the stoop was a familiar pair of boots. As always, they were a bit more worn than she remembered seeing them, and far too caked in mud for Aunt Kari to permit them past the doorway. Along with a knock on the door or the ambling of a weary warhorse up the path, the sight of those boots was one of the most anticipated events in Mara’s world. It meant that, just for a little while, everything would be as it should. She never knew when to expect the signs of her arrival, and the thought had scarcely crossed her mind today. Even if she had promised she would come, it was still more than a week until her birthday.
Mara raced the rest of the way to the house with little sympathy for the flowers that found themselves in her way while Millie bounded through the grass behind her. She hopped onto the stoop and threw the door open.
“Momma!” she called to the chestnut-haired woman standing barefoot in Aunt Kari‘s kitchen. Momma stooped to greet her with a smile and open arms. The cat slipped inside and the door slammed shut behind her of its own accord, as Mara found herself crushed in a bear hug.
Momma scooped her up, holding her against her chest as her feet dangled in the air. Mara buried her face in Momma’s hair, drinking in the familiar scent of sweat and leather and the faint metallic trace of blood that never quite washed away. Other people’s mommas smelled like flowers, and maybe that was okay for them. Her momma smelled like battle, and that was far more exciting. Mara put her arms around her neck and held her tight while Aunt Kari leaned against the counter with a smile.
“I missed you, Momma,” she said.
“I missed you too, baby,” said Momma.
“Will you stay long?” she asked, as Momma set her back on her feet.
Momma’s smile was big and warm. “As long as I can.”
The girl let loose with her usual flood of questions. “Where’s your sword? Do you have stories? You’ll be here till my birthday, right? Aunt Kari says she’ll take me shopping in town. Will you come with? I-”
Aunt Kari’s hand closed over Mara’s shoulder. “Your mother has had a long trip,” she said. “I should think she is quite tired. Perhaps we should let her rest.”
Momma laughed. “I’m never too tired for a story. But I wouldn’t mind a seat while I tell it.” She lifted Mara into her arms again and carried her out of the room.
“Is it a battle? Did you fight a demon? Was it big? Were you scared?” Mara babbled excitedly as the two left Aunt Kari alone with the cat in the kitchen, shaking her head with a smile.
Story : knights
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1267
Ok, so I stared at my prompts and the one that jumped out at me took me in a direction I wasn't intending (but isn't that the point?) Anyway, I think I need an amendment to my introduction, because this is not how I expected to lead off at all. (I'm going to go back and edit it rather than go into further explaination here). This piece takes place several years into the middle phase of my story, after the group has broken up.
Mara stretched on her back, wiggling her toes among the fresh blades of grass, and gazed at the sky through the web of bud laden branches above. Not even the slightest breeze stirred the air. Pure white clouds floated lazily against a backdrop of brilliant blue. They were so thick and fluffy she wondered if she’d be able to grab them if she only could get close enough.
Days like this were perfect for lounging in the grass. The last of the winter chill had slipped away and birdsong echoed through the trees. Bright patches of color erupted throughout the yard as the first wildflowers bloomed. It was amazing how the world went from white to green to colorful so swiftly. The tiny, petaled cups of the crocuses that emerged, sometimes before the last snowfall thawed, were her favorite.
There was the soft bristle of whiskers against her cheek, followed by the firm thud of a small, furry head striking her own, as the cat nuzzled her. “Hi, Millie,” she said, giving the calico’s ears a scratch. A soft rumbling came in response. She wondered if the cat cared at all that it was spring. Was there really much difference between curling up in the grass or in front of the hearth? Either way she spent most of her time asleep.
“Mara,” Aunt Kari’s voice cut through the stillness.
With a sigh, Mara rolled to her side and forced herself to her feet. She picked her way gingerly through the yard, careful to spare the delicate crocus blooms and hyacinth stalks that poked up through the grass. The cat kept pace easily, weaving back and forth between her feet.
Her breath caught in her throat as she neared the house. On the stoop was a familiar pair of boots. As always, they were a bit more worn than she remembered seeing them, and far too caked in mud for Aunt Kari to permit them past the doorway. Along with a knock on the door or the ambling of a weary warhorse up the path, the sight of those boots was one of the most anticipated events in Mara’s world. It meant that, just for a little while, everything would be as it should. She never knew when to expect the signs of her arrival, and the thought had scarcely crossed her mind today. Even if she had promised she would come, it was still more than a week until her birthday.
Mara raced the rest of the way to the house with little sympathy for the flowers that found themselves in her way while Millie bounded through the grass behind her. She hopped onto the stoop and threw the door open.
“Momma!” she called to the chestnut-haired woman standing barefoot in Aunt Kari‘s kitchen. Momma stooped to greet her with a smile and open arms. The cat slipped inside and the door slammed shut behind her of its own accord, as Mara found herself crushed in a bear hug.
Momma scooped her up, holding her against her chest as her feet dangled in the air. Mara buried her face in Momma’s hair, drinking in the familiar scent of sweat and leather and the faint metallic trace of blood that never quite washed away. Other people’s mommas smelled like flowers, and maybe that was okay for them. Her momma smelled like battle, and that was far more exciting. Mara put her arms around her neck and held her tight while Aunt Kari leaned against the counter with a smile.
“I missed you, Momma,” she said.
“I missed you too, baby,” said Momma.
“Will you stay long?” she asked, as Momma set her back on her feet.
Momma’s smile was big and warm. “As long as I can.”
The girl let loose with her usual flood of questions. “Where’s your sword? Do you have stories? You’ll be here till my birthday, right? Aunt Kari says she’ll take me shopping in town. Will you come with? I-”
Aunt Kari’s hand closed over Mara’s shoulder. “Your mother has had a long trip,” she said. “I should think she is quite tired. Perhaps we should let her rest.”
Momma laughed. “I’m never too tired for a story. But I wouldn’t mind a seat while I tell it.” She lifted Mara into her arms again and carried her out of the room.
“Is it a battle? Did you fight a demon? Was it big? Were you scared?” Mara babbled excitedly as the two left Aunt Kari alone with the cat in the kitchen, shaking her head with a smile.