2025-09-26, 04:00 PM
"Sweetroot!"
Kritt turned to look where Vijla pointed. She sighed inwardly at the sight of the shrivelled tops, dark brown among the yellow-white stalks of last years grass. Really she should be happy. It was food. Fighting to overcome her own crankiness she pulled back her lips in an effort to smile at her friend.
They had been living on flour mixed with bark for most of the winter. That - and sweetroot, which Kritt had always had trouble swallowing. They had run out of sweetroot last week. And the bread in their packs had used up the last flour. That was why the two girls were far outside the usual haunts of the villagers. The girls were the only children of the two unmated and landless women in the village. Hence their houses were among the first to starve. The villagers shared their food. That was part of "the Obligation". But of course one did not "share away" the very best. Or most.
They helped each other wringing the fat roots out of the ground using their sharpened staffs. Worms had already been at the roots. Still, most of them were usable. They brushed off the soil and put the roots in the wickerbaskets on their backs. Then they continued through the forest. Kritt got out her sling again and continued looking for small game. There was not much small game to begin with, and the critters were wary. Once in a while she let a stone fly. So far without hitting anything.
"Least we bring back something." Vijle gazed after another stone diasppearing into the thicket as another dotted hen got safely away. She shrugged her back pack into a more comfortable position.
"Uh." Kritt was busy ignoring the hen and was watching a grey squirrel. "That one looks fat."
"Which? Oh, 'at squirrel. Ah. Too bad it not edible."
"Got a cache somewhere. Try follow it. If we are lucky it just moved into this cache. Quiet'a."
"Ah."
They lost the squirrel a while later. Looking around they saw a small pile of empty nut shells and stripped cones on the ground under a tree. Looking up they could see a hole in the trunk. Kritt let her wicker basket slide to the ground and banged her staff against the tree. Nothing moved up there.
She began her climb. Vijla never was much of a tree climber and she stayed on the ground watching Kritt anxiously.
"Watch it. They can bite."
"Ah. Me can too."
"Me know. Sorry bugger."
"Shoo. Wish this honey tree."
"True. Ye close now."
"Just next to that branch, ah." Kritt pulled her self up on the branch. Her arms shook with the effort. Winter weakness. Grasping the branch with her knees and finding a hold with her free hand she stuck her staff into the the hole and poked around. An angry chitter sounded from within. She pulled out the staff. The squirrel hung from it, like a furry fish on a hook, the long teeth burried deeply in the wood. Kritt flung it and the staff away. She stuck an arm inside and fumbled around. The hole was deep, she could barely reach the buttom.
She found luck. Several handfulls of nuts and shrunken, sour apples. Vijlas eyes shone at the sight of the apples disappearing into Kritts bulging pockets.
"Looking for honey too?"
"Greedy, greedy. Sticky stuff do'na smell like honey."
"Urgh."
"Think take the acorns too?"
"Na. Leave 'at bugger some. Just get all the nuts."
"Me do, Me do. Hey!"
"What?"
"Found an extra chamber--" Kritt fumbled around. "Some house -- sir Squirrel got two bedrooms. Could get stuck in there. The opening is narrow."
"Careful! Me did na bring an axe."
"Me did. Small one. Uh."
"Be a long while chopping tree with that. Find anything?"
"Mostly pine cones. The slim ones. Think he likes them. Ouch!"
"What?"
"Funny nut. Big. Scraped me hand getting it out. What is this?"
"Me do'na know til a'show me."
"Uh. Coming down. Think me got what we can use."
Kritt climbed down, carefully, not wanting to upend her pockets.
"Look."
Vijla gingerly took the huge acorn from Kritts grimy hand. She stroked the shimmery velvety surface with a finger. "Me come to think of them elvish trees in them stories."
"Ah. Me too. Think it takes eating?"
"Ask ye mum."
Kritts mother Mayh was the witch of the village. Vijla sometimes seemed to think her an oracle. Kritt knew "witch" and "bitch" did not rhyme by coincidence.
"Where did sir Squirrel find it?" Kritt looked around seeing nothing but the same mix of well known trees they had wandered through since crossing The Borderstream. "Them elves forests are not really here but somewhere else, sort of. In another place, like the dead. That what mum say."
Vijla shivered and gave Kritt the acorn back. Kritt emptied her special pocket and put the acorn there, making sure the button was properly closed. They put the apples and nuts into their baskets and found Kritts staff. It bore fresh tooth marks, the squirrel was nowhere to be seen.
They continued east, keeping their eyes open, looking mostly for roots and small game. Especially fat squirrels. Finding no fat squirrels but yet another patch where sweet root had survived the winter. Their baskets were getting heavy.
Late in the afternoon they reached Whiteriver. A narrow, rushing river, not much broader than The Borderstream. Kritt climbed yet another tree, looking for the lake Mayh had told them about. She saw it a short distance to the North. They followed Whiteriver upstream, reaching the small lake as dark began to fall. The lake was just on the edge of the rocky area that, if one continued North for another moon or so, would change into the footthills of the Evermountains. They found the small cave just as Mayh had promised. In the last light Vijla gathered wood and got a small fire going while Kritt cut straw to soften their sleeping place.
They had mush of boiled apples and sweetroot to go with the bread. In Kritts opinion the apples made the world of a difference.
"Tomorrow we fish." Kritt poked the fire.
"Ah." Vijla yawned and hugged her legs, resting her chin on her knee. "Think it will be cold tonight?" Her dark brown hair was coming loose.
"Ah. Some."
Kritt turned to look where Vijla pointed. She sighed inwardly at the sight of the shrivelled tops, dark brown among the yellow-white stalks of last years grass. Really she should be happy. It was food. Fighting to overcome her own crankiness she pulled back her lips in an effort to smile at her friend.
They had been living on flour mixed with bark for most of the winter. That - and sweetroot, which Kritt had always had trouble swallowing. They had run out of sweetroot last week. And the bread in their packs had used up the last flour. That was why the two girls were far outside the usual haunts of the villagers. The girls were the only children of the two unmated and landless women in the village. Hence their houses were among the first to starve. The villagers shared their food. That was part of "the Obligation". But of course one did not "share away" the very best. Or most.
They helped each other wringing the fat roots out of the ground using their sharpened staffs. Worms had already been at the roots. Still, most of them were usable. They brushed off the soil and put the roots in the wickerbaskets on their backs. Then they continued through the forest. Kritt got out her sling again and continued looking for small game. There was not much small game to begin with, and the critters were wary. Once in a while she let a stone fly. So far without hitting anything.
"Least we bring back something." Vijle gazed after another stone diasppearing into the thicket as another dotted hen got safely away. She shrugged her back pack into a more comfortable position.
"Uh." Kritt was busy ignoring the hen and was watching a grey squirrel. "That one looks fat."
"Which? Oh, 'at squirrel. Ah. Too bad it not edible."
"Got a cache somewhere. Try follow it. If we are lucky it just moved into this cache. Quiet'a."
"Ah."
They lost the squirrel a while later. Looking around they saw a small pile of empty nut shells and stripped cones on the ground under a tree. Looking up they could see a hole in the trunk. Kritt let her wicker basket slide to the ground and banged her staff against the tree. Nothing moved up there.
She began her climb. Vijla never was much of a tree climber and she stayed on the ground watching Kritt anxiously.
"Watch it. They can bite."
"Ah. Me can too."
"Me know. Sorry bugger."
"Shoo. Wish this honey tree."
"True. Ye close now."
"Just next to that branch, ah." Kritt pulled her self up on the branch. Her arms shook with the effort. Winter weakness. Grasping the branch with her knees and finding a hold with her free hand she stuck her staff into the the hole and poked around. An angry chitter sounded from within. She pulled out the staff. The squirrel hung from it, like a furry fish on a hook, the long teeth burried deeply in the wood. Kritt flung it and the staff away. She stuck an arm inside and fumbled around. The hole was deep, she could barely reach the buttom.
She found luck. Several handfulls of nuts and shrunken, sour apples. Vijlas eyes shone at the sight of the apples disappearing into Kritts bulging pockets.
"Looking for honey too?"
"Greedy, greedy. Sticky stuff do'na smell like honey."
"Urgh."
"Think take the acorns too?"
"Na. Leave 'at bugger some. Just get all the nuts."
"Me do, Me do. Hey!"
"What?"
"Found an extra chamber--" Kritt fumbled around. "Some house -- sir Squirrel got two bedrooms. Could get stuck in there. The opening is narrow."
"Careful! Me did na bring an axe."
"Me did. Small one. Uh."
"Be a long while chopping tree with that. Find anything?"
"Mostly pine cones. The slim ones. Think he likes them. Ouch!"
"What?"
"Funny nut. Big. Scraped me hand getting it out. What is this?"
"Me do'na know til a'show me."
"Uh. Coming down. Think me got what we can use."
Kritt climbed down, carefully, not wanting to upend her pockets.
"Look."
Vijla gingerly took the huge acorn from Kritts grimy hand. She stroked the shimmery velvety surface with a finger. "Me come to think of them elvish trees in them stories."
"Ah. Me too. Think it takes eating?"
"Ask ye mum."
Kritts mother Mayh was the witch of the village. Vijla sometimes seemed to think her an oracle. Kritt knew "witch" and "bitch" did not rhyme by coincidence.
"Where did sir Squirrel find it?" Kritt looked around seeing nothing but the same mix of well known trees they had wandered through since crossing The Borderstream. "Them elves forests are not really here but somewhere else, sort of. In another place, like the dead. That what mum say."
Vijla shivered and gave Kritt the acorn back. Kritt emptied her special pocket and put the acorn there, making sure the button was properly closed. They put the apples and nuts into their baskets and found Kritts staff. It bore fresh tooth marks, the squirrel was nowhere to be seen.
They continued east, keeping their eyes open, looking mostly for roots and small game. Especially fat squirrels. Finding no fat squirrels but yet another patch where sweet root had survived the winter. Their baskets were getting heavy.
Late in the afternoon they reached Whiteriver. A narrow, rushing river, not much broader than The Borderstream. Kritt climbed yet another tree, looking for the lake Mayh had told them about. She saw it a short distance to the North. They followed Whiteriver upstream, reaching the small lake as dark began to fall. The lake was just on the edge of the rocky area that, if one continued North for another moon or so, would change into the footthills of the Evermountains. They found the small cave just as Mayh had promised. In the last light Vijla gathered wood and got a small fire going while Kritt cut straw to soften their sleeping place.
They had mush of boiled apples and sweetroot to go with the bread. In Kritts opinion the apples made the world of a difference.
"Tomorrow we fish." Kritt poked the fire.
"Ah." Vijla yawned and hugged her legs, resting her chin on her knee. "Think it will be cold tonight?" Her dark brown hair was coming loose.
"Ah. Some."