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A random excerpt from one of my Sable & Aster brainstorming story files. A random moment in the woods.

https://sableandaster.com/

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Soon Sable stopped pacing and sat down on the log that served as a seat next to the fire pit. She was bored. She supposed she could go gathering, but they already had a sizable stash of berries and greens that needed eating. Besides, gathering was long, tiring, boring work.

She picked up a stick that balanced on the edge of the fire and started drawing pictures in the dirt next to her. She drew a rough representation of Aster, with her long tail and two horns, and giggled as she drew squiggly lines depicting fire coming out of her mouth. “Raaaawwrr,” Sable whispered, which brought about more laughing. The idea of Aster being able to breathe fire like the dragons in stories was absurd. Sure, Aster had big teeth and claws and was a better hunter than any other creature out there, but she wasn’t a monster. She could be angry and dangerous, but in Sable’s opinion, if you were stupid enough to anger a dragon enough for it to want to kill you, then you probably deserved it.

Sable scratched Aster’s name into the dirt beside the picture, shoved the last bit of meat into her mouth and leant back to chew, looking up into the sky. Nothing but blue.

Without even realizing it, Sable started to hum. A repetitive, lively tune about a bird getting lost in a blue sky. If asked, Sable wouldn’t be able to tell where she had learnt it from. It was one of those eternal tunes etched in the memories from before she could remember.

Sable went silent and sat up sharply. She stared off into the trees to her left, directly across from the burned out tree. She peered into the branches but could see nothing; however, the sound of rustling branches, footsteps and murmuring voices were unmistakable.

She got to her feet and jogged to her shelter, taking up a make-shift spear that was leaning against the tree’s trunk. She spun back toward the sounds and brandished it, her heart racing… the voices were getting louder now, more distinct.

She didn’t know what to do. Every inch of her body wanted her to hide within her tree and wait until it went away. However, the fear of what would happen if her home was discovered seized her… she couldn’t let them find this place, not ever.

As quietly as possible she made her way to the tree line and wove through the tree trunks into the shade. The forest here was reasonably light and airy; the underbrush wasn’t as thick as it was in other parts of the forest. That made it great for speed, but not so great for hiding. She moved from tree-trunk to tree-trunk, trying not to be heard, as the ground sloped gradually downward away from her shelter.

The voices grew louder, until she reached the edge of a small cliff; below it wound a well-used deer-path that she and Aster often used if they needed to go to the village. A great big cedar tree, wider across than a horse is long, leaned precariously over the small cliff, its roots exposed in the scree caused by the ground falling away. Sable nestled into a hollow between two reaches of roots still anchoring it strongly to the ground, and waited, out of sight of the path below. The voices were clearly heard, now.

“…She’s nice,” a gruff, low, voice said. “But I don’t think we’re her type, if you know what I mean.”

“What?” A higher, slightly nasally voice answered. “What do you mean? She and the potter live alone in that house, if she was sweet on someone wouldn’t it be obvious? I tell you, she’s just waiting for her knight to ride up and rescue her, and I tell you, I’m her knight.”

The first voice laughed, a bellowing laugh that would have scared away any game within a couple miles. Sable frowned, wondering what kind of hunters these were to be making so much noise when they were supposed to be working…

“What’s so funny?” The nasally voice asked. The two of them had stopped walking.

“You are, Thad,” the low voice answered. There was a scrape of boots on dirt and the creak of leather and jangling of metal. “Good gods, I need to sit down for a moment and catch my breath. You’ll be the death of me, mate.”

The nasally-voiced man, Thad, responded. “You’re an ass, you know that?” He snarled. “Just because I saw her first, you think–“

“Thad, Thad!” The gruff-voiced man’s voice still echoed with mirth. “Shut up and listen, will you?” Sable heard an exaggerated sigh, which she guessed came from Thad.

“The baker lives with the potter, yes?” The gruff voice said. There was silence. “And she hasn’t shown interest in a guy since the potter moved in, yes?” More silence. “Why do you think that is, Thad? Think about it.” Yet more silence.

“Ah,” Sable could barely hear Thad’s voice. “I see. She and the potter are sweet on each other.”

“Finally, he gets it!” The first man said.

“I just thought…” Thad said, but he seemed to reconsider his words. “Damn. Damn it Joss, you’re right. You’re right.”

“Damn right, I’m right,” The gruff-voiced man, Joss, said. “Now do you believe me that she’s a lost cause? Can we continue now, or are you going to give me another reason to laugh myself to death?”

“She was kind to me, though,” Thad continued. “She gave me three sweet rolls for the price of two, and invited me to stay for tea once. I thought–“

“Oh god’s bonnet, Thad, she did that because you’re a good customer and, dare I even say it, a friend. Not every woman who’s nice to you wants to jump your bones, jackass.”

Thad was silent.

“Ah, come on,” Joss’ voice became kinder, and it sounded like he stood up. “There are lots of beautiful ladies in this town. Lots of beautiful gentlemen, too, if they’re more to your liking.” He let out a laugh again. “Trust me, we’ll find you a good’un. And if not, we’ll be done with this assignment and be back in the capital soon enough.”

Thad sighed. “It’s just… she was perfect, Joss. She is perfect.”

It was Joss’ turn to sigh. “C’mon, Thad. She can still be a good friend. Besides, what about whatshername, Dana, Dina…”

“Delilah?” Thad offered.

“Yeah, Delilah!” There was a scraping of boots as they continued to walk. “She was giving you some serious eyes at the tavern the other night.”

“Really?”

“Trust me,” Joss said significantly, “She’s sweeter for you than Audrey’s sweet rolls.”

“Huh…” Thad’s voice said, as they moved farther to Sable’s right along the deer path.

Sable rolled her eyes. Adults were always worrying about such stupid things. Carefully, she leaned over the edge of the cedar tree to catch a glimpse of them, moving down the deer path below her, just before they became obscured by trees. She had to stifle a gasp.

These men weren’t mere hunters. These men were warriors. The bigger guy, Joss by the sound of his voice, was wearing very expensive looking quilted leather armour and had a massive crossbow strapped to his back along with a quiver of extra bolts. At his belt hung a sword that was longer than Sable was tall. The way he casually draped his hand on the hilt as he walked made her believe he was very comfortable using it.

The other man, Thad, was lithe and shorter than Joss. His body was obscured by a richly-coloured violet cloak, and in his right hand he walked with a large spear-like weapon, its metal head curved menacingly on its sharp edge. The way it glistened showed it was well oiled and cared for, though it did show scuffs and marks indicating it, too, was well used.

Sable’s mind worked. What on earth were they doing here? Why were they wandering the deer trails in the middle of the forest so far from the village? She waited a short while until they were safely far enough away, then gathered her courage and continued following them. She took care to move as silently as possible through the sparse underbrush, using it to hide her from their notice, following just close enough behind them to listen in on their conversation.

“…Don’t know why we agreed to this in the first place,” Joss complained, the mirth gone out of his voice. “So far it’s been a lovely hike, but the gods know I’d like to be back in the tavern right now with a cool drink.”

“The folk were scared, Joss,” Thad replied. Sable eyed them, watching as he carried his spear weapon lazily, as if it weighed nothing. “It makes them safer knowing we’re out here looking for it.”

“If you ask me, dragons are fairy tales anyhow,” Joss growled. Sable’s blood went cold at the mention of dragons. “Nobody ain’t seen one of them for near a hundred years. Place just ain’t magical enough for them anymore. And a good thing, too!” His voice rose as he shouted up at the tree branches.

“Joss!” Thad hissed, slapping him hard on the shoulder. Joss winced, even though Thad had to go on his tip-toes to reach. “Now you are being an ass. You should know better than to make fun of something you don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand it plenty,” Joss said, as they continued walking. Sable stayed still, too scared to move. “The Gods are rewarding us for our piety by challenging the hold those creatures have over this land. They’re giving the land to us, Thad! We should be singing the Gods’ praises as we walk…”

At that point Sable could no longer make out their words. She sat in silence for a long moment, her heart pounding, wondering at what they said. They were looking for a dragon? Then they must be looking for Aster!

Sable waited until she could barely hear their voices any longer, then stood up and turned back the way she came– and immediately had to stifle a squeal of surprise. Aster was crouched behind the trunk of a large cedar right behind her.

“Aster!” She hissed, “What are you doing here?”

Aster stood and lead the way back up the incline toward their home. Sable marvelled at the way she wound through the branches and underbrush, moving more silently than a cougar. Sable followed, trying to emulate her, but she felt like a noisy, clumsy goat in comparison.

“I heard them, and came to make sure they wouldn’t find you,” Aster replied, her voice quiet. “It was very dangerous of you to eavesdrop on them, by the way.”

“I wasn’t seen!” Sable replied desperately, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. “I don’t know what I would have done if they had found our tree, I had to make sure they wouldn’t find it–“

“Shhh, Sable,” Aster’s voice cooed. “It’s all right. It was dangerous, but you were brave, and cautious. You did very well.”

Though Sable’s heart continued to race, she felt a warm fuzzy feeling spread through her chest. That was the first time Aster had ever complimented her so outright.

Weasel Falls

So take my body, dear Weasel My flesh I give to you to rend My blood I give to slake your thirst So that the violence may end.

You shan't take my heart, dear Weasel Though my body be forever dead My heart lives on in yonder wood And souls of those who march ahead.

We will not fear you, dear Weasel The smallest of us will heed the calls To fight with love and strength of heart Until the day the Weasel falls.


[An old poem that I never got the hang of polishing. Sung by the warriors of a race of mice, who march in defence of their homeland against the dreaded Weasel.]

I don’t know why I’m here.

The wind was blowing, making the grass hiss and whisper all around me. I lifted my knee and scratched at an itch there. I looked to the sky, blue on blue. I took a deep breath tasting the cool, clear air.

I saw a shape emerge from the trees at the bottom of the hill. I instantly recognized the form and walk of Ewen, bent against the press of the wind, as he made his trudging way up the hill towards me.

I stared over the lip of the hill and off into the horizon, where the sea shone against the immutable sky. It was almost imperceptible at this distance, but occasionally I saw a small jet of mist shoot from the water into the sky, accompanied by a hulking dark form.

Ewen reached me. I listened to his laboured breathing as he sat heavily beside me. He tugged his jacket tight around his shoulders and followed my gaze out toward the sea.

We sat in silence for some time, listening to the susurrus of the grass, feeling the chill of the ocean air on our faces. A couple of seagulls passed overhead, their cacophonous calls to each other piercing the quiet. Ewen’s breath was irregular, sometimes inhaling, pausing, then sighing. I could tell he was trying to work up the nerve to speak.

“Why am I here, Ewen?” I asked, breaking the silence.

He sighed again. “Thea… I’m leaving, you know.”

“Yes,” I replied. “I knew that.”

“Ah.” He replied. “To be honest, I thought you’d be more broken up about it.”

I took a deep breath. “I’ve been ‘broken up’ over you for most of my adult life,” I replied, trying to keep my voice calm. “I think we’re both beyond such things.”

The silence descended again. Ewen’s hands twitched in his lap, unable to sit still.

“Are you not at all upset?” He asked quietly. “I thought of all people…”

I inhaled sharply and had to fight off a wave of anger which swept over me. “I think you need to stop telling me how I should feel,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ve been here, waiting for years for you to decide how you feel about me. I’ve made myself miserable waiting for you, while you go and do whatever pleases you, content that I will always be there to pick you up when you deign to give any thought to me.” I paused. “I’m sorry, Ewen, but it’s too late now. I’m done.”

After a few moments, Ewen stood. “So that’s how you feel,” He said. “I had hoped that… well, never mind.”

He took a few steps then paused again. “I wish you would think well of me,” he said. “Your esteem of me is important–”

“You have used me too much,” I hissed. “And I will be happy to see you gone from my life.”

I glared at him for a moment more, then he turned his back to me and walked away. I watched him traverse the path he had taken, back down the hill to the trees, where he disappeared.

I looked back up to the glittering horizon. A whale breached, causing white foam to spray into the sky. I breathed the sea air. I heard another seagull’s call. The chill highlighted a tear which rolled down my cheek.

I smiled. I was glad to be there.