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And mono-syllabic, apparently. “I meant physically.”
“I’m fine, Oaklyn,” he grouses, turning to look at me. “No need to hover.”
Ooh, someone is grumpy today! “Who pissed in your Cheerios?” I tease.
Bafflement spreads across his face. “What?”
I shake my head. “Never mind. What are you thinking about?”
“I’m trying to decide what to do. I went back to the village this morning, but it’s deserted, except for bodies. I don’t know where my tribe is. And we can’t make it down the mountain, because of downed trees and boulders. We’re trapped up here, alone.”
Well, that’s not ideal. But it’s also not entirely true, I don’t think. “Trees and boulders can be climbed over or skirted. It might take a while, but we can get down the mountain if we really need to.” Besides, he’s enormous. Can’t he just pick up the fallen trees and toss them out of the way?
He shrugs. “Perhaps. But that is not where my tribe would be. They would never headdown, into human territory.”
“Well, maybe they’re just scattered at the moment. Could be everyone took cover like we did, right?”
“It is possible. I don’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened before. We’ve endured raids, yes, but not ones where we were so outnumbered. And so battered by the weather. The Galkaj planned it perfectly.”
“Goody for them,” I mutter. His bad mood is rubbing off on me. Not to mention, I’m hungry. And being hungry makes me grouchy. “We should find some food,” I say.
With my dryad heritage, I’m instinctively good at foraging for things like berries and edible mushrooms. Finding anything in the wrecked, muddy forest might be a challenge, though.
“Maybe we should go back to the village,” I suggest, though I’m not eager to stumble upon the bodies he mentioned. “Again. See if we can find food there, and also check on whether anyone else has returned by now. Or look for signs to see where they all went.”
“I already checked for signs. If there were any, they were washed away by the storm.”
“Well, we can’t just sit here feeling sorry for ourselves. So what’s the plan?”
It occurs to me, again, that this is my chance. I could suggest we split up to search, and then try to make my way back to Haven’s Hollow.
But the trouble is, it’s still raining, the paths are clogged with storm debris, and I don’t have any food or supplies. My odds of survival are actually better if I stay here and help Bradoc.
“You’re right,” he finally says. “We will return to the village and see if others have returned. We will eat and decide what to do with the bodies, as well.”
I swallow hard, not relishing the thought of that last part. “Lead the way, then.”
Bradoc
I bringOaklyn back to the village, both of us quiet as we clamber through the forest rubble. I wonder what she’s thinking, but I don’t ask. I am not interested in conversation at the moment.
All of my thoughts are directed at the task ahead: finding my people, restoring my home, burying my dead.
When we arrive, it looks much as before. Quiet and empty, several buildings damaged. No sign of any life.
I take Oaklyn straight to my own cabin, which sustained the raid just fine. There are a few things in my larder she can eat, and that will keep her busy while I deal with the most pressing task ahead of me.
“Wait here,” I tell her. “Eat as much as you want. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Where are you going?” she asks in a subdued voice.
“I need to assess the dead,” I say. “See if they are my people, or if they are Galkaj. And deal with the bodies accordingly.”
“Do you have a funeral ritual?”
I nod. “Yes. Normally, warriors are burned on a pyre, while women, children, and the elderly are given a burial. But with the rain, I cannot burn anyone. And without the rest of the village here, I cannot give them proper rites. But I also cannot leave the bodies lying about. They will fester.”
“What can I do to help?” she asks in the same quiet, solemn tone.
