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Tuesday, 7 June 2016

Of Ash And Dew - Twelve

   I awoke last night by contact. Something was touching me, gently tugging at my hair, my clothing. An animal, I had first thought, so I'd not woken with much urgency since it seemed only to be curious rather than aggressive, but when I did open my eyes I came face to face with a thief.
   I attacked in fright - quite possibly the first time I've done so without real aggressive intent for a week, but lash out I did. I'd only intended to get her away, to stop her from stealing whatever she sought, but I'd startled her so much she'd stumbled and injured her leg on a root. She escaped with a limp, but by that point I was more concerned with what she'd tried to take.
   Fortunately I'd been woken before she could succeed, and I can only guess she was simply searching for valuables and had no idea I possessed the amulet, unlike the thief who had stolen it from my family home - just how he'd known what we had, I still don't know. But if she'd found it, she would certainly have taken it, too.
   Damned thieves.
   I'm understanding more and more why my tribe keeps to its own territories. This is a dangerous world, and the people within it are selfish and desperate. It's almost a depressing thought, that people live and survive in this state and believe it to be right and normal - I assume they do, at any rate, as none seem to feel remorse or regret at whatever they do, and people like Egan, willing to take in and care for not only a stranger, but a person entirely different from themselves, are a rarity indeed.

   I feel as though I'm calming now, thinking clearer. Either that or my thoughts have become numbing. I still have little idea what to do with myself, and I feel no shame in admitting that I spent the previous night to last crying as the weight of the situation finally hit me. I got little sleep, and that which I managed to snatch was filled with dreams I'd rather forget - but at least it wasn't a dead sleep. And the next morning I had risen, stood up, and continued to walk, as if the demons of the night that twisted thoughts and darkened hearts had melted away with the rising of the sun.
   I feel...not hope, but something...something lighter now than anger. Perhaps Tída has turned her attention onto me at last. It had rained yesterday afternoon and I'd walked on through it. Perhaps her will has washed away some of my darkness...
   Though I still feel my heart race in panic at whatever may befall me next. Nothing beyond the borders of my people's land has been safe. Even the land itself feels hostile.



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