Oh, dilemma!
An icy breeze blew through the trees the following morning in the middle of winter, a subtle reminder of the fiercer cold that would be coming that night. Hilael subconsciously pulled his wings closer to him as he stared at the creek flowing in front of him. The edges and rocks were iced over, but the center was too swift to be subdued.
"Fancy meeting you out here! I haven't seen you in over a month," came a cheery voice behind him that he knew all too well. Ina came to a stop beside him. "How've you been?"
"Alright," Hilael murmured.
"I don't see how you're not frozen to the rock. It's cold out here! How long have you been sitting there?" Ina said with a shiver and gingerly sat down.
"I hadn't noticed," Hilael replied, just now becoming aware of the burning in his backside from being too chilled. He wouldn't be able to leave now until after she left because he would have to stagger to his feet.
"Must be nice to just shut off your nerves like that," Ina remarked as she shifted her weight. "Oh well, since you're never chatty, I'll catch you up with what's been going on with me."
Hilael suppressed a groan as Ina began to tell him about practicing calligraphy with her mother and her father letting her help him transcribe history books and informational pieces. Her particularly neat handwriting had already caught the eye of other scribes and they were discussing how perhaps she should be one of the decorative workers who embellished other works to make them more visually appealing, but she was still undecided since she had a few more years left to make up her mind.
"Who knows? Maybe I'll even become a writer and make new stories to be passed down! What do you think?" Ina asked.
"I think you should do what makes you happy," Hilael replied, his teeth unintentionally chattering since he couldn't grit them shut while speaking.
"Oh, you poor thing! I've talked too long again," Ina exclaimed and sprang up. "Come on, time to go back to the den before you're a pupcicle."
Hilael audibly groaned this time, not just from the pun, but also as he was hauled to his feet and came to realize just how numb his legs had become. To his frustration, Ina held him by his arm until he was stable enough to stand on his own.
"How are your studies going with your granddam? Still on your way to being a proficient healer?" Ina asked as they began to walk back to the Scissortail den.
"I suppose so," Hilael answered her.
"'Suppose so'? Doesn't anything fire you up?" Ina asked playfully as she grabbed his arm again. She let go when she felt Hilael recoil. It seemed his boundaries were perpetually the battlefield upon which she had to fight for her friendship with him.
Hilael merely grunted. He did not want to lie to her, but he didn't want to talk to her either.
"Nobody can glare at a half-frozen creek like that and not have a passion for something," Ina teased as she wagged a finger at him. "Whatever it is, you need to go for it. You should do what makes you happy too!"
Hilael just looked away bashfully. Right now, what made him happy was teaching Gadon about medicine. Ina had suggested writing down what he knew once, and while he hadn't been comfortable pursuing the idea with her, he had been testing the possibility of sharing data with others through the informal lessons. He had found he did enjoy it to some degree. Which meant now it was possible he would face the future embarassment of having to admit to her he would want her to document the techniques and remedies he had learned.
Ina bid him a fond farewell when they arrived in the great chamber, and left him to his brooding as she skipped off to her home.
Fourteen wonderful nights of Dolagog! What a holiday! I look forward to doing this again next year. Onward into the cold, barrenness of winter!
~ Shanku Ravenwing
Notes & Commentary
May 17, 2018, Thursday
Oh, dilemma!
Believe it or not, but kurach do wear shoes! They have to trim their toenails a bit during winter for it, but they'll wear some thick socks and sandals to keep their feet. Yes, fashion faux pas for humans, but kurach don't care.
This past weekend we went to Homestead Hollow in Springville. It's an arts and crafts festival, pretty much the same as the harvest festivals I like to go to in the autumn, except Homestead Hollow is a pretty big event in the spring. It was a very pleasant trip. There were a few old cabins that had people in costume inside. And I mean "old". One cabin had the kitchen in a separate building, and another was more modern since it had the kitchen in the house and with a dry sink. (No plumbing. Just a fancy stand for a wash basin.) It felt like home. Not sure why, it's not like I spent a lot of time in traditional cabins, even though some of my recent kin lived in them. The stage had the Clog Wild Cloggers performing. I heard some banjos coming from a wagon, and turns out I was related to one of the players. Hadn't seen him in years! Arts, crafts, bluegrass, clogging, old cabins, a wee stream, and traditional and modern food all out in a field in the middle of the woods and craggy rocks? Hell yeah. I would love to travel the entire world and experience all the food, music, and customs I could of every wonderful culture out there, but the Appalachian mountains (well, the foothills of them) will always be home. 
...I wish that dumbass was here to see how awesome a job I have done cleaning the four years of grime and dirt that was allowed to collect, but they'd probably just brush me off again. I am so sore! I have cleaned every day, all day long, since Sunday. I'm taking a day off.
...
And still did two loads of laundry anyway. So much work to do around the house!
Chapter Notes:
Hilael was the unofficial (or probably quite obvious) focus of this chapter. I like my broody little mutt. 
Tags - Just Another Day -
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