19th of Fall, 512 AV
“Slave, I wish to be left alone.”
Rohka glared into the woman’s lifeless eyes, her position unchanged. The sound of a bird fluttering through the trees came next, and then silence. She sliced into her apple, eyes still on the slave, her back to the oak, and her legs spread out on the dried leaves of the forest floor. A leather pack lay by her side—its strewn contents were the only company she needed.
The dark-haired girl raised her eating knife and pointed it at the woman. She was new, they’d only bought her some days ago to babysit while the Calicos attended matters that were more important than an insolent teenage girl, most likely. The woman was to be added to her uncles collection of whores just as soon as he got back from business. She was his type, Vida had made sure of that: blond, lean, subservient, a shrill voice.
“But lady, your mother said—“ Rohka thrust her knife forward, making the slave flinch.
“Go!” She yelled, her face drawn in. “We’re done here. I know my way back. Just,” Rohka paused, looking down at the food in her hands, and then back up at the slave who distractedly licked her lips. Roh suppressed a vexed sigh and spoke gently while holding the sting of contempt. “Leave. Now.”
The woman backed away slowly before jogging back to where they’d both come from. Roh smirked with the sneering victory of eliciting obedience when she caught the dirty blond head turning to check on the girl. It had been an hour of silence while the wretched woman tried to make conversation. Roh had refused to say a word up until this point. She had no need to interact with or take orders from a woman of her kind, and it was infuriating to think that her mother would even allow this stranger to take care of her. Why had she not asked one of her cousins, like she usually would? Or one of her aunts? All Rohka had been told was to take the slave with her on her hunt. To let the slave help.
Well she certainly proved to be useful; the woman had pointed out a trail across the battered vegetation, near a tiny stream, then the two of them looked around for a run. Rohka caught wind of little pebble-like scat near some crushed grass. The slave then eagerly began to cover her hands in mud to prep for making a simple snare. It seemed like she knew what she was doing, so Roh gathered dead branches and twigs and gave them to the blond to set up. It took them some time, but they managed to place the staked noose by the run and covered it in leaves, helping to camouflage the trap.
Pleased to be finished, Rohka had sat down a few feet away, hidden behind bushes and trees to wait for the prey. There was no need for the slave now. Home was only a couple miles up north, and Roh was sure that Vida would be told about her rash dismissal. She had at least half a bell before they’d come looking for her.
Rohka watched as the woman disappeared beyond the trees and ate her slice of apple in peace. She preferred to eat it this way. Tasted better; flesh first, each bite would have a bit of the bitter skin, and it just looked prettier. She continued to sit and eat and wait for the sound of a suffering animal—eager to bring home her kill.
No thought was given to the other two apples that had rolled out of her pack, nor to the pieces of parchment, the feather quill, the ink vial, her Lheroa cards, her comb, waterskin, and citizenship papers, all laying out in the open, behind her, out of her immediate sight.
The young girl had no need to care about keeping her things tidy out here.
“Slave, I wish to be left alone.”
Rohka glared into the woman’s lifeless eyes, her position unchanged. The sound of a bird fluttering through the trees came next, and then silence. She sliced into her apple, eyes still on the slave, her back to the oak, and her legs spread out on the dried leaves of the forest floor. A leather pack lay by her side—its strewn contents were the only company she needed.
The dark-haired girl raised her eating knife and pointed it at the woman. She was new, they’d only bought her some days ago to babysit while the Calicos attended matters that were more important than an insolent teenage girl, most likely. The woman was to be added to her uncles collection of whores just as soon as he got back from business. She was his type, Vida had made sure of that: blond, lean, subservient, a shrill voice.
“But lady, your mother said—“ Rohka thrust her knife forward, making the slave flinch.
“Go!” She yelled, her face drawn in. “We’re done here. I know my way back. Just,” Rohka paused, looking down at the food in her hands, and then back up at the slave who distractedly licked her lips. Roh suppressed a vexed sigh and spoke gently while holding the sting of contempt. “Leave. Now.”
The woman backed away slowly before jogging back to where they’d both come from. Roh smirked with the sneering victory of eliciting obedience when she caught the dirty blond head turning to check on the girl. It had been an hour of silence while the wretched woman tried to make conversation. Roh had refused to say a word up until this point. She had no need to interact with or take orders from a woman of her kind, and it was infuriating to think that her mother would even allow this stranger to take care of her. Why had she not asked one of her cousins, like she usually would? Or one of her aunts? All Rohka had been told was to take the slave with her on her hunt. To let the slave help.
Well she certainly proved to be useful; the woman had pointed out a trail across the battered vegetation, near a tiny stream, then the two of them looked around for a run. Rohka caught wind of little pebble-like scat near some crushed grass. The slave then eagerly began to cover her hands in mud to prep for making a simple snare. It seemed like she knew what she was doing, so Roh gathered dead branches and twigs and gave them to the blond to set up. It took them some time, but they managed to place the staked noose by the run and covered it in leaves, helping to camouflage the trap.
Pleased to be finished, Rohka had sat down a few feet away, hidden behind bushes and trees to wait for the prey. There was no need for the slave now. Home was only a couple miles up north, and Roh was sure that Vida would be told about her rash dismissal. She had at least half a bell before they’d come looking for her.
Rohka watched as the woman disappeared beyond the trees and ate her slice of apple in peace. She preferred to eat it this way. Tasted better; flesh first, each bite would have a bit of the bitter skin, and it just looked prettier. She continued to sit and eat and wait for the sound of a suffering animal—eager to bring home her kill.
No thought was given to the other two apples that had rolled out of her pack, nor to the pieces of parchment, the feather quill, the ink vial, her Lheroa cards, her comb, waterskin, and citizenship papers, all laying out in the open, behind her, out of her immediate sight.
The young girl had no need to care about keeping her things tidy out here.
