Flashback [Tree Retreat] A Tree Grows in Avanthal

[Kirsi Winterflame]

Timestamp: 54th Spring, 498AV, 10th Bell

The Tree Retreat. Re-tree-t. Kirsi played with the word in her head, uselessly postponing what her grandfather had termed a 'necessary education.' She still didn't understand what had set the man off so; she'd rarely seen him look so -- forbidding. He'd been very angry with her.

Her bottom lip trembled at the memory, the hot sting of tears threatened just behind her eyes. She kicked at the ground, hard; her boot was little protection against the impact of the frozen ground. A tear slipped past her lashes, and Kirsi angrily swiped at it with her sleeve.

Her foot hurt.

It was a transparent excuse, but what she would tell anyone who happened to notice the hurt look in her eyes, or the telltale wetness of tears on her face. Kirsi shuffled along the stairway as she replayed the unpleasant scene again in her mind:

"Go. Take this, and these", Enderhel's sweeping arm indicated all the tiny slivers of wood she had carved off and the once-whole block of wood that she had mutilated in her boredom. "Leave your tools - you've dulled them to the point of uselessness, in any case. It takes no talent," he'd admonished the girl, quietly but none-too-gently, "to shave away everything in the wood. This is not a wreckage to be proud of. It is wasteful. Disrespectful. You will not carve until you have obtained the necessary education."

The pronouncement had come, and was inarguable. Kirsi's grandfather had made up his mind, and would not be swayed. When she had, somewhat flippantly, asked how she should get that education if he wouldn't teach her, Enderhel had sent her to the Retreat.

[Kirsi Winterflame]

10th Bell, 30th Chime

Stomping her feet, Kirsi made her way to the tree, her tree. The woman at the entrance to the retreat had simply nodded silently at her and handed her a note from her grandfather:

"Kirsi - I know you think this unduly harsh. Maybe it is so. I do not claim to be a wise man, or a teacher. But I have lessons to teach you. You have heard me speak of Caiyha, of the Goddess of Flora and Fauna. There is a reason, child. Caiyha holds sway over the woods, the woods I carve and you will carve. Also, she is keeper of the animals, the subjects that I hold most dear and will be best able to teach you. But before you can learn anything, you must learn respect. This tree I have watched for years. Since it was small, small as yourself. It stretches, tall and majestic, soaring to the sky - but it has taken years. Measure this tree, inspect it, memorize it. When you know this tree as well as you know yourself, you will have studied it enough.

We will not speak of carving again for the rest of the season."

It was not a letter bound to overjoy a young girl, and Kirsi found herself making faces in her mind at the words on the page. Still, she made her temper-laden way over to the tree her grandfather had chosen for her.

It wasn't much of a tree. At least not in Kirsi's mind. It was tall, certainly, and solid. Green on top. In other words, a tree like any other. She could have fit her arms around the trunk completely, had she been so inclined. But, since the tree was currently the focus of her punishment - punishment for what? Carving?! - she was not feeling very warm toward it at the moment. What, exactly, was she supposed to learn from studying a tree, anyway?

Kirsi flopped herself down at the base of the tree, a heavy and dramatic sigh on her lips. Knowing that her grandfather would certainly hear about it if she left - the Tree Retreat was largely maintained by Winterflames, after all - she resigned herself to a long and boring spring spent watching this tree do absolutely nothing and pretending to learn something from it. But she was determined to learn nothing from the tree. Not that that would be hard. Trees just stood there, all hard and rough and boring.

So, to keep her mind entertained, Kirsi began drawing pictures in the soil that had sprouted 'her' tree. First a random shape, a circle. Then a couple lines, extending downward. Maybe a bit of a sharp squiggle across the bottom... Kirsi's eyes narrowed in frustration and she wiped her hand across what she had drawn. All this stupid talk about trees and she'd gone and drawn one in the petching dirt!

Her eyes widened, and she quickly turned her head from side to side, looking for witnesses. She'd just said 'petching' - in her mind, but that still counted, right? A giggle escaped her lips. Adults said stuff like that. Like... Petch. But for Kirsi, it was a new experience; she felt suddenly more adult, more mature and independent. The giddy excitement was almost enough for her to forget why she'd said it in the first place.

Stupid tree.

Petching tree.

Petch. And giggle.

[Kirsi Winterflame]

11th Bell

Grawrawr.

Red-faced, Kirsi glanced surreptitiously around to see if anyone else had heard. Her stomach was just as bored as the rest of her, and wanted food. She picked through her pack' her mother hadn't exactly packed the family's food supply in here; appetite being influenced by her general mood, Kirsi couldn't find a thing that she felt like eating.

Grrawr.

With a sigh, she plucked out the first thing her hand landed on - walnuts and dried cherries. Normally one of her favorites, even this small snack was sniffed at in disdain. Still, the gnawing hunger in her gut had her popping bits of fruit and nuts into her mouth even as she tried to pretend she neither needed nor wanted them. Kirsi knew she was being silly. At the same time, she was completely unable to stop herself.

Thinking about her grandfather, her own actions, and how angry she had made him, she cringed a bit. Now that she'd had time away from everyone, and from that incriminating pile of wood shavings - had she really spent bells carving shaving after shaving off of a wood block? She could sort of, maybe, kind of see why Grandpa had been angry with her. Enderhel wasted nothing. She supposed, if she'd bothered to think about it before, she probably would have realized he wouldn't be nearly as impressed with her mutilating the wood as she had been. At the time, though, she'd thought it was great that she was practicing, on her own, and making all those pretty, curling slips of wood pile up at her feet. And the smell had been divine.

She'd selected a block of pine, not much bigger than her hand, and scraped, chiseled, and gouged at it until the whole arvinta had smelled of woods and the outdoors. In the end, the better part of the wood had been reduced to nothing more than soft and fragrant kindling. A bit of shame crept into her eyes, tinging them yellow. Ok. So she'd waster a block of wood. What was the big deal, though, really? The tree she sat before could probably supply hundreds of blocks of wood. Thousands, even. She poked the tree with one finger, then smacked at it with her entire hand.

"Its not the tree's fault, child," a older woman, whose face was familiar, even if Kirsi couldn't think of a name, walked past Kirsi and the tree. The woman patter the tree gently as she passed, and gave Kirsi a stern sort of frown, disapproval obvious, as she made her way through the retreat.

Great. Grandfather would probably hear about that, too. She was supposed to be studying the tree, and the first time she touched it, she hit it. And got caught. The tree wasn't bothered by it, but she knew Enderhel would be. She heaved a sigh, heavily weighted with self-pity. Feeling sorry for herself, hungry, and irritated all at once, Kirsi decided that maybe another day would be better for 'studying' trees. Right now she wanted lunch. And a hug. And her mother.