64th of Summer - early
Walking from her property into the core of the settlement took just over a bell, most days. Today, Anais found herself making the journey at a much slower pace – her exploits from the previous day’s struggle with the rocks made the exercise more a test of will than physical ability. Wincing, she reached an arm behind herself, gingerly patting and prodding at the sore muscles and scraped skin on her back. It wasn’t a serious injury, she was nearly certain, but it was uncomfortable and made progress on her land even slower. Randal was due to begin framing up her construction in just a few days, and Anais wanted to be able to help as much as possible. For that reason, she’d decided to pay her first visit to the Panacea, and see the healers, Jansen and Kalum.
Unfortunately, the walk in was over uneven ground and each test of her balance sent a small twinge through the muscles of her back; to avoid those twinges, Anais was walking much more stiffly than usual, and other muscles were starting to complain about the overcompensation. Maybe if I had something to lean on, this would be easier.
The jungle was full of greenery and small vegetation; the Svefra stopped walking to look around, hoping to see a conveniently available stick or branch that she could use to lean on. Picking her way carefully to the side of the worn pathway, she bent as low as was comfortable and examined the underbrush for prospects. Nothing appeared readily available, but there was a sturdy stand of the bamboo that was common in Syka. Still, she nearly passed it by – the reason for her search was to relieve the stress on her back, not make it worse by hacking away at plants. She had gone so far as to take a few steps away before reconsidering, this might be the best you find. Better to use the energy cutting it down now before you’re tired and sore from the walking.
It was the voice of logic, her Aunt’s attitude, if not her words, and the ghost of a pained smile floated across her face for a moment. Aunt Molly had never been one to put off unpleasant chores, in this case the cutting of the bamboo, and Anais discovered that the attitude had rubbed off on her. With a sigh, and more than a bit of reluctance, she stepped off the pathway, to the stand of bamboo. Much of Syka’s construction used the stuff, in one form or another; if it were strong enough to hold up buildings, surely it was strong enough for her to lean on as she walked. Thick stalks grew deeper into the stand, but the way was crowded and there was little room for her to cut one down within the heart of the plants. It would have to be a smaller plant, she reasoned, absently shaking one as she considered the others.
Rustling leaves accompanied the movement, and drops of water fell, dew speckling her arms and hair as she stood there. The growth along the outside of the bamboo was thinner, the one in her hand flexed slightly as she leaned against it, but seemed otherwise sturdy enough. Though she wanted one of the thicker and, she assumed, stronger older canes, Anais discounted them for the effort they would take to approach, let alone cut down. Left with the younger, smaller ones to choose from, the one in her hand seemed as likely as any other; from the ground to the top, it stood just a foot above her head, and was narrow enough that her fingers could wrap comfortably around it. Having nothing else to base her choice on, she shrugged, regretted the movement, and pulled her cutlass from its home at her waist.
The blade was sharp, and if she’d had full range of motion Anais knew it could have made short work of the slender cane in front of her. As it was, it was a chore simply to bend her body to the proper angle, her back complaining all the while. Once low enough, she attempted to swing the blade in a short arc, succeeding only in making a shallow slice in the outer layer of the bamboo. Her next few tries yielded the same results, and Anais groaned in frustration, finally giving up on the traditional swinging movements of the weapon and resorting to sawing it back and forth in the channel she was creating. The cutlass was not serrated, and progress wasn’t as fast as she would have liked, but eventually the blade had dug more than halfway through its target, and the bamboo had begun to lean to the side, opening the gap she had created even further.
Standing slowly, Anais pushed down on the bamboo, pressing its length toward the ground, hoping that the movement would do some more of the separation for her. The bamboo proved surprisingly flexible, though, and her weight against it did little other than hold the bamboo taut, as she ran her cutlass back and forth again over it. The position was awkward, requiring balance and muscles that had been much-abused lately, so when the plant began to shear off from itself, stripping away in a jagged peel of green, Anais couldn’t help the triumphant sound that escaped, part groan and part laugh, to mingle with the sounds of the jungle.
Securing her cutlass, she made one last wince-inducing bend to pick up her new ‘staff’ – the jagged end wasn’t too uneven, and would hopefully not be more trouble than it was worth in the end. Above her head, the tip of the cane waved and bobbed with her movements as she began using it to carefully pick her way back on to the path toward the core. Anais tested her weight against it, pleased to note that the cane seemed more than able to hold her, and she leaned on it as she resumed her trek.
Unfortunately, the walk in was over uneven ground and each test of her balance sent a small twinge through the muscles of her back; to avoid those twinges, Anais was walking much more stiffly than usual, and other muscles were starting to complain about the overcompensation. Maybe if I had something to lean on, this would be easier.
The jungle was full of greenery and small vegetation; the Svefra stopped walking to look around, hoping to see a conveniently available stick or branch that she could use to lean on. Picking her way carefully to the side of the worn pathway, she bent as low as was comfortable and examined the underbrush for prospects. Nothing appeared readily available, but there was a sturdy stand of the bamboo that was common in Syka. Still, she nearly passed it by – the reason for her search was to relieve the stress on her back, not make it worse by hacking away at plants. She had gone so far as to take a few steps away before reconsidering, this might be the best you find. Better to use the energy cutting it down now before you’re tired and sore from the walking.
It was the voice of logic, her Aunt’s attitude, if not her words, and the ghost of a pained smile floated across her face for a moment. Aunt Molly had never been one to put off unpleasant chores, in this case the cutting of the bamboo, and Anais discovered that the attitude had rubbed off on her. With a sigh, and more than a bit of reluctance, she stepped off the pathway, to the stand of bamboo. Much of Syka’s construction used the stuff, in one form or another; if it were strong enough to hold up buildings, surely it was strong enough for her to lean on as she walked. Thick stalks grew deeper into the stand, but the way was crowded and there was little room for her to cut one down within the heart of the plants. It would have to be a smaller plant, she reasoned, absently shaking one as she considered the others.
Rustling leaves accompanied the movement, and drops of water fell, dew speckling her arms and hair as she stood there. The growth along the outside of the bamboo was thinner, the one in her hand flexed slightly as she leaned against it, but seemed otherwise sturdy enough. Though she wanted one of the thicker and, she assumed, stronger older canes, Anais discounted them for the effort they would take to approach, let alone cut down. Left with the younger, smaller ones to choose from, the one in her hand seemed as likely as any other; from the ground to the top, it stood just a foot above her head, and was narrow enough that her fingers could wrap comfortably around it. Having nothing else to base her choice on, she shrugged, regretted the movement, and pulled her cutlass from its home at her waist.
The blade was sharp, and if she’d had full range of motion Anais knew it could have made short work of the slender cane in front of her. As it was, it was a chore simply to bend her body to the proper angle, her back complaining all the while. Once low enough, she attempted to swing the blade in a short arc, succeeding only in making a shallow slice in the outer layer of the bamboo. Her next few tries yielded the same results, and Anais groaned in frustration, finally giving up on the traditional swinging movements of the weapon and resorting to sawing it back and forth in the channel she was creating. The cutlass was not serrated, and progress wasn’t as fast as she would have liked, but eventually the blade had dug more than halfway through its target, and the bamboo had begun to lean to the side, opening the gap she had created even further.
Standing slowly, Anais pushed down on the bamboo, pressing its length toward the ground, hoping that the movement would do some more of the separation for her. The bamboo proved surprisingly flexible, though, and her weight against it did little other than hold the bamboo taut, as she ran her cutlass back and forth again over it. The position was awkward, requiring balance and muscles that had been much-abused lately, so when the plant began to shear off from itself, stripping away in a jagged peel of green, Anais couldn’t help the triumphant sound that escaped, part groan and part laugh, to mingle with the sounds of the jungle.
Securing her cutlass, she made one last wince-inducing bend to pick up her new ‘staff’ – the jagged end wasn’t too uneven, and would hopefully not be more trouble than it was worth in the end. Above her head, the tip of the cane waved and bobbed with her movements as she began using it to carefully pick her way back on to the path toward the core. Anais tested her weight against it, pleased to note that the cane seemed more than able to hold her, and she leaned on it as she resumed her trek.
Word count 1003
