Sweat beaded across Nivi's brow as she planted the last of her saplings for the day. Dawn was beginning to rise over the Shroud's canopy though it was hard to tell this deep into its wood; songbirds are what gave it away, only certain ones sang at this particular time of day. The thicker the forest got the various other means you learned to tell time, most commonly through bird or insect song, sometimes by what flowers were blooming or what frons were curled upon themselves.
Looking around at the desolate, burnt ground she could still make out where certain tents stood and the remains of canopy beds that had fallen from their host branches. Her memories were still hazy of this place she once called home. 'Home' felt like a dirty word when standing in this once-Keeper village.
Guilt gnawed on her insides as she peered at every little pile of disturbed earth. Each spot filled with a tree sapling or a flower sprout. Each in vague memory of someone she was certain she once knew but were a shade in her mind; sometimes only a fur pattern, tail shape, eye color, or assigned job. All of them a life her brother had claimed. All of them apart of something monstrous and terrible and yet.. they were who she had come to know as sisters. As her tribe.
Did Ranirus visit here? Would he know what these plants meant? Would he think it just some random person of the shroud trying to bring life to burnt grounds or recognize them as grave markers?
She wasn't sure she should even care enough to bring life back to this place and yet some part of her nagged that it must be done. That lingering spirits filled with spite might finally find rest in knowing at least one person remembered who they were. "If you can even call it a memory.." She murmured.
Even with that flood of images from her past slapping her in the face much of it still felt just out of her grasp. Like recognizing a face but never their name nor voice. Knowing that you know them but you're not sure from where or if they were a friend or someone who upset you.
This tribe had taken her from her father.. had done terrible things to her brother- She herself remembered vaguely being there and helping in the hunt. She hadn't known he was kin at the time. Hadn't known what she was doing was wrong, the feeling of comradery in a hunt had been exhilarating and removed any true doubt from her mind. Yet it felt like she was reflecting back on a stranger; how had she not seen her past deeds for what they were? Terrible. Horrifying. Immoral. Murderous. The culling of innocent lives simply for being different, simply because she was told to.
Cupping her hand over the small plant and she gave it a bit of aetherical encouragement. She could feel it root without having to actually physically witness it, drawing her fingers away and rising to her feet. The long fluff of her tail curled inward and wrapped around her ankle.
These people who used to be her tribe did not deserve forgiveness, she didn't deserve it either.. but they at least deserved peace. They were free from whatever hatred they harbored to make them do the things they did. The things she had done.
Staring down at earth-covered hands Nivi felt her body grow heavy with exhaustion. Mud turned crimson, thick and congealed as blood from a kill long slain, it dripped down her apron and coated her bare feet. She stared, the warmth familiar and unnerving. Pale hands began to tremble as indigo eyes widened in alarm. "This is not real." She whispered as the scent of copper filled her nose. "Not real!" The woman shrieked, hands shaking vigorously outward to fling the blood off of her.
Mud was mud once more. Nivi's body shook like a leaf struggling to stay attached to its tree in late autumn; this was the third incident in the last month. Swallowing hard she turned from the marred, ghostly remains of her tribe and began a slow, listless walk toward a familiar shrine. Rest. She just needed rest, that's all. The shrine would provide her protection while she lay her head down for a little while, she had already gathered edible mushrooms and a few shiny rocks to give as an offering. The shrine would give her reprieve... she hoped.
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