The ground was hard as stone beneath the small set of softleather boots. Her short, simple brown cloak was pulled tight about self. For what seemed ages, s'jira stood in the main area of entering that belonged to the large cemetery for RhyDin.

Two that she knew very well were buried there:  The Barbarian and Fisherwoman Thale.

Snow crunched just a little beneath her light footing when she gathered up her courage warmly about self like the cloak and made her way amongst the graves.

Some were grandly marked and others were nothing more than a stick to be a guide that someone or something had that place there. Winter's winds rushed in and tugged at the cloth of her dress. She caught them to keep them in place as she slowed to a stop and visited the simple grave of Thale Dragoncrest.

S'jira had not known the elder woman's last name until the gods had taken her from that world in so permanent a way that she knew eyes would never see her again and ears would never hear the woman's pushy way of talking.

Fingerstips curled about a limb that had fallen from the bigger branch of a tree that would protect her resting place when warmer months came and leaves were plentiful.

After Thale, she moved on to visit with Master Kiroth.  Leaves and twigs had been removed from his weeks before and placed neatly on the ground behind the stone that marked his place. The little branch from Thale's grave was added to the pile, along with leaves and other debris small hands were removing from atop and around his grave.

Winter's touch was too bitter to linger for long. S'jira gave a gentled smile to the stone slab that covered the earth that held his bones. She knew that he hunted with his ancestors and had been doing that for several of RhyDin's years.

No words were uttered, no song left her lips. Perhaps on a day more favorable to staying outside without fear of illness. A glance spent between the graves before 'jira hurried off to find brazier or hearth to warm her hands then the rest of self.

The small one had been seen in the city of RhyDin for weeks. She had been within the world and realms for months but had kept herself to the home she had in the woods to the north, beyond the walls of the great city.

It had taken her a very long time to heal and gather the courage to return. Small feet carried her and a heart and soul of a warmly burning fire were once again with her. For the first time in a very long time... she made her way back into the most familiar Red Dragon Inn.

She was, perhaps, amongst the few that loved strong and so deeply that it pained them for years. It took that long just to find her footing and balance again. The cleaning and mending of the inn was returned to, as well as helping the men and women on the docks with the fish.

Purpose and keeping busy has always made her heart lighter. It was no different now.

?Yes, for hurting muscles.? The small one labored much on the docks to help out and many had no knowledge of it. ?Seeds for kura and istren?? S?jira murmured out the thoughts about the healing plants. Only a couple out of so many that could be used there.

Se?vesra stopped chewed. She knew what the plants were for. She then dug about in the pouch, one of many, that hung from her belt and put a small vial on the table. It was made of stone and corked well. ?kura..? And motioned for her to continue. She surely needed many things that could not be found in RhyDin atall.

Cheeks deepened their already tinted hue, growing very warm to see the vial. They both were well-versed in what it was. She mentioned nothing of it and pushed on as best she could. ?Will you carry letters to Sha??

She grinned at s?jira. ?Years..?

S?jira knew and gave to her a nod. ?It is known. Many, many years.? They both knew the woman still lived and that their Sha (mother) lived yet. But her own story had taken her away to one of the islands off of the main continent and they had not heard from her at all.

?Your words will be carried to her, s?jira.? Promised as if it were a sworn oath. ?That is all you want of me??

She left her plate and drink behind to gain her delicate height. Lithe arms wrapped about her sister?s shoulders and hugged her tightly, though she lacked the obvious strength Se?vrasi had. ?Please forgive. Paths have unraveled and woven into knew patterns. There is hope you have an understanding of it  in all of this.. ?

A callused hand wrapped in cloth and leather patted s?jira?s arm. ?There is understanding, little sister. On some things. I would have liked to have seen you bonded to someone strong and met my blade with his to know it well for you.?

She brought a kiss against her sister?s temple, hugged her again and loosed self from her. ?There is more meat to be had?? Laughing gently as she shook her head just a little at her sister?s one-path sort of thinking.

?I will leave soon. Think on it more so I know what to bring on my return to this ? place.? Se?vrasi?s nose wrinkled along the bridge of it as if she has smelled something foul. She made a show of shrugging off the woman?s affections, even though she truly did not mind them. Then waved her back to her own meal.

S?jira was upon her knees to pelts hearthside. It was as comfortable as sitting in a chair for anyone else. She gave into a single rocking back to gain her small, bare feet and stand to that delicate height of hers. ?Purpose is important as well.? She dared to meet fingerstips with her sister?s arm where numerous scars were. Her sister did not hide them but bared them proudly.

?Mending, scaling and barreling fish, aiding with cleaning rooms and helping in so many other ways are purpose here, sister.? Words failed her for a breath?s time or more, then she continued as she slipped away to see to the cooking food. ?Kiroth is dead. Panther is gone ?to where a heart does not know and he is feared long-dead after so long a time. You know well that words in kind have been spoken of the Ranger, the Smith?.and Peredhil. And you know that what these words say is truth ? always. So your ears and heart should know that this last visit to Llothgar has?has perhaps stolen away any last chance at a heart healing from the loss of Panther and the company of Peredhil.?  S?jira knew that she had lost a few to her heart by her own doing. Frightened, not within the current realms, and other happenings that had been beyond her control? it was still all her doing. The small woman took the blame and seriously so into her very heart.

Hands met s?jira?s shoulders briefly. Blood-sisters were precious and even Se?vrasi was not as cold or such full of hate as she would have the smaller woman belief. ?The horse is a strong one.? As close to a compliment as she would ever give.

There was a small and growing smile to hear that. ?It is thought so too. Thanks is given..? Trygg was a strong and beautiful black horse. He had carried her and supplies for them often. ?And can run as if like the wind!? S?jira laughed aloud. Even she knew he was not that fast, but it felt to her that he might fly at times with the way he ran unrefined.

?Pel..? Se?vrasi chuckled at her and hugged her tightly and briefly. There was no question that the woman loved her sister, she simply had very different ways of usually showing it. ?Get him a mate. Younglings from that animal will be worth many pelts and much food.? It was more than logical and worth for a Llothgar was often in the livestock they owned. She wanted to see her sister better standing than she was and had been.

S?jira blinked and smiled at her.  ?That has not been thought of. Yes?? Agreeing with her to breed Trygg with another to sire other strong and beautiful horses such as he was. The hugging from Se?vrasi had eased her heart in the wake of much of her sister?s anger. She could not go home again without risking harm and would not go back to risk pain of being an embarrassment to her sister and others there. The small one knew better.

Gaze spent from the swarthy-fleshed sister of hers to the humble dwelling of her home. It was hers and she would enjoy the area and land it stood on. The water streaming not far, the trees, the meadow, and all of its animals kind to fierce.

?And why do you wear your hair like this?? It was clear to s?jira that her sister had been wanting to ask that question for months! She started to laugh and laughed some more, a warm and heart-felt thing.

Despite the cutting of the words, she knew that her sister meant well by them. She only wanted to see s'jira better and stronger. Alone and barely practicing the ways of any of the Llothgarians made Se'vrasi's stomach knot and twist. She hated it.

It took some time for the long grain rice to cook. In that time, she pulled some meat from the heavily fatted and salted down barrel that had preserved it well. Some might not have cared for it, but she knew that Se'vrasi would. Or, at least, she hoped that her sister would. It tasted similar to lor meat. A heart hoped that it only reminding her of lor and not truly being it would not upset her.

S'jira put the meat into a pan and started to wipe the grease and fat from her hands and fingerstips. "You did not say in travels if your heart is tethered to another, sister."

She saw Se'vrasi's gaze leave her and turn to look at the simple hearth of stone and wood. "There was one. He found that more lands and horses could be his to bond to another."

That her sister had allowed anyone atall near enough to her to allow the knowings of her heart surprised the small woman. Carrying the cloth with her, still in hand she knelt to the flooring nearby and watched her and waited for the food to cook.  "Did he bring fire or stone, sister?"

"To my heart?" She looked down to where s'jira was sitting on the flooring not far away. Her shoulder lifted and fell with a shrug. "Fire for two years. Stone fell after that."

"There is sorrow to hear this, Se'vrasi. Truly."

Another wave of her hand was a s'jira. "We won't talk of it and I won't tell you to bind yourself to another and have children."  But she paused before continuing. "Why did you accept your freedom at the hand of one of these Riduens?"

"There is -- was a great love for him, sister. He brought to this heart love, safety and happiness."

Se'vrasi eyed her a long time. "You should not have allowed it." The woman's face and gaze turned away from her. She was not bitter. In fact, by her tone, she really wanted better for s'jira. "I return to Llothgar in two day's time. Will you return with me?"

S'jira already knew her answer. "It is thought better not to, sister." Hatred or despised, a heart did not like the thought of her own peoples rejecting her for slipping away too much from Llothgarian ways and traditions.

When the saddles were put away and the horses given feed she brushed them down until twigs and else were out of their mane and tails and their coats shown. Her heart hurt that her sister saw her in the way the others had, but it was to be expected. She was one of the lost, not fitting truly with the Llothgarians. Any of them. A breath was pulled into her lungs and released in the form of a sigh. It was truth and to be expected, but a heart and soul still ached over it.

She hastened her pace to show self in the old woodcutter's cottage. She saw that Se'vrasi had took it upon herself to light oil lamps, candles, and the hearth as well as to throw open the window of the room that served as both a gathering room and a kitchen.

It seemed that by the time 'jira had made it into her little home, Se'vrasi's mood had softened a small measure. She did not spew any more insults at her little sister from where she sprawled in the thick, wood chair that was covered in animal pelts.

"What have you learned, s'jira? What comes from your visit to what was your home and is not only mine our Sha's (mother's)?

She pulled her hair back and tied it off with a strip of leather. S'jira did not answer her immediately. If the food was not started with cooking soon, there would be more than sharp words from Se'vrasi. The warrior wore more than a few blades on her person, some visible and others not.

She was to her people one of the Hei?Kor. The Hei?Kor were without a clan. They were claimed to senseless, without order, without a tent or home -- lost. Even amongst the savages of Llothgar, there were rules, order, and a steep expectation for tradition and ways to be followed.

S'jira was Hei?Kor. She was lost.

A year's time had passed without word to anyone in RhyDin. The night she had left was one when Se'vrasi -- s'jira's sister -- made herself known in the Riduen (RhyDin).

The small one knew that time in RhyDin and Llothgar passed differently from one another. She and Panther had found that out together. She had found that out once before. But for the s'jira (little flower), it was only the third time and she had never intended to stay in Llothgar the night her sister came for her.

It was almost a full year gone from the lands of RhyDin. S'jira struggled to forget them. But in the mix of them were wonderful days of food, dance, ne'habrok (after-hunt), gathering of supplies, exploring, and more. But the trials faced when visiting the Hel'Murein, the Northern Tribes in Llothgar, would leave her as skittish around any warrior for the rest of her days.

Llothgar was her hoomeland and Se'vrasi (fire flower) was her blood-sister, but s'jira found that she was a stranger amongst all of them. She had tried, but failed, not to seem such a foreigner. But she had been too long in RhyDin and has many of their ways about her.