Interlude

By Sorchafyre

If it is not cool here in the woods, it is at least cooler, out of the sun. The fur that keeps me warm in the cold snow seems to weigh heavier on my skin when the air is thick like this.

The reeds are easier to work with, though. It is something I have done since childhood; I am the best of all the ones in the circle today. I am the best of anyone in the circle any day, but I dare not think that too loudly. The grasses slip easily through my fingers to bind the pipes together, but I am not strong, not like some, and only the strong can defend their pride. Today though-- today is good, even if the breath feels thick inside me.

The stone rasps against the end of the reed, smoothing the longest one, almost done, almost like the music of the pipes themselves and I wonder what they would sound like together. Eldest whistles, I look up. She gestures sharply, it is time to go into the cave's shelter, let the rest of the world stay awake, we are smart to sleep when the air is like standing beside a fire. In the evening, when the air is sweet like clear water, we will wake and gather. Maybe there will be a story, maybe someone will use these very pipes for the first time tonight.

Eldest whistles again, sharply. Chastised, I stand and follow her back, into the cool, dark caves.

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