Sometime later, I heard someone whisper, "Siena, are you awake?"

Nirrin again. I ignored her, too busy mucking about in self-pity. When her steps faded out, I sighed. What was I going to do with myself now? Live with these strangers? What choice did I have? I couldn't go back, and I had nearly died traipsing around the forest by myself.

I would just have to wait and see.

When I finally mustered up the courage to face the outside world, I got out of bed and stood up. Pain lanced up from my tender feet when I put weight on them. They were full of cuts from stepping on sharp forest things. Hoping they wouldn't notice the bottoms of my feet, I decided it was worth the risk healing them. It was better than drawing attention to myself by hobbling around like an invalid.

I checked the doorway, then massaged my feet with warm, healing hands. I exhaled with relief as the stinging cuts stitched back together. Much better. Grabbing the last corn cake from the tray, I took a bite and peeked out from behind the heavy cloth partition. Surprisingly, no one was in sight.

I stepped out and looked around. The room I occupied was one of several small cabins scattered among the trees, each one a little different. One was even built around a tree so that its branches poked out the top. Moss clung to the sides of the cabins, making them look like natural extensions of the forest. There didn't seem to be any pattern to where cabins were built, so it was difficult to see just how big this community of Forestfolk might be.

Forestfolk—who were these people? As I wandered, I saw racks for tanning hides, various fire pits, and an enormous round metal pot. I'd never seen a pot that big before. I began to wonder where everyone had gone when I finally heard voices. I followed them and soon saw a clearing, where numerous people sat on stumps arranged in a circle, taking turns talking and listening. A few people mentioned my name, so I stayed hidden, creeping to a nearby tree and pressing against it.

It looked like a lot of people. Even children listened. Were they all talking about me?

"What if they come for her?" one man said. "What will we do then? We're not warriors."

"She's just a silly young girl who ran away. They won't send an army just to reclaim that," another man said.

I recoiled at being called "that."

"When have we ever turned away a newcomer?" That was Bren's voice. "Are we not all from someplace else?"

Mumbling and grumbling circulated around the clearing, some agreeing and some doubtful. I hated that my fate was being determined without me even being present. Then again, wasn't that the story of my life?

An unfamiliar sense of determination crept through me. My spine straightened as a small measure of resolve filled the void I'd been carrying with me most of my life. Maybe it was time for me to finally have a say in it. Take the lead in my own story.

I pushed my shoulders back, lifted my chin a little, and entered the clearing with as much dignity as my small frame could command. An immediate hush accentuated the crunch under my feet as I walked. Dozens of eyes stared at me as I approached. Curiosity, sympathy, trepidation, I felt all of it rolling off them as I passed.

I fought the urge to run back to the cabin, and marched to the center of the circle. This went against everything I had ever done. Or not done. I never spoke up, never defended myself, never garnered attention. The tremor in my hands burgeoned into a shudder that I tamped by pressing them against my thighs.

When I reached the center, I paused and looked around at the sea of faces. My insides quaked so hard I thought I might throw up. Maybe this was a dumb idea.

I looked at one pair of eyes, and another. An ocean of eyes watching me, and I saw no hostility. Mistrust, sure, but even those people were waiting for me to speak, willing to listen to my story.

The shaking lessened a bit.

If they were able to withhold judgment, maybe I could find the courage to do this.

I gulped, reached deep for a little tenacity, and began speaking. "My name is Siena."

My voice sounded weak to my ears, so I cleared my throat and tried more volume. "I grew up in the Zurbo tribe, but I am not one of them. I am their captive. Was their captive. I am a nobody. They went to raid another tribe, and the compound was in turn attacked while they were away. Pillaged. Women and children murdered." My voice broke. I had to pause to steel myself against the memory. I didn't want to cry in front of them.

I took a deep breath, telling myself not to get too emotional. "I narrowly escaped with my life. Before today, I didn't even know you existed. If you would allow me to co-exist with you, I would be grateful. If you think I am a danger, then I will move on. Whichever you decide, you have my thanks for your hospitality during my recovery."

With that, I deflated and left the circle. The murmur of voices rose to my ears as I fled. I heard someone say the word "property" and I shook my head. I had better come up with some kind of survival plan in case they rejected me.

I went back to the cabin and drank some more water. Better to be prepared in case I had to leave tonight. Along the way back, I had stolen a bowl of berries and one of the larger hides from the rack. I would need these more desperately than they, and that was how I justified it.

I packed up my roll, including the blanket from the bed, and now it was quite heavy. I would need to fashion some straps for easier carrying. Now, I just had to wait.

***

When they entered the cabin, they found me sitting on the edge of the bed, packed-up roll in my lap. Bren came in first, followed by a tall, well-built man with a short, dark beard. After him was a boy about my age, and Nirrin, who I'm pretty sure weaseled her way in against their wishes.

Bren smiled warmly, and my hope soared.

The tall man spoke first, clasping his hands together, as if performing in an official capacity. "My name is Galen, and on behalf of the Forestfolk, we welcome you to our community."

I looked from him to Bren, and then did something I don't think I've done since I was nine.

I grinned.