Well, it wasn’t just a normal turkey. That poor, foolish boy, in his stubbornness, ventured far from the town, farther than he had initially meant to, in that frigid night of winter. That was where it lured him. One of those terrifying shape shifting sorcerers, revealed herself to him, beckoning the child close with sweet lullabies, telling him how proud his parents would be once he brought back some tasty game.

She saw his ambitions, his desires. All she had to do was prey on them and when he was close enough, when he wasn’t anticipating her attack, she'd swoop in and steal his tonalli, leaving nothing behind. Not even his bones.

That was probably the plan, but the sorceress never got that close though.

The boy ran off as soon as she revealed herself, moving so quickly that the only thing she was able to take was his capes. But she wasn’t satisfied with mere rags, even if they carried some tonalli, it was not enough for her spell. Nothing was ever enough. Right before the boy would find the bright paper banners that led to the fields, the sorceress finally caught up and went to snatch the boy. Then…

There was this voice.

Just before she would take him. A pain that shot through both their legs and forced them onto their knees no matter how much they struggled. The ground trembled, the nearby trees seemed to bend and crack in the wind. And although his face was buried in the freezing snow, unable to move, stuck kneeling to whatever will held him, the child was convinced that it must have been a giant, like the ones his own grandparents had told him. From the legends and there to protect him because when he was finally able to feel his limbs once again, the sorceress was gone.

That 10 year old boy was my fellow hunter’s great grandfather, now deceased, but revered a hero for helping ward off the wretched sorceress that attacked the village that winter. And for finding the lost hunters that went missing earlier in the morning. What was left of them at least. Trinkets, tilmatli, weapons and other belongings scattered along the path that would otherwise never have been found had he not traveled out when he did

I often found myself wondering if his great grandfather felt proud of his grand accomplishment and if the weight of it on his shoulder felt too heavy. Knowing what he knew now, would he have done it anyway? Or would he have been content with living an uneventful, albeit a tad more comfortable life of a farmer and not put himself through the nightmare he had experienced? Was that price worth the future happiness of those around him? 

A warm and calloused hand reached out to pat my head, messily pushing and tousling the strands, plastered to my skin. I had been so stuck in my head that I had forgotten I wasn’t alone today. Hyats’i was close, now standing behind me. Somehow, he managed to sneak right up on me again, eyes crinkled fondly when I finally turned to look up at him.

“So still. It’s unlike you.” He remarked, leaning in to blow onto one of my damp locks of hair, pushing it to the side so it wouldn't hang in front of my eyes and irritate them. I ignored the warm feeling his fingertips against my scalp elicited and forced myself to calm down, lowering the weapon in my hand from its raised position above my shoulder.

It’s bullshit, is what it is. There are no sorcerers and the village believes every rumor that comes floating out of someone's mouth. That story is bullshit and I should focus on doing what I want to do, what I enjoy rather than worrying myself over pointless things.

Hyats’i’s stupid face appeared in front of me now, crouching down to meet my eyes at my level with his thumb pressed gently to the top of my nose, sliding it across and off the tip as he began to stand back up to his full height. His gaze lingers, a mischievous gleam hidden in his eyes as I stared back and wiped the rest of the smeared sweat off, glowering at the idiot. He simply fooled around with his axe, twirling it around and between his fingers absentmindedly while he gazed into the distance with this air of aloofness. 

Hold on. Was he done already? 

I glanced around and my eyes set upon a stack of firewood, stacked and arranged so perfectly behind Hyats’i, who had tied the stack together with thick rope to make carrying them back to the village easy.

“What’s with that look?” My friend asked with an amused look, tilting his head to the side. "Think I can't do my job properly, huh? Want me to show you what an axe expert is capable of?"

Expert? More like a clumsy fool. And who gave this idiot access to sharp, pointy tools? Despite being well built, he was a fisherman through and through. This sort of hard labor was unbefitting of him and his talent. I can only imagine all the complaints he’d give me later about being sore or the cracks or creaking in his bones if he were to do this regularly. How difficult it would be for him to lug all of these logs and so on.

“Pack your bundle up. I’ll only be a moment.” I decided, shifting my grip on my blade and slashing away once again, peeling with preciseness and practiced ease. The blue sky and bright, warm sunlight comforted me. A gentle wind blew past us and I couldn't help but stop, closing my eyes and allowing myself a moment to relish in the sensation. This is where I belonged, in the trees. Deep, deep inside, I felt that this was home, that I belonged here. Peaceful. So serene and quiet.

Well, that was until Hyats'i 's sudden snickering, his shoulders bouncing with mirth. Never a quiet moment with this guy. Ever.

"What is it now?" I rolled my eyes, yet that's not to say I was not enjoying it in some twisted, childish way.

"Nothing, I just realized you'll never be free. Not with those tattoos." He laughed, his smile wide and his eyes shining. "You're stuck. Stuck in this village for the rest of your life."

"Is that it? Don't you ever get tired of all the stupid crap that spews out your mouth? Honestly." I muttered in annoyance, slicing at the tree with more force now. "Leave. I'll handle the rest, you giant sack of dried reeds."

"But, I enjoy being here with you! Come on! You should cherish this, our bit of quality time together! Even if you are planning to stay!” The guy bellowed, throwing his arms up in exasperation, that playful twinkle that never faded from his eyes returning as he wiped away at fake tears.

"Idiot." I spat, picking up the bundle of stripped bark and stuffing the pieces away neatly into my large basket. I shrugged off my tilmatli, which was by now covered in sweat, grime, dirt, ants and many more things, and placed them, along with the basket, to the side for the moment. But I changed my mind. Last minute, I chucked the cape at Hyats’i's face, smiling smugly when I heard a soft 'oof'.

"My mother's making emolli and I'd like to make it back before nightfall today." I said, flexing and moving my arms, twisting my body one way and another to stretch out my muscles. Afterall, we had quite a walk back to the village, with more bags than normal and we're returning late. "So no detours!"

Knowing him, he had probably anticipated a nice long hike, cutting away at the surrounding trees or scrounging up various materials

Hyats'i’s shoulders slumped and his cheeks puffed out, huffing lightly before resting his arms on top of his bronze axe.

"Doing this made me thirsty."

"You should have packed water."

"Didn't know you were gonna have me work until sundown!" Hyats'i exasperatedly. "This was supposed to be a casual bonding session!"

I couldn't stop the scoff that left my lips.

"What? You invited yourself! I was just harvesting bark! And it's barely noon!"

"You need a chaperone to avoid running off." He teased, ignoring my jab and responding instead to the bigger matter.

We both fell into a comfortable silence. Only the sound of wood hacking and the birds chirping filled the air. Was it so wrong to stay here in the village?

We stayed in the woods for some time, working together and chattering like we always do. I would have probably finished earlier had Hyats'i not offered to help out and then stop every couple moments for a water break. I swear, it's like he'd never worked a hard day in his life, complaining as he huffed and puffed after me as I darted back and forth between trees, leaping over logs and hastily pulling at the long strips of bark. Though, I suppose the skills he'd use to fish are much different than this, so it was obvious he wasn't cut out for something so rough and strenuous.

"Obviously, if she wasn't you wouldn't be going back for more every chance you get." I mumbled, my eyes trained on the ground, observing how the sunlight shifted to accent the smooth yellow gravel of the trail as we continued on. He leaned in, wrapping his arms around my shoulders like he'd done a few times before. My knees instantly turned to jelly at the weight and warmth his arms brought and the closeness of his skin touching mine. He doesn't say anything as he lifts me up off the ground and swings my body left and right. I gripped on tightly onto his arms, tight and rigid as my mind came to the decision of not even bothering to try and pry him off. The older boy's face remained hidden the entire time. I just knew he was giving me a shit-eating grin, I just knew.

"I just might ask for her hand! I'll be your new father, what do you say, little green stone?"

"You idiot. You're not her type." I laughed softly, adjusting the position of my reed basket. My steps started growing more relaxed as I pushed aside a patch of grass to the left, holding the brush aside, to let Hyats'i through first, still being dragged by the wrist as the young man lumbered forward.

"Because I am yours, right?"

I froze in place. What did this big oaf just say? What could that even possibly mean? What was he insinuating? Hyats'i himself, had the expression of a man that looked like he hadn't meant to say that and was shocked he said something without even noticing. The color on both our faces would suggest I was perhaps overreacting. I suppose I shouldn't make assumptions after all. But was I overreacting?

As if it was even possible to get a coherent thought out of such an open-ended question? We passed through some older trees, the ground beneath our feet scattered with loose gravel and large tree roots, making our trek slow and troublesome as Hyats'i attempted (and failed) to find even footing on the unsteady surface. The poor boy stumbled about, carrying everything on him to the point where he was bent over and awkwardly stooped. I suppose the fisherman's son wasn't built for much other than hauling around nets or baskets. He glanced at me, as though wanting to complain about the whole thing, his dark eyes shining from his pink flushed face. A look I'd been seeing ever since I knew him. It seemed to say, hey, don't you feel sorry for me now?

Well, that won't work on me, not if I turn away and focus my attention elsewhere. Or if I refuse to look him in the eye, so I kept my own gaze wandering and searching for anything else. But every now and again I'd fold and finally glance over at the poor guy, just to see that childish pout of his. You could only imagine how freaked out I was to see him already glancing my way, waiting patiently.

The birds chitter and chatter somewhere behind us, singing happily on some treetops and enjoying the heat of the afternoon sun. Every now and again we passed a farmer, each one trudging heavily through the narrow forest pathways, weighed down with all manner of goods, including bushels of vegetables, baskets piled high with produce and even heavy clay pots. Their expressions are as strained and haggard as their workload. We stepped off the beaten path in order to let these villagers pass. 

"Thämfri." We'd tell them respectfully. Then, when they were gone, I'd wipe at my face and smooth away some stray hairs that got caught on my skin, as if trying to wipe away a lingering itch. I lazily stretch my limbs as far as I could without dropping the supplies. There was a painful tightness in my arms and shoulders. And as my hand rubbed my aching neck and scratched at my stiff arms, I realized how stiff and tired I really was.

My poor friend continued to struggle with his descent through the slopes and hillsides, huffing and wheezing his way from behind me. A pained groan escapes his lips. I snorted, pulling back and falling in step with him once more, our shoulders nearly knocking. Even that close contact was enough for the big oaf to take a wrong step, losing his balance on the rocks and slipping backwards, nearly dropping all of his weight upon me. I just barely held him up before he went toppling over and falling flat on his ass.

"Graceful. Very graceful." I dryly said, helping him onto his feet.

"Shut up." He grunted, leaning a majority of his weight against me as he righted himself, legs wobbling. "I can walk myself."

 And he proceeded to show me just that, carefully taking cautious steps back in order to make room. It didn't take long for me to realize how pathetic he looked, wobbling like that. It took a great deal more strength not to burst out laughing and Hyats'i quickly threw me a dirty look.

"Just let me help you or we'll be walking late at night at this rate."

The idiot gave a pout, his lower lip jutted out slightly but said nothing else, not even muttering a word. He seemed to almost sulk as he handed me his basket of wood. Once his load was alleviated he stretched his back with a loud yawn and walked with a more relaxed, jaunty attitude, unphased by the rocky ground below or the mud caking his feet and calves.

”You know,” He began, carefully making his way down. “When you make your decision I’ll still be here. I'll follow wherever you go. Well, not wherever, wherever. I'm not sure if my family will let me." 

He scratched his face in a manner that's anything but charming and awkwardly glanced away.

"You get the idea, right?" He urged, his gaze settling upon my own once more, silently seeking validation or agreement. I understood but I stayed silent and simply let him blabber, lost in my own thoughts and ideas as they filtered in, the new knowledge taking root in my mind and burning bright. 

What a fool this one was. What an utter simpleton. I pressed the heel of my palm into my forehead to somehow get a sense of calm. To figure something, anything out.

Ah. The sound of the stream.