Natasha~

The air was warm before the sun rose from its slumber that morning, gently kissing my bare shoulders as I rose for my morning chores. Birds sang as I dressed for the day ahead, and the summer’s breeze blew through the many leaves we had on our property as I ran my brush through my long-waved hair.

Our home bobbed with each step it took, taking us to a new ground to forage for materials for Auntie’s spells that keep us safe and hidden from the outside. I grabbed my basket as I left my small bedroom, taking each stride as softly as I could so as not to wake Auntie if she was still slumbering.

I slowly opened the front door and gently closed it behind me before rushing off to the coop to grab the egg. Large and heavy as always. The fresh herbs we used for breakfast grew at the doors of the coop, parsley and chives being Auntie’s favorite. I grabbed a sprig of each and a handful of the wild mushrooms that poked out of the soft green grass that Auntie had just cut the night before.

The early morning bloomed with golden oranges and mixed purples spreading across the sky, coating the clouds in rich hues upon their fluffy white cotton. Tall trees passed by the railing circling the property with each heavy step that the hut took. Birds sang from branches to others flying about us, their feathers glistening in the early rays.

“Natasha!” Auntie called from the window, her shrill voice scaring off every nearby bird song, “Are you still asleep? What is taking you so long with that egg?”

“I’m sorry, Auntie, it’s just a beautiful day out here today,” I replied, holding my woven basket closer as I made the short journey through the door. “Will you be outside with me this afternoon?”

I didn’t remember a time before Auntie Baba. Just a few flashes of faces I couldn’t place. As far as I was aware, I’ve always been with Auntie in her bird hut, travelling the country.

“You know I won’t be anywhere near that wretched sun, dear niece.” She returned to her cauldron to continue her latest project as I fixed up our usual breakfast of a large omelet stuffed with whatever we managed to grow on the back of the hen.

Auntie Baba was a creature of the night, she claimed, because of her old eyes. I had never seen her outside the hut under anything but a full moon. Even that was only when she went to collect the water she used in many of her spells.

During the day, it was my job to tend to the property. Which was something I took pride in doing, I was allowed to grow whatever I wanted, so long as it could be used by her or eaten by both of us. I fixed up the fence, the outside of the house, built the birdhouses that invited in the little meat we could eat, tended to my garden, and fed the hut.

It was a lot to do during the day, but it was better than tending to Auntie’s chores.

She spent most of every day standing at the face of her cauldron, working on her spells and potions, muttering words of magick that still made no sense to me throughout the years of her attempting to teach me the inner workings of her trade.

I served up the omelets, placing them in their indents on the table so they didn’t move around as the hut walked.

“Auntie,” I began to make conversation as she pried herself away from her work again to eat, “Do you know where we’re heading this time?”

She shook her head with familiar annoyance, “I never do. Why do you ask this time?”

“I would like to go into a town and get cheese again, it has been a while since we have had any.” I wanted to see the outside. I loved the last time I was able to see a town. I loved how busy it was, how many people were all talking to each other. Auntie was great for company, but she was busy a lot of the time, and I rarely got to talk to anyone outside of her.

“Cheese is good, so is business.” She replied in between mouthfuls, “It would be helpful to be near a town this time, for money and supplies.”

I nodded; she wouldn’t admit it, but I thought she shared my sentiment. It was lonely in the hut with just the two of us every day.

“But every stay is so much shorter near towns. They always hunt us down with their fire and pitchforks.” She grumbled.

“They don’t understand, if you just explained to them as you have to me.”

“You were a babe when we met, Natasha. You have grown up around my work,” She cut me off sharply.

I looked down with a sigh, knowing it was not an argument that I would win. She had decades of running from mankind before I was born, and it had only gotten worse now that she had me to protect.

“You may be able to bring in the business that we need.” She thought to herself aloud as she finished the meal, “Beauty does sell better than age.”

“You are not ugly because you have aged, Auntie.”

“No, I am not. I was never beautiful; you, however, have blossomed into a fine woman.” She pointed a long, bony finger at me with a sly smile on her face that she only got when she got a grand idea. “You will sell or trade some potions for me whenever we get to the next town. Then we will be able to get however much cheese you desire.”

I nodded, attempting to contain my excitement, “I’ll do my best, Auntie. I’ll get the best cheese wheel we can buy.”

“And milk, it is about time we had a real omelet.”

“We will need a proper ice box for that, Auntie.”

“Build the box when you find time. I will handle the ice.”

I rose from my seat with a smile growing across my face that I hadn’t had in a long time and rushed back outside. I grabbed my watering can from the small shed that held all of my supplies that I used in the yard, and got to work watering all of the plants and pruning with small shears that were beginning to rust away with time.

Hope filled my chest as I began the shoddy box that I tried my best to make as air-tight as I possibly could to keep the cold in. I hoped that it would be good enough, but also knew that we would be keeping it outside in the shade during a Russian summer and using magic for the ice.

Sitting the poor craft up onto its feet, I took a good look at every gap in the wood, wondering if mud would be enough to seal them. It was a shame we didn’t have any to spare on the hen.

Travel could take weeks at times; it just depended on where the hen wanted to settle down. I thought, in the beginning, that Auntie drove our home around from place to place for whatever reason she decided, but I know that’s absurd now.

As the sun began to set, I stood at the railing to watch the scenery drift by. Towers in the distance that were likely attached to towns that I’d never get to see up close, mountains we’d likely go around, and a forest stretching out as far as my eyes could see.

Snow still capped the mountain tops, leaving white veins between the trees, leading up to the covered peaks. Smoke from campfires rose in thick ropes that quickly dispersed as they escaped the tree line. It was a peaceful route, at least, with beautiful views of the country we didn’t always get to see.

I remember the scenes from the spent battlefields we passed from a war the humans fought when I was a child. The bloodied bodies coated the ground in specks I couldn’t quite make out in detail from our position. Sometimes the field still smoldered from the fight, and sometimes people were still fighting to the death as we passed.

These scenes were so much better to see. Just the green of the trees and the blue-greys of the sky, speckled with nature and proof of life in the distance. No more bloodied bodies.

“Why would they do that?” I mumbled as the sun slowly set, the sky bleeding into reds that mimicked the red that used to coat the dirt below. What would bring anyone to harm someone else like that? What were they fighting for?

I wished I could go find out. Just ask, “Why? What was it for?” I could see so much from our perch, but so little of it made any sense. They had celebrations and festivals that could be heard for kilometers, music that echoed through the trees and bounced off the mountains. They also had things that exploded and destroyed things that they built, killed people, and left craters behind them.

Humans are odd creatures with a duality that I had never understood. But I desperately wanted to. I used to be one of them, according to Auntie. I was a small, disgusting thing that needed everything to be done for me until she beat it out of me. It took years to get me to where I am.

Would I be just as bipolar if she hadn’t? Would anything have ended differently if I hadn’t received the scars?

“Wondering is useless; it is time for dinner.” I chided myself, pushing off the railing and going back for my basket to gather my ingredients.

The meal was quick and simple, another one I had done a million times before. Once we made it to a town, we could add some variety; until then, we did not have the cheese for most recipes worth making.

“Have you built the box?” Auntie Baba asked as she sat down for her stew.

I nodded, “I have, just need some thick mud to seal the gaps now.”

“Good niece,”