SURWOOD | EARLY MORNING
Sarinah sat before the low burning campfire of the Red Crow encampment, staring into the flames as the smells and sounds of morning drifted to her ears. Children already up with the dawn, eager to start the day and play with their friends. Friendly faces offering breakfast to people walking by. Even the softer sound of people stirring, coughs and murmurs, sizzling of cooking food and smells of tea. It all seemed so...strange.
So at peace.
The brunette couldn’t sleep, not properly. Her father’s bitter words and violent actions had swum around in her mind over and over during the weeks since their confrontation, biting at her thoughts and burning in her ears. Ultimately she had woken earlier than the sunrise, rolling to watch the passive as he slept, admiring the gentle rise and fall of his chest with a soft smile. Slipping carefully from sheets and leaving the kint she and Tristaan had shared, the witch seated herself by the fire with her arms on her bent knees and mahogany gaze a million miles away.
Tribe is everything.
Closing her eyes, the dancer moved to rest her forehead against her arms, fighting the hurt anger that simmered within. Part of her wanted to just continue on as though they’d never spoken to her parents, to live an illusion of what could have been. The other part wanted to find the stubborn older Lissden, to throw him to the mercy of wick judgement. He'd been run out of Surwood after their unpleasant encounter, and that had been that. She'd not attempted to find him, and kept their final reunion to herself.
“...no wait! Stars, I...” The sound of a desperate voice wafted above the morning noises, that of a young man pleading with a clearly out of sorts young woman. Sarinah lifted her head and turned towards the voices, watching as a bright pink haired young woman stomped her way through the waking wicks, a hastily packed suitcase in one hand. Trailing behind her was a tall man with sandy blonde hair and a deep golden tan. He wore nothing more than a bedsheet wrapped around his athletically muscled torso, and was struggling to keep even that on.
“I’m sorry alright?! Clarabelle was just playi—“ The pink haired woman spun on her heel suddenly and poked an angry finger into his bare chest.
“Taegan Jack, that beast tried to kill me!” The blonde man scoffed, dragging a hand through his hair as her voice jumped an octave.
“She’s not a beast Stars, just a big kitten. She’d never really hurt yo—“ Stars threw her hand up in the air, making a sound of disgust.
“You treat that chrove better than anyone! She can do nothing wrong in your eyes. I’d say you love her more than anyone too, but I don’t think you could love anything more than yourself.” Taegan pouted, clearly offended by the remark, but held his tongue as Stars continued to rant. From the direction they’d come from, an older man approached, short and rather round with a bald head and thick handle bar moustache.
“Wait! Stars wait! You can’t leave! What about the show?!” The pink haired woman looked around the blonde to stare at the older man with a laugh.
“The show?! Balder, there is no show. You’ve got a tent and a chrove, two immature boys and an old washed up clown. That’s not a show, that’s a sorry excuse for a street act at best. I’m going back to Vienda. I should have never left. Taegan, choose now. It’s either Clarabelle, or me.” She huffed, pushing a bright lock out of her eyes. The young blonde stared at her, before looking at Balder with a shake of his head.
“I’ll see you back at the tent then.” He said without hesitation, turning and stomping away, leaving Stars with a look of shocked anger on her face. She glared at Balder, who ran a hand over his head and down his mustache before sighing.
“We need you Stars. I need you. It’s not a circus without an acrobat.” The woman sniffed and tossed her hair behind her with a sneer.
“It’s not a circus then.” She said, before turning and continuing her dramatic departure. Balder swore, kicking the dirt and stomping one booted foot, before turning to follow in the path he’d come from. Sarinah allowed her gaze to follow where he was headed, towards a larger than usual blue and gold stripped tent. Before its entrance were crates and wagons, and a small campfire where it looked as though a couple of other people sat. Her curiosity was peaked, fascinated by far too many of the things that had come from the strangers words.
Chroves.
Acrobats.
Circus.