After a few more long tiring walks going back to her route, Georgette’s knees were getting sore, and her feet underneath her boots were begging for cold water and salve. She sighed, looking at the dusk sky, fluctuating its color from orange to intense yellowish red into purple. Another day had ended and she hadn’t reached Wolfram’s lair yet. She smoothed her hair, trying to massage her scalp where Red had yanked and pulled a few strands of her locks. Her anger rose, not towards Red but more to herself, she let her do that to her. She was so consumed by her thoughts and idly walking that she didn’t realize a group of men was in a camp, drinking beer and merrymaking nearby. One of the drunken men spotted her and nudged the other man next to him. “Hey look what I found,” then jutted his chin to point at her, still unaware of their presence. The men sneered maliciously, thinking the same thing. One man, a burly with a huge belly suddenly recognized her and shouted. “Drats! That’s her!
The sound of a loud horn blowing in the air made Georgette yell out and wide awake. Jerking up, she looked at her surroundings, checking where she was and why she was lying on a bed. Slowly sitting up, whispers from the outside of this huge tent, the flap was closed but she could hear the voices of the people, chatting or was it just her imagination? She looked at the interior and spied out for any sign of hostility, a canopy of thick fabric laid decoratively above her head and some outlandish ornaments hanging horizontally in a string tied in the bedpost where she lay. The mattress was tufted, lumps of cotton and sheepskins, sewn pieces to pieces to make a huge twin-sized bed. She also checked the thick yet downy piece of fabric that lay over her as a blanket. She lay it on her cheek and rubbed it against her hand, it was soft as cotton and thick as wool. Then a voice, a lad blurted out, peeping on the flap of the opening and saw her adoring the blanket. “Mom, She’s awake! Come!”
Georgette got bored and tried to ease it by walking out of her tent. Eyes were always on her anywhere she went, hugging herself and tugging her hood up, she hurriedly walked but bumped into someone’s chest. An arm caught her before she fell to the ground, then steadied her back to her feet. “I beg your pardon, Sir... I… was not looking,” she apologized, lowering her head. “It was nothing, young lass, but next time, watch your step,” the man, who saved him spoke and walked to her side. She didn’t look back at him, she didn’t even have a face to look at him but she heard him calling her name. So she turned just to see how charming and captivating the man was with his gorgeous grin and hazel brown eyes. “Welcome to Rugabaga, Georgette,” then he turned his back, leaving her the impression that he was flirting with him with that wink. She shook her head and smiled to herself, then she continued to walk when her brother jumped on her side which made her jerk up. “I got you with that!”
Blanchett watched her son disappear into the forest with his peers, running and squealing, jesting and fooling around. She could still hear them, smiling to herself before she decided to look for her other child. She closed her eyes and let other senses help her in searching, she opened her eyes, getting the exact location. A thing she acquired when she turned together her unique power to sense someone’s intention behind the skin deep. They said it was innate in her, but Joachim concluded that it was her gift.A testament that their ancestors and deity accepted her as their member, she became one of the most powerful bay wolves in the tribe, second to Grand Zelda, the witch doctor and the only eldest left in the Rugabaga tribe. Joachim’s foster mother, whom she considered as her mother-in-law. Her daughter was in the vale, sitting in the huge stone and rock formation that served as the laundry and backwoods of their camp. Sighing, Blanchett realized that her daughter was missing hom
Joachim’s stern face scared Blanchett. She knew that her husband wouldn’t like the tidings that she just broke to him lightly, trying to lessen the intensity of his wrath. Soon, he grabbed the table and threw it outside. He snatched another chair and smashed it, she tried to stop him but he was furious, full of emotions and disappointment. It took a while before her husband stopped, sending the whole place into a disastrous sight. “Why did we let this happen to her?” he asked more to himself. Turning his back to her. She knew he was crying, angry, dumbstruck, and guilty, she could tell to his tensed back and panting the anguish of a father who failed to protect his daughter. Blanchett was speechless, she also blamed herself for what happened and why this happened. They abandoned their child, their firstborn child. “This is not your fault, Joachim, we didn’t want this to happen,”“But why my daughter?” he turned, showing his crystal tears and his dejected face. “She’s my daughter
Wolfram was agitated. His mind was trying to concentrate on the inauguration of the rain season, to fill every aqueduct and riverbank and flows to the artificial channels preparing for the summer so that in harvesting season, the water supply was sufficient and prevented a drought and barren soil in the heat of this coming summer. He kept his worries at bay but his heart was longing for someone, his loneliness and emptiness were getting stronger as weeks passed by and his mind couldn’t take her away from his reverie. He missed her, so badly. Every time he was alone, he would hear voices, her whispers, her laughter, and her cries. His bonny maiden. His love, his life. His heart is calling for Georgette. His eyes fluttered open, his mind couldn’t keep this up and it might ruin the ritual. “You are quite distraught, my child, what is it? Is it about her again?” The voice from a female vixen broke the silence. He didn’t reply, knowing she already knew. It was a waste of time to deny
Red had been going in circles, she tried to trace back the last landmark she passed earlier on but the rock formations and the trees that she was seeing around were all the same. Then she followed a trail heading to an inlet and led her into the marsh, she didn’t know if she would be able to go back to where the last sign that she memorized when she entered the dark forest. She planned to harm Georgette and left her in the wilderness but she was the one that was lost. Annoyed and tired, she stomped her feet and marched her way to the grassland, hoping to find someone or something that would help her get out of this forsaken place. She sighed angrily, thinking that Georgette had tricked her and gnawed with loathsome despair to scratch the smile on that bitch’s face. “Bitch! I will kill you if I happen to find you!” she vindicated, throwing an angry fist in the air. She continued to walk, looking around and feeling a little distressed, she felt someone was watching her. She didn’
Blanchett was shaking and anticipating, standing in front of the old woman, whom they considered as the priestess of the Moon, Grand Zelda was getting quite silent for a long while, after she told her about what she found out about her daughter’s lover. “So, what do you think, Old Zelda? How can you interpret the signs?” she asked once again. With pursed lips, the old woman turned, walking slowly heading to her cauldron. She lifted it from the hook and took a handful of the ashes from the unused fire pit then walked to her circle, her witching stuff and herbs, took the runes, and prayed. She was chanting in jibberish, while looking above her head then slowly lifted her two arms, the ashes on her right, and the runes on her left hand. The chanting was getting loud and the old woman's voice was getting pitchy before screaming. Then dropped the ashes and the rune stones on the ground. The stones landed perfectly on the carpet while others were standing to Blanchett’s surprise. The
WHEN Georgette woke up, there were noises around her. She slowly opened her eyes and saw two or three gals inside her tent, bustling out and busying themselves with chores, hearing their giggling and jesting then halted when they saw her, sitting up and rubbing the sleep in her eyes.“Blessed morning to you, young lady,” one on her right greeted with a smile. The lady was wearing a blue-greenish dress with a decent low cutting of neckline, revealing a slight crevice of her bosom, a bodice that showed her tiny waist, and a nice skirt that flowed like water when she moved. Georgette was enthralled by her beautiful dress but the girl’s facial features were also equally captivating with pearly skin with a sprinkle of freckles running to the bridge of her nose, her thin yet straight nose, her hazel brown pair of eyes glinting with confidence and mirth. And plump bottom lip that had a pigment of red tint, bestowing a benevolent smile. Her crowning glory was a red-brownish locks that reac
GEORGETTE was restless upon hearing what the oracle had seen in her near future. She never believed in one because her grandma told her that those things, those people who didn’t practice Christendom and use the method of black magic were evil. Her grandma told her that believing in those practices and faith, would lead anyone to evil and into darkness and God would be angered and punish those people. She was raised believing in God, the All Mighty One, and the only way of redemption to salvation. She is raised as Christian yet, having a half-blood and an affinity to the dark creature, she couldn’t say she fully believes the Doctrine of the High Church regarding Christianity. But the thing that the priestess told her bugged the inside of her. She never wanted to linger on it but her thoughts would always bring her back there, knowing her babe’s welfare was a matter of concern. She was tossing and turning, trying to erase her past trials and troubles when her reverie made her awake
Blanchett was shaking and anticipating, standing in front of the old woman, whom they considered as the priestess of the Moon, Grand Zelda was getting quite silent for a long while, after she told her about what she found out about her daughter’s lover. “So, what do you think, Old Zelda? How can you interpret the signs?” she asked once again. With pursed lips, the old woman turned, walking slowly heading to her cauldron. She lifted it from the hook and took a handful of the ashes from the unused fire pit then walked to her circle, her witching stuff and herbs, took the runes, and prayed. She was chanting in jibberish, while looking above her head then slowly lifted her two arms, the ashes on her right, and the runes on her left hand. The chanting was getting loud and the old woman's voice was getting pitchy before screaming. Then dropped the ashes and the rune stones on the ground. The stones landed perfectly on the carpet while others were standing to Blanchett’s surprise. The
Red had been going in circles, she tried to trace back the last landmark she passed earlier on but the rock formations and the trees that she was seeing around were all the same. Then she followed a trail heading to an inlet and led her into the marsh, she didn’t know if she would be able to go back to where the last sign that she memorized when she entered the dark forest. She planned to harm Georgette and left her in the wilderness but she was the one that was lost. Annoyed and tired, she stomped her feet and marched her way to the grassland, hoping to find someone or something that would help her get out of this forsaken place. She sighed angrily, thinking that Georgette had tricked her and gnawed with loathsome despair to scratch the smile on that bitch’s face. “Bitch! I will kill you if I happen to find you!” she vindicated, throwing an angry fist in the air. She continued to walk, looking around and feeling a little distressed, she felt someone was watching her. She didn’
Wolfram was agitated. His mind was trying to concentrate on the inauguration of the rain season, to fill every aqueduct and riverbank and flows to the artificial channels preparing for the summer so that in harvesting season, the water supply was sufficient and prevented a drought and barren soil in the heat of this coming summer. He kept his worries at bay but his heart was longing for someone, his loneliness and emptiness were getting stronger as weeks passed by and his mind couldn’t take her away from his reverie. He missed her, so badly. Every time he was alone, he would hear voices, her whispers, her laughter, and her cries. His bonny maiden. His love, his life. His heart is calling for Georgette. His eyes fluttered open, his mind couldn’t keep this up and it might ruin the ritual. “You are quite distraught, my child, what is it? Is it about her again?” The voice from a female vixen broke the silence. He didn’t reply, knowing she already knew. It was a waste of time to deny
Joachim’s stern face scared Blanchett. She knew that her husband wouldn’t like the tidings that she just broke to him lightly, trying to lessen the intensity of his wrath. Soon, he grabbed the table and threw it outside. He snatched another chair and smashed it, she tried to stop him but he was furious, full of emotions and disappointment. It took a while before her husband stopped, sending the whole place into a disastrous sight. “Why did we let this happen to her?” he asked more to himself. Turning his back to her. She knew he was crying, angry, dumbstruck, and guilty, she could tell to his tensed back and panting the anguish of a father who failed to protect his daughter. Blanchett was speechless, she also blamed herself for what happened and why this happened. They abandoned their child, their firstborn child. “This is not your fault, Joachim, we didn’t want this to happen,”“But why my daughter?” he turned, showing his crystal tears and his dejected face. “She’s my daughter
Blanchett watched her son disappear into the forest with his peers, running and squealing, jesting and fooling around. She could still hear them, smiling to herself before she decided to look for her other child. She closed her eyes and let other senses help her in searching, she opened her eyes, getting the exact location. A thing she acquired when she turned together her unique power to sense someone’s intention behind the skin deep. They said it was innate in her, but Joachim concluded that it was her gift.A testament that their ancestors and deity accepted her as their member, she became one of the most powerful bay wolves in the tribe, second to Grand Zelda, the witch doctor and the only eldest left in the Rugabaga tribe. Joachim’s foster mother, whom she considered as her mother-in-law. Her daughter was in the vale, sitting in the huge stone and rock formation that served as the laundry and backwoods of their camp. Sighing, Blanchett realized that her daughter was missing hom
Georgette got bored and tried to ease it by walking out of her tent. Eyes were always on her anywhere she went, hugging herself and tugging her hood up, she hurriedly walked but bumped into someone’s chest. An arm caught her before she fell to the ground, then steadied her back to her feet. “I beg your pardon, Sir... I… was not looking,” she apologized, lowering her head. “It was nothing, young lass, but next time, watch your step,” the man, who saved him spoke and walked to her side. She didn’t look back at him, she didn’t even have a face to look at him but she heard him calling her name. So she turned just to see how charming and captivating the man was with his gorgeous grin and hazel brown eyes. “Welcome to Rugabaga, Georgette,” then he turned his back, leaving her the impression that he was flirting with him with that wink. She shook her head and smiled to herself, then she continued to walk when her brother jumped on her side which made her jerk up. “I got you with that!”
The sound of a loud horn blowing in the air made Georgette yell out and wide awake. Jerking up, she looked at her surroundings, checking where she was and why she was lying on a bed. Slowly sitting up, whispers from the outside of this huge tent, the flap was closed but she could hear the voices of the people, chatting or was it just her imagination? She looked at the interior and spied out for any sign of hostility, a canopy of thick fabric laid decoratively above her head and some outlandish ornaments hanging horizontally in a string tied in the bedpost where she lay. The mattress was tufted, lumps of cotton and sheepskins, sewn pieces to pieces to make a huge twin-sized bed. She also checked the thick yet downy piece of fabric that lay over her as a blanket. She lay it on her cheek and rubbed it against her hand, it was soft as cotton and thick as wool. Then a voice, a lad blurted out, peeping on the flap of the opening and saw her adoring the blanket. “Mom, She’s awake! Come!”