Post by Winnkey (Thomas) on Jan 5, 2009 21:59:18 GMT 10
Here is an avatar fanfic im currently writing.
I will just say don't expect Updates Regularly i have not written anything new in a while
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A whisper In The Wind
Uindo
The War is over. The Fire lord was killed. Peace now reigns over the four nations. Or does it. The Air nomads all fled when the Fire nation came. They were nomads; free and peace loving people. They had no armies no weapons so when the fire nation came they were captured or they had to flee the nation that they knew. Nomads are not meant to have earthly desires but some still did not want to leave their simple way, so they decide to try and fight for what they had. The gift of wind was there main weapon but that was almost useless against the ruthlessness of the fire nation. They were the ones that died. The others fled the known world. With only the wind to guide them. They reached a new world. One of animals and nature, a world the nomads called their homes. It was not tainted by the evils of man. No pollution or fear this was as close as they could get to peace. They lived as nomads did. Building no towns moving freely to where the wind guided them. The past was forgotten but not by some. Some wished to return. They were called fools but they did as they wished hoping to see their beloved nation. They did not return. This is the forgotten history of my people. Well the story my grandma has told me.
Me, who I am, well I am I nobody I’m just another nomad travelling the plains of this new world. But if you must know I am Uindo. A female Air Nomad. I am only 13 year of age. I live as we all do travelling around the New World as nomads living off the earth and travelling where the wind tells us to travel. I am told that I am a descendant of the Southern Air Temple as are all the people I travel with, but that means nothing to me. I am told there are more of us travelling this land but that does not make sense to me. If the wind guides us then why does it guide us differently? My Grandma tells me that everyone reads the wind differently and it is not our place to judge which is right or wrong but just follow the way the wind has told us to go. We are currently living at a Waterfall. There are a lot of fruit trees around this Waterfall but we must not eat more than we need to, because we are no more important than the fruit itself. If the fruit was not there how would we eat, so that is why it is important. At night we sit around the camp fire and drink tea. People tell stories what they have been told of the Old World and how different it was. How much better we are to be here and not there. But I do not think so. The stories of people using other elements. It seems all too surreal for me. How people can live differently. Not travelling but living in the one place. If they live in one place how do they live, would not the recourses of that area run out? No one can answer these questions any more. My grandma is not even sure and she is the elder of our people.
But it was fate. My questions would be answered and it would be the wind that would answer them for me. But how is the best way to tell this story. Well how is the best way to tell all stories? I will start at the start. This all started not long ago. But it seems that it has been such a long time. We, my sister and I were playing. I’m not sure what game anymore but it was in a tree. It was a big tree one of the biggest I had seen it was high but also wide. It was the greatest tree I had ever seen. It had no fruit or Flowers but it was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen it was so majestic. Well anyway I was chasing my sister. Up and down and swinging on almost all the branches. My sister had long brown and untamed hair. Was tall and skinny much like me but I was only a bit shorter than her. We were always called the other but we did not mind. Her hair was flickering in the fading light that was reaching us between the tree branches. The wind was blowing not hard but strong enough to move almost all the branches. The first time I was not sure if I had heard anything but looking back I am sure that I had. It was a simple word that came drifting on the wind to my ears. It took me a moment to understand the word. But when I deciphered it I was sure that it was it. The word was peace. When I heard it I stopped. It was so faint that I was not sure. Did someone say it from far away or had I just imagined that the movement of the wind against the branches was a voice that was not truly there. My sister came back to me. She asked me what was wrong. I told her the truth. I thought that I had heard something. She said that she had heard nothing and that it was best that we go back to other because it was getting dark and that was it. We went back and we did nothing. I was sure that I had imagined the word and it was only my imagination making things up. But from then on I heard things. Quiet things, things that drifted on the winds. But all roughly the same message. Peace. It was sometimes. No War or Freedom but it was all the same thing and that was the message of peace. I told my Grandma first she did not believe me, told me that the mind was playing tricks. You were only hearing what you wanted to here. You thought you heard it once and you wanted to hear it again and you did that’s all it was. The mind will make anything into something when we want it to. I left only confused and for the first time doubting my Grandma’s wisdom.
But I was a nobody, who was I to talk against my Grandma’s wisdom. I continued to live my life but no matter how hard I tried to ignore the voices the stronger they became. I still wanted to believe my grandma. So I did not listen, no matter how loud the message was or what the message was saying. But the message never really changed. It just grew in detail. When I finally listened the message had transformed. It was now ‘War is over, Peace’. These messages made no sense to me until a couple of days ago. When I was deemed old enough to know the reason we fled our old homes. I got told that we were chased and that we had to hide but not the complete truth. Not of how the So called fire nation had made a war against everyone and we where the first victims. The sheer disregard of life shocked me. How could any man little own a nation do that to another. I was brought up believing that we were even equal with even the dirt that we walked on because without that dirt we would fall and die. But these men obviously did not believe that. What they did was unimaginable to me. And I was greatly shocked by the whole story.
I sat up by myself just thinking. About everything that I had been told. And it was not until than that I did not think that my messages would have any true meaning. I had told that the war was huge and that it was likely that it would never end. Some went back trying to find our Old world but they never returned. So people only believed that the war would only finish when the Old world was destroyed. But if I was to believe my messages that war was over. And now peace ruled the land now governed by war. But again who was I but a child. I could not speak back about such things the elders agreed that the war would never end and how could I say anything different. Because of voices that I heard. The next days the messages grew. The war was over. That was clear now. And that peace governed I already knew that. But it spoke of a person called the avatar. Nations I had not heard of needing the Air nomads. Cries for us to return. I told my grandma of these cries and she called it nonsense something that my mind was making up to cope with the story I had been told. For the first time ever I spoke back to my grandma telling her that I was not making up these voices that it was the wind calling me. She called me a fool and that I needed to grow up if I was ever to be taken seriously. I left with tears in my eyes in a rage that I have never felt before.
Well here I am now. I left my people. When I told everyone they called me a fool. Saying that I was childish and that it was not my place to go by myself. I ignored them and said that the wind has called to me and this is what it says. And if none of you believe me I was destined to make this journey myself. Those where the final words I said to my people looking back I should of left on a better note but it is too late now. If I returned I would only confirm what they believed, which I will not do. I know what I must do and this is it. I must return to the World that I do not know or even know where it is.
--------
A Stormy Night
I had made a little distance from the camp and was now in a land I had not been in before. Looking down as I glided I could see trees and animals I had not yet seen. It was like a completely different world to the one that I’m was use to. This world was hilly and there were rocks everywhere. The trees did not grow the hight or the girth of the ones where my fellow nomads and I travelled.
These trees seemed fragile and weak in comparison and the animals where different as well, well for one thing there was a lot less. The new land was not friendly and as I looked up it was all I could see.
The sun was now going and the night was approaching. The wind was picking up, it was blowing from behind and pushing me along. It was almost as if the wind was telling me that I was doing the right thing and that I should keep on going and so I did. I only travelled a little further that night because just a few minutes later a blinding flash filled my eyes. I thought that I had gone blind, but it quickly disappeared just as it had come. The thunder came so fast that I had not even processed that the flash was lighting. The thunder was so loud and deafening; it shook me to my core. I lost grip of my glider and fell.
It was no big deal I had fallen lots of times off my glider. I could get back on easily but this time it was different, the wind had picked up, it was almost gale force. I had never fallen in such a storm or at night. I couldn’t do it, in no time I had lost sight of my glider and was falling. It was a great height and because of the darkness and the storm I could not see the ground clearly. This was the first time I feared for my life, ever. It would not be my last. I saw the ground at the last second. I quickly bended all the air I could between me and it to try and slow my fall. It slowed my fall but not enough; I hit the ground shoulder first. It was a sickening sound I heard no snap or crack so I didn’t think that anything broke but the sound was a thump. A thump words can never describe, one that seemed not real to me. Yet it was real and the pain straight after was real as well. A pain so strong, so sharp that I had never felt before, although the sound did not sound real this confirmed it. The pain was sharp and no matter what I did it would not stop. I could feel the warm thick blood flowing between the gaps of my fingers as I held it.
I knew I could not stay there but I did not like the idea of moving. Eventually I did, I don’t know how much time had passed only that the storm was now worse, rain was coming down in sheets, smothering the ground with water. There was more lighting and thunder just as intense as the first maybe even more so. The ground had become unstable with the fast flow of water coming down the hill.
This was the first time I looked around; it was a hill, maybe even a mountain. At this point I did not care. I could not stay in this weather so I walked downhill simply because it was easier. It was hard tracking down the mountain, the Water rushing past me from what felt like all sides, deafening thunder claps and disorienting flashes of lightning. In all truth I could not tell if I was truly moving down or not, I thought I was but no matter which way I walked it felt like the water was a against me, and the sound of the thunder and the flashes of lightning made me disoriented and confused, not to mention the thick blood slowly still coming out of my shoulder. But no matter what I would not stop because the thought of staying in this storm, hearing the howling furry of the wind. It was to much and I would continue walking until I would find shelter or fall.
The storm never stopped, never lost its rage, the wind continued its furry and I continued my, what seemed pointless hike. On the verge of collapsing I noticed a cliff hanging, tiny by all means but it was the most inviting thing I had ever seen. I can’t tell you how long I hiked for; time was an impossible factor to judge in the storm. I could hardly walk, blisters on the heels of both feet, not to mention all the cuts all over my feet. Even if had only been ten minutes it was the longest walk I had ever done.
The hangover was minuscule, although though it protected from the beating rain the inside was still wet. The ground was not even, sharp rocks sticking out of the ground making it extremely uncomfortable and a little painful but anything was better than that storm. I could not even lay down it was so small so I curled up into a ball. My shoulder had stopped bleeding, I don’t know when or if it was infected either, it did not matter. I had not brought any medicine but if I did it would not matter either because everything I had packed was on my glider which had most likely to my knowledge flown off anywhere and was now destroyed. The pain of the gash was still there so sharp and painful, a pain I had never known. I was hungry but that did not matter because the pain soon drained out the feeling of hunger. That night I cried myself to sleep, with the sound of rain beating the world around me.
------
The Morning after
The thing that woke me first was not the pain in my shoulder as I thought it would have been, though that followed straight afterwards. It was the rays of morning sun passing through the cracks of the hangover and also the crisp morning breeze blowing gently across my skin. The first thing that I did do was feel my shoulder just to confirm to myself that last night was not a dream and there it was a now scabbing gash in my left shoulder. There was not much pain in the shoulder, well that is what I thought until I moved it for the first time and the pain came rushing back, spreading throughout the whole arm, it would be wise of me to move it as little as possible. I got up slowly trying to move the arm as little as possible, at this pace it would be a long journey. But to where surely I could not continue on the long adventure but also how could I return with only a day passed. No, both seemed wrong. Yet those were the only ones I could think of at the moment.
Well at the moment it did not really matter the thing that matted the most to me at this time was the feeling of hunger my stomach was roaring at me. With little energy I got out of the little and damp hangover. The sun was still rising, sky was blue and the breeze was gentle and crisp. Small birds chirped in the distance and the morning was so peaceful and beautiful and in no way reflecting last night and the storm. Of course there were signs of the storm, creeks newly formed running strong, toppled over trees and other small things revealing what had happened last night. No wonder the trees were small and flimsy here, they were not given the chance to grow and be strong, and it was saddening.
I looked back upon the hangover and what looked so welcoming and protective last night looked completely different. It looked almost like a tomb and that was the vibe I was getting from it, I could not believe how different it could look in a different light. I looked away not wanting to remind myself of last night and set off down the hill at a very slow place trying not to move the arm but every misstep or ditch I took I got a sharp pain which would make me stop and sometimes collapse. That’s what it was, a hill. Just a smallish hill that was before a mountain range, a feeling of luck ran through me that I had not fallen into the mountains or I would have been in a lot more trouble then I was in now. Though when I thought of being in more trouble nothing came to mind, this was the worst thing I could think of.
Not sure on the move I should make next I walked down to one of the newly formed streams. I got down on my knees and with difficulty cupped some water into my mouth, each time my arm moved I still felt the pain but it was a pain that I needed to ignore for the time being because I needed to survive first before worrying about it. I caught a rough image of myself in the fast moving water, I was a mess. Completely covered in mud, sweat and whatever else was on the floor of that hangover. The best thing to do would be clean my shoulder and the rest of me while I was at it.
I had a quick look around to be sure no one was near, not that I expected any to be it was the middle of nowhere. But I needed to check just in case; to be sure I was alone. Don’t want anyone peeking. I started to unfasten my shirt…
“Hey!”
As quick as quick I pull my shirt together, with the blood rushing to my head making me blush. The sudden movement making my shoulder scream with pain at me. I ignored it I was much more interested where that voice I had heard came from. I turn around to where I thought I heard the voice, and on some rocks which where until a moment ago bare, now stood a boy about my age. Flustered and a loss for words I stood dumbfounded and Mouth wide open. Still holding the edges of my shirt closely shut with one hand and the other holding the gash on my shoulder as if I was trying to suppress the pain.
The unknown boy spoke while scratching the back of his head, “sorry, I saw you just a few moments before and did not know how to introduce myself. And the next moment you were about to undress, well I was not just going to sit here peeking as you went to wash.” As he talked I gained some composure back, took my hand off my shoulder because I knew that holding it would do nothing and then refastened my shirt. Still dumbfounded I spoke “W-well thanks…” The boy had completely caught me off guard a million thoughts were going through my head and as the boy stood there just staring at me looking a little foolish but nothing compared to what I must be looking like, what must I look like? Covered in mud, just spent a night in something I could not even consider a cave. What I looked like finally hit me. I felt the blood again rush to my face, a second time; I must be as red as a beetroot at the moment but I doubt he could see it through all the mud covering my face.
The Boy jumped down off the boulders, a large distance, a distance that probably anyone other than an Airbender would have been hurt from. He walked slowly towards me with something in his eyes, a something that I did not know what it was. Well I could not tell until he spoke that is. “What happened to you? Well, I mean why are you like that?” The thing I had seen in his eyes was curiosity and excitement. I don’t know what it was but there was something about him that relaxed me, I could tell that he meant no harm towards me and he was just as shocked as me to seeing him as he was to seeing me. I told him my story and he just stared at me completely Fascinated but at the same time saddened by what I was saying.
After my little story he awoke from his daze and looked at me with a more controlled look and spoke. “Well come with me, I will take you to my tribe. You will be able to clean up and have your wound looked after.” I looked completely horrendous, my shoulder was numb with pain and I was running on fumes but the look in his face, a look of control and support engulfed me, I felt that I could trust him.
I felt safe.
I will just say don't expect Updates Regularly i have not written anything new in a while
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A whisper In The Wind
Uindo
The War is over. The Fire lord was killed. Peace now reigns over the four nations. Or does it. The Air nomads all fled when the Fire nation came. They were nomads; free and peace loving people. They had no armies no weapons so when the fire nation came they were captured or they had to flee the nation that they knew. Nomads are not meant to have earthly desires but some still did not want to leave their simple way, so they decide to try and fight for what they had. The gift of wind was there main weapon but that was almost useless against the ruthlessness of the fire nation. They were the ones that died. The others fled the known world. With only the wind to guide them. They reached a new world. One of animals and nature, a world the nomads called their homes. It was not tainted by the evils of man. No pollution or fear this was as close as they could get to peace. They lived as nomads did. Building no towns moving freely to where the wind guided them. The past was forgotten but not by some. Some wished to return. They were called fools but they did as they wished hoping to see their beloved nation. They did not return. This is the forgotten history of my people. Well the story my grandma has told me.
Me, who I am, well I am I nobody I’m just another nomad travelling the plains of this new world. But if you must know I am Uindo. A female Air Nomad. I am only 13 year of age. I live as we all do travelling around the New World as nomads living off the earth and travelling where the wind tells us to travel. I am told that I am a descendant of the Southern Air Temple as are all the people I travel with, but that means nothing to me. I am told there are more of us travelling this land but that does not make sense to me. If the wind guides us then why does it guide us differently? My Grandma tells me that everyone reads the wind differently and it is not our place to judge which is right or wrong but just follow the way the wind has told us to go. We are currently living at a Waterfall. There are a lot of fruit trees around this Waterfall but we must not eat more than we need to, because we are no more important than the fruit itself. If the fruit was not there how would we eat, so that is why it is important. At night we sit around the camp fire and drink tea. People tell stories what they have been told of the Old World and how different it was. How much better we are to be here and not there. But I do not think so. The stories of people using other elements. It seems all too surreal for me. How people can live differently. Not travelling but living in the one place. If they live in one place how do they live, would not the recourses of that area run out? No one can answer these questions any more. My grandma is not even sure and she is the elder of our people.
But it was fate. My questions would be answered and it would be the wind that would answer them for me. But how is the best way to tell this story. Well how is the best way to tell all stories? I will start at the start. This all started not long ago. But it seems that it has been such a long time. We, my sister and I were playing. I’m not sure what game anymore but it was in a tree. It was a big tree one of the biggest I had seen it was high but also wide. It was the greatest tree I had ever seen. It had no fruit or Flowers but it was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen it was so majestic. Well anyway I was chasing my sister. Up and down and swinging on almost all the branches. My sister had long brown and untamed hair. Was tall and skinny much like me but I was only a bit shorter than her. We were always called the other but we did not mind. Her hair was flickering in the fading light that was reaching us between the tree branches. The wind was blowing not hard but strong enough to move almost all the branches. The first time I was not sure if I had heard anything but looking back I am sure that I had. It was a simple word that came drifting on the wind to my ears. It took me a moment to understand the word. But when I deciphered it I was sure that it was it. The word was peace. When I heard it I stopped. It was so faint that I was not sure. Did someone say it from far away or had I just imagined that the movement of the wind against the branches was a voice that was not truly there. My sister came back to me. She asked me what was wrong. I told her the truth. I thought that I had heard something. She said that she had heard nothing and that it was best that we go back to other because it was getting dark and that was it. We went back and we did nothing. I was sure that I had imagined the word and it was only my imagination making things up. But from then on I heard things. Quiet things, things that drifted on the winds. But all roughly the same message. Peace. It was sometimes. No War or Freedom but it was all the same thing and that was the message of peace. I told my Grandma first she did not believe me, told me that the mind was playing tricks. You were only hearing what you wanted to here. You thought you heard it once and you wanted to hear it again and you did that’s all it was. The mind will make anything into something when we want it to. I left only confused and for the first time doubting my Grandma’s wisdom.
But I was a nobody, who was I to talk against my Grandma’s wisdom. I continued to live my life but no matter how hard I tried to ignore the voices the stronger they became. I still wanted to believe my grandma. So I did not listen, no matter how loud the message was or what the message was saying. But the message never really changed. It just grew in detail. When I finally listened the message had transformed. It was now ‘War is over, Peace’. These messages made no sense to me until a couple of days ago. When I was deemed old enough to know the reason we fled our old homes. I got told that we were chased and that we had to hide but not the complete truth. Not of how the So called fire nation had made a war against everyone and we where the first victims. The sheer disregard of life shocked me. How could any man little own a nation do that to another. I was brought up believing that we were even equal with even the dirt that we walked on because without that dirt we would fall and die. But these men obviously did not believe that. What they did was unimaginable to me. And I was greatly shocked by the whole story.
I sat up by myself just thinking. About everything that I had been told. And it was not until than that I did not think that my messages would have any true meaning. I had told that the war was huge and that it was likely that it would never end. Some went back trying to find our Old world but they never returned. So people only believed that the war would only finish when the Old world was destroyed. But if I was to believe my messages that war was over. And now peace ruled the land now governed by war. But again who was I but a child. I could not speak back about such things the elders agreed that the war would never end and how could I say anything different. Because of voices that I heard. The next days the messages grew. The war was over. That was clear now. And that peace governed I already knew that. But it spoke of a person called the avatar. Nations I had not heard of needing the Air nomads. Cries for us to return. I told my grandma of these cries and she called it nonsense something that my mind was making up to cope with the story I had been told. For the first time ever I spoke back to my grandma telling her that I was not making up these voices that it was the wind calling me. She called me a fool and that I needed to grow up if I was ever to be taken seriously. I left with tears in my eyes in a rage that I have never felt before.
Well here I am now. I left my people. When I told everyone they called me a fool. Saying that I was childish and that it was not my place to go by myself. I ignored them and said that the wind has called to me and this is what it says. And if none of you believe me I was destined to make this journey myself. Those where the final words I said to my people looking back I should of left on a better note but it is too late now. If I returned I would only confirm what they believed, which I will not do. I know what I must do and this is it. I must return to the World that I do not know or even know where it is.
--------
A Stormy Night
I had made a little distance from the camp and was now in a land I had not been in before. Looking down as I glided I could see trees and animals I had not yet seen. It was like a completely different world to the one that I’m was use to. This world was hilly and there were rocks everywhere. The trees did not grow the hight or the girth of the ones where my fellow nomads and I travelled.
These trees seemed fragile and weak in comparison and the animals where different as well, well for one thing there was a lot less. The new land was not friendly and as I looked up it was all I could see.
The sun was now going and the night was approaching. The wind was picking up, it was blowing from behind and pushing me along. It was almost as if the wind was telling me that I was doing the right thing and that I should keep on going and so I did. I only travelled a little further that night because just a few minutes later a blinding flash filled my eyes. I thought that I had gone blind, but it quickly disappeared just as it had come. The thunder came so fast that I had not even processed that the flash was lighting. The thunder was so loud and deafening; it shook me to my core. I lost grip of my glider and fell.
It was no big deal I had fallen lots of times off my glider. I could get back on easily but this time it was different, the wind had picked up, it was almost gale force. I had never fallen in such a storm or at night. I couldn’t do it, in no time I had lost sight of my glider and was falling. It was a great height and because of the darkness and the storm I could not see the ground clearly. This was the first time I feared for my life, ever. It would not be my last. I saw the ground at the last second. I quickly bended all the air I could between me and it to try and slow my fall. It slowed my fall but not enough; I hit the ground shoulder first. It was a sickening sound I heard no snap or crack so I didn’t think that anything broke but the sound was a thump. A thump words can never describe, one that seemed not real to me. Yet it was real and the pain straight after was real as well. A pain so strong, so sharp that I had never felt before, although the sound did not sound real this confirmed it. The pain was sharp and no matter what I did it would not stop. I could feel the warm thick blood flowing between the gaps of my fingers as I held it.
I knew I could not stay there but I did not like the idea of moving. Eventually I did, I don’t know how much time had passed only that the storm was now worse, rain was coming down in sheets, smothering the ground with water. There was more lighting and thunder just as intense as the first maybe even more so. The ground had become unstable with the fast flow of water coming down the hill.
This was the first time I looked around; it was a hill, maybe even a mountain. At this point I did not care. I could not stay in this weather so I walked downhill simply because it was easier. It was hard tracking down the mountain, the Water rushing past me from what felt like all sides, deafening thunder claps and disorienting flashes of lightning. In all truth I could not tell if I was truly moving down or not, I thought I was but no matter which way I walked it felt like the water was a against me, and the sound of the thunder and the flashes of lightning made me disoriented and confused, not to mention the thick blood slowly still coming out of my shoulder. But no matter what I would not stop because the thought of staying in this storm, hearing the howling furry of the wind. It was to much and I would continue walking until I would find shelter or fall.
The storm never stopped, never lost its rage, the wind continued its furry and I continued my, what seemed pointless hike. On the verge of collapsing I noticed a cliff hanging, tiny by all means but it was the most inviting thing I had ever seen. I can’t tell you how long I hiked for; time was an impossible factor to judge in the storm. I could hardly walk, blisters on the heels of both feet, not to mention all the cuts all over my feet. Even if had only been ten minutes it was the longest walk I had ever done.
The hangover was minuscule, although though it protected from the beating rain the inside was still wet. The ground was not even, sharp rocks sticking out of the ground making it extremely uncomfortable and a little painful but anything was better than that storm. I could not even lay down it was so small so I curled up into a ball. My shoulder had stopped bleeding, I don’t know when or if it was infected either, it did not matter. I had not brought any medicine but if I did it would not matter either because everything I had packed was on my glider which had most likely to my knowledge flown off anywhere and was now destroyed. The pain of the gash was still there so sharp and painful, a pain I had never known. I was hungry but that did not matter because the pain soon drained out the feeling of hunger. That night I cried myself to sleep, with the sound of rain beating the world around me.
------
The Morning after
The thing that woke me first was not the pain in my shoulder as I thought it would have been, though that followed straight afterwards. It was the rays of morning sun passing through the cracks of the hangover and also the crisp morning breeze blowing gently across my skin. The first thing that I did do was feel my shoulder just to confirm to myself that last night was not a dream and there it was a now scabbing gash in my left shoulder. There was not much pain in the shoulder, well that is what I thought until I moved it for the first time and the pain came rushing back, spreading throughout the whole arm, it would be wise of me to move it as little as possible. I got up slowly trying to move the arm as little as possible, at this pace it would be a long journey. But to where surely I could not continue on the long adventure but also how could I return with only a day passed. No, both seemed wrong. Yet those were the only ones I could think of at the moment.
Well at the moment it did not really matter the thing that matted the most to me at this time was the feeling of hunger my stomach was roaring at me. With little energy I got out of the little and damp hangover. The sun was still rising, sky was blue and the breeze was gentle and crisp. Small birds chirped in the distance and the morning was so peaceful and beautiful and in no way reflecting last night and the storm. Of course there were signs of the storm, creeks newly formed running strong, toppled over trees and other small things revealing what had happened last night. No wonder the trees were small and flimsy here, they were not given the chance to grow and be strong, and it was saddening.
I looked back upon the hangover and what looked so welcoming and protective last night looked completely different. It looked almost like a tomb and that was the vibe I was getting from it, I could not believe how different it could look in a different light. I looked away not wanting to remind myself of last night and set off down the hill at a very slow place trying not to move the arm but every misstep or ditch I took I got a sharp pain which would make me stop and sometimes collapse. That’s what it was, a hill. Just a smallish hill that was before a mountain range, a feeling of luck ran through me that I had not fallen into the mountains or I would have been in a lot more trouble then I was in now. Though when I thought of being in more trouble nothing came to mind, this was the worst thing I could think of.
Not sure on the move I should make next I walked down to one of the newly formed streams. I got down on my knees and with difficulty cupped some water into my mouth, each time my arm moved I still felt the pain but it was a pain that I needed to ignore for the time being because I needed to survive first before worrying about it. I caught a rough image of myself in the fast moving water, I was a mess. Completely covered in mud, sweat and whatever else was on the floor of that hangover. The best thing to do would be clean my shoulder and the rest of me while I was at it.
I had a quick look around to be sure no one was near, not that I expected any to be it was the middle of nowhere. But I needed to check just in case; to be sure I was alone. Don’t want anyone peeking. I started to unfasten my shirt…
“Hey!”
As quick as quick I pull my shirt together, with the blood rushing to my head making me blush. The sudden movement making my shoulder scream with pain at me. I ignored it I was much more interested where that voice I had heard came from. I turn around to where I thought I heard the voice, and on some rocks which where until a moment ago bare, now stood a boy about my age. Flustered and a loss for words I stood dumbfounded and Mouth wide open. Still holding the edges of my shirt closely shut with one hand and the other holding the gash on my shoulder as if I was trying to suppress the pain.
The unknown boy spoke while scratching the back of his head, “sorry, I saw you just a few moments before and did not know how to introduce myself. And the next moment you were about to undress, well I was not just going to sit here peeking as you went to wash.” As he talked I gained some composure back, took my hand off my shoulder because I knew that holding it would do nothing and then refastened my shirt. Still dumbfounded I spoke “W-well thanks…” The boy had completely caught me off guard a million thoughts were going through my head and as the boy stood there just staring at me looking a little foolish but nothing compared to what I must be looking like, what must I look like? Covered in mud, just spent a night in something I could not even consider a cave. What I looked like finally hit me. I felt the blood again rush to my face, a second time; I must be as red as a beetroot at the moment but I doubt he could see it through all the mud covering my face.
The Boy jumped down off the boulders, a large distance, a distance that probably anyone other than an Airbender would have been hurt from. He walked slowly towards me with something in his eyes, a something that I did not know what it was. Well I could not tell until he spoke that is. “What happened to you? Well, I mean why are you like that?” The thing I had seen in his eyes was curiosity and excitement. I don’t know what it was but there was something about him that relaxed me, I could tell that he meant no harm towards me and he was just as shocked as me to seeing him as he was to seeing me. I told him my story and he just stared at me completely Fascinated but at the same time saddened by what I was saying.
After my little story he awoke from his daze and looked at me with a more controlled look and spoke. “Well come with me, I will take you to my tribe. You will be able to clean up and have your wound looked after.” I looked completely horrendous, my shoulder was numb with pain and I was running on fumes but the look in his face, a look of control and support engulfed me, I felt that I could trust him.
I felt safe.
