Lahja

Rhoana awoke to a peaceful dawn. The sound of a gentle breeze hummed its way through the blades of grass and a blanket of blue sky and clouds passed over-head. She found herself amongst brush and stone and a sudden, swift reminder of her predicament came to the fore through throbbing pain. She took to her feet, the passing of hours unknown as she hurriedly made her way across the fields.

It had been quite some time since the death of Onni. Rhoana had begun busying herself with travelling across Forochel when weather permitted. She began plotting different areas and mapping the land, predominantly where certain animals grazed in number. Upon returning, the villagers would gladly take heed of her findings to prepare for greater hunts; though whisperings and suspicions soon wrought themselves through the camp as Rhoana began hunting more herself.

Storms like these last many days in Forochel, it is always wise to prepare the homesteads with lasting food, water and warmth. It had been a long stretch this time, this storm, though they were unsure the exact amount of days. The hut was dark except for the flicker of light from the large fire, the whole family was sat about it, conversations had been lead and driven, though one did not participate.