The child was terrified as storms raged outside the old building they were taking shelter in, the wind rattling the tightly locked windows. Wraithvine got the fire going while others did their best to help the frightened child calm. Including a gentle, cuddly, feline.
@internutter/challenge-04008-j356-a-lesson-in-trust
@internutter/challenge-04148-k130-one-link-in-the-chain
@internutter/challenge-04240-k222-midwinterfeast-blessings -- Anon Guest
Rain raged against the old farmhouse's roof. The wind screamed in the trees outside, threatening to extinguish the fire as Wraithvine attempted to start it. Gikka, feeling every degree of the cold, had sunk into a torpor and a convenient corner. Amity had monopolised the blankets because Berrie was shivering.
They were still shivering even though they should have been nice and toasty warm.
Amity rocked with her adopted child, trying to hum a tune above the racket of the storm. Which was too loud to do such a thing.
Lilbit, finished with grooming her floof, oozed her way into the blankets, and then Berrie's arms. There, she started purring and doing her own work to clean Berrie as only a cat can.
That, and purring from Lilbit and Amity both helped the shivers wind to a halt.
Berrie hadn't been cold for an hour. They'd been frightened of the storm. A reasonable fear, since the racket was like nothing heard in thousands of years. Something like the last volleys of the previous outbreak of war.
A war Berrie remembered.
A bryg'haduun had a tangential relationship with what might pass as normal time. Berrie was simultaneously five and fifty thousand years old. Depending on how one counted such things.
Only a true asshole would count a clearly terrified child as fifty thousand years old.
The fire finally caught and stayed lit, defying the wind. Closer examination would reveal a small fire elemental curled up in the firewood, keeping the whole thing alight.
Finally, the great immortal Wizard could make a start on this evening's stew.
[Photo by Josep Castells on Unsplash]
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