Lost Creek Hollow Nemo Sine Vitio Est

Sarah had never been as fond of the fictional world as Osprey or her sister Wraen had been. She had listened to the stories as a kid, but as soon her age allowed to deal with the more practical stuff, she had busied herself with learning the trade and growing up. Mother had used to jokingly say that they needed people, who stood firmly on the ground, to level out the air-head proportion in the family. 

Time had passed and one day Sarah had realized that she was not totally averse to story-telling as such and that there was a particular kind she enjoyed the most. The one, which dealt with real events, real people. No magic, no gods, no unicorns or rainbows, the stuff you encountered in every day life. That could also happen to you. As she listened to Gannet's story, she found some details of his story familiar. It was not the first time she heard about the hungry bugs, who had stripped the valley off greenery and been the reason to the famine that had followed afterwards. 

"I was born somewhere here amidst famine. I was too small remember hunger, but my mom did," she told the facts. "We left afterwards, but she and dad did a meticulous job to teach us, how to survive, when prey is scarce," Sarah said with a hint of pride in her voice. She had devoured every lesson the same way Wraen had breathed in stories their mother had told them. This was such a pleasant memory that it shone like a bright star in the night and made the hate retreat in the darkness. "You traveled - where did you go?" she asked then, this time the question came easier.