Stone Circle here comes a candle

Sanja found herself within the aspenwood with a full and settled belly, but that was the only upside to what had transpired with the stranger.

The kill, that stag which the man had brought down, was dead along the edge of the meadow. She'd eaten as much as she could, then made note of where the carcass had fallen, and left it there. It was easy enough for her to travel to and from it.

Besides, for all her luck the man would be there, guarding it. Taking what he wanted.

She lurked among the aspens, wishing her feet weren't so sore so that she could seek out the creek, and wash off his stench.

tagging @Taktuq if she wants to pop in <3 just wanted to get this rolling so i know where/how she's living

parousia suffered.

the rising temperatures, early abandonment. cards stacked against her and every time she had been saved by the kindness of strangers. but today was a hard day. harder than many others, regardless of any tending or kindness that may have occurred recently.

she had all the tired crankiness of a toddler, amplified by her poor state. she had thought she was near home. although home was more a loose concept now. home was more just somewhere comfortable to be and sleep. she had not found a place like that yet today.

so she cried.

a vulnerable, sad sound in the aspen woods.

Sanja sat beneath a crooked aspen and panted. Her eyes shut, squeezed, and the feeling of it send a tension through her sinuses. It passed down the back of her neck. Imagining the man all over her, again; but she thought of her full belly and the lack of revulsion she felt, and sighed.

With her sigh came another sound — a distant pleading note, one which tugged at her heart. It was such a strong instinct that everything else fell away. Except the pain in her feet, of course, but Sanja could ignore a little pain if it meant saving a child.

She came to where the babe was resting; it was the same as before, except this time the child was somehow bigger and leaner. It was pathetic — but Sanja stayed, and moved in close to the child as if it were her own.

someone approached.

through teary blue eyes, parousia looked up. a dark figure. familiar. who was this? how did she —

mother bear.

parousia snuffled, even more pathetic by the passing moment. mother bear had fed her, tended to her. they had been separated but there was no anger in the child for this. instead she found some blubbering sense of relief as she made her way to the limbs of mother bear.

the woman was too tall for parousia even attempt to reach, but she tried to place kisses on her chin. so desperate for attention and tending to once more.

It was fortunate that Sanja had recently eaten. Her belly was full and the instinctual reaction to the child's kisses amounted to one thing: regurgitation. The stag meat ranged between digested soup and chunks of hot flesh, all which caught in Sanja's throat and then fell to the dirt before the child.

She hated the taste of bile on her tongue. When the moment passed, Sanja kissed the top of the child's head and murmured something in her native tongue - too low to make any sense, but steeped all the same with a yearning. Stop your crying, baby, I am here.

she had remembered this before.

food spilled out from mother bear, an offering to baby snow bear. this time mother bear kissed her crown, whispered soft sweet things. parousia did not understand them, but who was to say she would have even if they had been in a language she did better know.

regardless the message seemed clear. enough so for her tantrum to have subsided. just wet fur from snot and tears remained. a raspy breathing that shallowed enough for there to not be as much of a struggle anymore for her lungs.

she remembered one thing about mother bear though.

that one word she had used had likely been the first word parousia had ever tried to truly learn. so she tried to mumble it here, to mother bear, as she stared at the pile of regurgitated meat.

Svangur... the child said! It was a murmur, like her own voice, and a poor attempt at best, but Sanja understood. There came elation in hearing this familiar sound (even butchered by the child's learning voice); and she kissed the babe's head again.

Já! Sanja encouraged. Svangur. borða, borða!
Her voice was low, loud enough to carry to the child with further encouragement. She nosed the heavier pieces of venison that had piled in the dirt, and feigned eating, showing them what to do. Oh, how weak they were! How thin!

borða, bjarnarungi... Sanja gave the odd wolf cub a nickname, and tucked her close, laying her own chin across the crown of the child's head for a moment. A tender hug.

she was flooded with the good feeling once more.

this mother bear provided the feeling very well. parousia did not have fear or sadness in her heart with this mother bear. only cared for, fed, comforted. she listened to the words that mother bear spoke.

borða, borða...borða. she rattled the word across her tongue as she watched what mother bear did. that word was this action. that she committed to her stunted memory.

parousia — or rather bjarnarungi — found great comfort in the closeness of mother bear as she ate. cherished the touch of the hug. chewing happily on the partially digested pieces of meat. somewhere between pieces she attempted words once more.

bja-bjaaar— the rest of it suddenly felt too complicated.

The child could learn. That put them a step above many others; some could never adapt to life and would suffer for it, and perhaps this one had for a time, but Sanja was there now. She listened, smiling as she held the child - and then laughing softly.

Ja... Bjarna, that would be easier, for now. The little bear cub. For a time Sanja would watch the babe eat, saying nothing else. Basking in her presence.

bjarna, said mother bear.

bjarna, mumbled back the pale girl.

she finished up what she could of the meal given to her straight from the belly of mother bear. her body could not fathom eating it all. already she felt practically bloated to a point of no movement. parousia — or was it bjarna now? — reclined into the plush furs of mother bear.

ja! she yipped as her toes grasped for the earth. it seemed like a word mother bear had used when excited, now she would use it to express her own happiness.

The child ate until they could not.
They were spirited! Their voice carried in to Sanja's chest, and as their toes wiggled in the dirt Sanja wanted to cry and to laugh, because it reminded her of being young herself; she was still young, she thought. Not yet at a stage in her life where this was expected. Her parents would have shunned her for taking in this wretched little thing.

The woman was lonely, though. She thought of the man and the stag. She thought of the grandfather protector. Slavuj too, and the wild man of the rise.

Quietly, more to herself at first, Sanja began to hum a tune. She felt her heart thundering beneath her breast and hoped to calm herself, as well as lull the child to sleep.

Sofdu lengi, sofdu rótt,
seint mun best ad vakna.

The humming became a soft poem. It was something she recalled her own mothing reciting, long ago.

Maedan kenna mun thér fljótt,
medan hallar degi skjótt.
Ad mennirnir elska, missa,

gráta og sakna.

Sighing softly, Sanja tucks herself around the child and feels a brief wave of calm.

bjarna listened closely.

although halfway through she was already drifting off in this familiar scene. she had fell asleep on mother bear once before and found herself wayward. that kind of thing did not cross her mind here.

mother bear seemed in a very good mood.

at the end of mother bear's humming, would be bjarna. snoring and slumbering against the ribs of the woman. paws occasionally twitched or an ear aimlessly flicked.

but she was no longer awake, far from it. her first fitless slumber in some time.