Clouds

Mayra woke Finn from her daze sometime in the late morning. "We're about to cross a stream, so Riley's going to let Peach drink and graze a little while we take a little break. I confess I've been hogging the water skin today."

"Ok, help me down and then you can go ahead. I'll catch up," Finn could see from Mayra's uncomfortable shifting that she needed the 'little break' fairly urgently.

Mayra complied, helping Finn half-hop, half-slide off the back side of the cart and made sure she was steady on her crutch before rushing for the tree line. Finn smiled and followed behind at a hobbling pace to take care of her own needs.

She took a deep breath and tried to shake off the grogginess that seemed to weigh her head down. Was the air heavier? It felt humid, hot, and sticky today. The sun wasn't even at its highest point just yet. Rubbing her eyes with one hand, she continued in the direction Mayra had ventured. It had been stuffy in the cart as usual, but it seemed equally as stuffy out of it. Maybe moreso with the sun beating down.

Reaching the trees, the shade helped mitigate the heat somewhat. "Mayra? Where'd you go?"

"Over... over here." Mayra answered a little oddly. She stood on the other side of a tall tree, looking at the ground. Finn frowned as she moved closer. Coming around the side of the tree, she saw what had captured Mayra's attention.

A mound of freshly disturbed earth and mid-sized rocks formed a child-sized cairn at the base of the tree's trunk. On the tree itself, a single word was neatly, freshly carved.

"Abby"

"The little girl?" Mayra turned wet eyes toward Finn's face, hoping to find disagreement there.

"We haven't seen anyone else on the road since we left," Sighed Finn, holding back her own emotions. "I don't see who else it could be. The poor thing was already so limp--" She swallowed as a tear escaped. The ladies hugged for a moment of silent mourning for a child whose name they didn't know until she was already gone.

Mayra pulled away for a moment, returning with two stones. Handing one to Finn, they each added their contribution to the small cairn as a sign of respect.

"Girls?" Riley's voice came through the trees, "Everything ok?"

Mayra sniffled. "We're safe, but not quite ok," she responded truthfully, "Come see."

Riley came striding through the trees and stopped when he saw the little grave. "Oh." He didn't know what else to say. "Where... someone dug this. The Man from yesterday? Where did he go?"

"We're not sure," Finn responded, a little to both questions.

"Isn't that heartless, burying a child and then just leaving? Why didn't he stay to grieve?"

"Heartless??" Finn felt a fire rise into her eyes. "Are you the arbiter on how people should handle death? The expert on what others should do in the face of tragedy? What more could he do in this place? What purpose would be served with a show of grief in the wilderness?"

Riley backed away, holding his hands up in surrender. "Woah, woah, I'm sorry. Wow. Calm down." He grimaced after the last phrase escaped his mouth. His mother had taught him better than to say that to an angry woman.

Finn glared at him. "Let's just go. There's nothing to be done here." She began shuffling back toward the cart. Mayra walked beside her, throwing a look over her shoulder at Riley. With raised eyebrows and the sides of her mouth turned down, he couldn't quite tell if Mayra disapproved of his unguarded judgment of a stranger or Finn's outburst.

By way of repentance, he retrieved a stone of his own to add to the small grave and bowed his head briefly over it before joining the girls back at the cart. Finn had taken a position by the front bench, so he lifted her there instead of into the back. Mayra took up the position in the rear, her attitude quiet and melancholy.

Riley climbed up to his side of the bench and restarted their journey. He was shocked in his own way by the little grave they'd found. He expected to pass the body of that gelding that was being ridden so hard at some point, but not the child.

He sighed. Maybe he should be more sensitive. A child was more important than a horse, and as noble as horses were, he was sure the gelding would have given its life to have saved the little girl.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Said Finn timidly. Riley's head swung around to look at her. He hadn't expected an apology after he put his foot in his mouth.

Finn felt guilty for taking out her emotions on her traveling companion. She hated grief. Just try and live life as normally as possible. No dwelling, no wallowing, no potential of getting stuck in a depression so deep you could never get out again. No crushing darkness coming at night from all sides choking the joy and the life out of you. Just moving on... but that was hard to do that while staring at such a small grave. Loss always brought back the memory and wounds of old losses.

Where was Abby's mother? Did Abby have to grieve her own losses before being grieved? These questions swirled around Finn's heart before she shoved them to the side. This didn't affect her. Her life was no different from yesterday. Peach plodded onward, Finn's body ached, road passed by. She breathed in, then out. In, out. Moving forward, onward. Methodically, stoically.

Why had she felt the need to defend the stranger, if that's indeed who had buried the little girl? Was it because his movement onward was reminiscent of her own method of coping with loss? Or because Finn could see his handsome face contorted with sadness in her mind's eye? Regardless, Riley had not earned her anger.

"I forgive you. I really step in it sometimes and I didn't realize..." He didn't know how to finish the sentence. He still didn't understand what had happened other than he'd said something insensitive.

"It's fine. I'm a bit hungry. Is there anything to eat back there, Mayra?" She asked loudly so Mayra could hear over the bumps of the road.

"Sure, I was getting some stomach rumblings myself." Mayra constructed little sandwiches from sweet rolls, dried meat, and preserves. She handed one to each of the others and they all ate in silence for a while.

As they continued, the heat increased.

Though the sun was past its apex now, the temperature refused to fall. Finn began to sweat. The humidity had not let up at all since their break and even Peach tossed her head and whinnied as if walking had become onerous. The wind began to pick up and the traveling party tensed. As farming people, they all three knew how quickly weather could change. Though the sun was still shining behind them in the Western sky, dark clouds were forming ahead of them.

"I think we'd better look for a place to stop for the night," Riley knew the clouds could travel frighteningly quickly. The forest had thinned out somewhat during their meal, and the possibility of crossing into completely open plains just before a storm did not sit well with him. Better to find a relatively sheltered cluster of trees soon. While the humans could huddle inside the cart if worse came to worse, they still needed somewhere for Peach to take what cover could be managed.

They continued forward for a number of minutes, eyeing the clouds' approach and scanning for a good place to stop. They didn't want low ground that would flood easily. Perhaps the next rise would offer a more appealing location.

Finn's body began to ache more insistently, either by virtue of her anxiety, the changing weather, her injury, or some combination of the three. Her searching became more urgent as she leaned forward in her seat, squinting that she might see further or better.

The wind began to whirl unpredictably in gusts, pushing loose hair into her eyes. She tried to tuck her braid back into a presentable and functional form, but her curls could only remain contained in this weather for a very short time. Her thoughts and emotions seemed as volatile as the wind.

The clouds crept ever closer from the far horizon. She guessed that at best they had an hour before the storm arrived in full force. She briefly closed her eyes, willing it to hold off until they found a place. The sky steadily darkened, increasing the group's collective anxiety.

Peach neighed and tossed her head again, clearly nervous about the changing weather. To everyone's surprise, an answering neigh echoed from nearby.

To the right of the road about a hundred yards ahead, a copse of poplar trees towered together in close proximity. Peach called again and received the same response. A cloaked head emerged from the trees, obviously looking for the horse which had been conversing with his own.

"Hello!" called Riley in a friendly voice, recognizing that to get the best shelter would require some sharing. The trees were clustered perfectly for an ideal windbreak and had enough leafy coverage to keep the horses drier than they would be elsewhere.

Just then, a bolt of lightning and crack of thunder split the sky, throwing Peach into a full panic. She reared, destabilizing the cart. Finn fell to one side and landed on the footrest. As Riley struggled to maintain his place and stabilize the spooked horse, the cart shifted again and Finn was almost thrown entirely to the ground. She grasped wood tightly with one hand, earning a few splinters in her fingers. The horse's next thrash sent her forehead crashing into the seat.

The cloaked man came forward at a pace that was not quite a run, for fear of scaring Peach even more, but was nonetheless swift. Shushing and holding his hands forward in a soothing gesture, he removed his cloak and threw it over the horse's eyes as he grasped the bridle and pulled her head down. Slowly she calmed.

Riley breathed heavily. "Thank you, sir. You fine back there, May?"

"I'm fine!" She answered, a bit flustered, but not hurt.

Riley looked down to where his seating companion lay, "FINN!"

"I'm all right," Finn answered him before looking to the stranger. "Thank you Roland."

"How hard did you hit your head??" Riley asked. "I'm Riley. Ri-ley." His enunciation of his own name was colored by concern.

Lightning flashed again, showing the stranger's quizzical expression. "I believe the lady was talking to me. Please, bring your wagon into the trees. There is room for us all to wait out this gale, and I think we should tend to her bleeding." He gestured to the hem of Finn's skirt as lightning illuminated a slowly growing red stain.