The memory flickers and swirls around you. First, there is a woman, though her face is...blurred. There's a feeling of love around her though. Of bitter-sweetness. The memory becomes more solid and you and a little girl are having a snowball fight in the village, laughing and having a good time. That is, until ash starts to fall from the sky. Black snow. You and the little girl look up at it, concern on your features. Even at your young ages, you know exactly what that means.
"I'm going to find mom," she says, running off towards your family tent.
You run the other way, looking for your father. For the other men. To protect the village. Huge metal ships come crashing into the ice near the village, men leaping out, fire coming from their hands. You know what this is, you've seen it, all your people have seen it. It's why your village, your tribe is so small now. It's a raid.
You watch the warriors of the tribe battle, and when one of the raiders gets thrown into the snowdrift you're next to, you slam a snowball down on his head. It's not much, but to you, it is a little victory. A stand. You hop over him, picking up a bladed boomerang on the snow. Your father's.
...The raiders suddenly leave. It's strange. You're used to them rounding up people, taking them away. But they have no one. They just...go. You feel relief. Confusion, yes, but for the most part relief. Which turns into a heavy feeling of guilt- as the memory fades away without any more explanation.
no subject
[Well. That one is. Too bad, Riona. ]
The memory flickers and swirls around you. First, there is a woman, though her face is...blurred. There's a feeling of love around her though. Of bitter-sweetness. The memory becomes more solid and you and a little girl are having a snowball fight in the village, laughing and having a good time. That is, until ash starts to fall from the sky. Black snow. You and the little girl look up at it, concern on your features. Even at your young ages, you know exactly what that means.
"I'm going to find mom," she says, running off towards your family tent.
You run the other way, looking for your father. For the other men. To protect the village. Huge metal ships come crashing into the ice near the village, men leaping out, fire coming from their hands. You know what this is, you've seen it, all your people have seen it. It's why your village, your tribe is so small now. It's a raid.
You watch the warriors of the tribe battle, and when one of the raiders gets thrown into the snowdrift you're next to, you slam a snowball down on his head. It's not much, but to you, it is a little victory. A stand. You hop over him, picking up a bladed boomerang on the snow. Your father's.
...The raiders suddenly leave. It's strange. You're used to them rounding up people, taking them away. But they have no one. They just...go. You feel relief. Confusion, yes, but for the most part relief. Which turns into a heavy feeling of guilt- as the memory fades away without any more explanation.