A New Friend (CH6)

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That morning, Rowena sprang up from her bed as soon as the seagulls began to sing their small sliding scales and pulled on some clothes out of her hastily packed portmanteau. A red dress, a small blue waistcoat, her usual stockings, and her boots. The braids of the day prior had stayed in but gave the impression that they were about to become undone at any moment. Rowena didn't care. She rushed out of the room to find Claira up and equally as raring to go.

"Good morning, Captain Ro, are you ready for an early morning adventure?" she asked, fists to her hips, the true picture of Farforthian hero.

Rowena gave an excited squeal of a giggle, "I was born ready! Where are we going?"

"To the small town over yonder. There's plenty of shops that sell all kinds of wonders. I shall take you to my favourite. But how do you expect to adventure without your bag?" She asked smugly, quickly sneaking something out of her pocket before putting her hands behind her back. She gave a very bad façade of nonchalance.

"My portmanteau?" the younger one of the children asked, "That is hardly the bag for adventuring. It belonged to my grandad Sander who was a very old and very unadventurous individual, according to my papa."

Without another word, Claira slowly brought her hand forwards. In it, was indeed a bag, made for the purpose of adventuring. It was made of crème netting, the sort found on fishing ships or ships in general, with little blue and pink beads intwined with the pattern. "I made it myself," she announced proudly, as Rowena took it, completely awestruck, "I even have a matching one! Shall we go? Tansy knows all about it."

"Oh yes!" Rowena exclaimed. She swung the new net bag round her shoulder and eagerly followed Claira out onto the sandy beach. The thought of Mr Maddaly had long gone. There was just the small rolling dunes that lead their way up to the shore, the wind picking up the sand in a sweeping motion aswell as brushing the tall reeds with it's mighty but gentle hands. Claira and Rowena scurried across until the sight of a few shops with old brick rooves came into view.

That was where Rowena caught sight of a dog, wrestling about in some crates in search of a morsel of food.

"Claira?" she piped up, beginning to tremble as she confessed.

"Yes?"

"May I tell you something?" She took a nervous glance around, "It's a secret, you mustn't tell a soul."

Claira's lively brow dipped for a moment as she grew serious. She placed a hand upon her heart. "You have sailor's word, Ro."

Rowena gulped as she stared back at the dog, wrestling, growling, jumping. "There's a wood back at home. I passed it on the way home from the market and my mother told me to not go into any forests and..." she got a moment to hesitated as the two climbed up some stone steps, "...I defied her..."

The other's mouth opened slightly but only managed to say, "Oh!" It was probably because she was expecting Rowena to have done something more deviant or adventurous and it made what she had done seem rather anticlimactic. "I mean that isn't so bad...why does this bother you so?"

"Well, I went in there to pick flowers for my scrapbook which is my pride and joy, and I saw the most beautiful rose I had ever seen. I wanted it and went to pick it, when an angry wolf attacked me out of the blue." She trembled, reliving it all in her head, over and over again, "It threatened me."

After she had said this, Claira looked her up and down. "Threatened you?" she reiterated, "But wolves can't speak."

"Well, they can, for I had a conversation with one," Rowena admitted, half proudly and half with shame, "I can't say I have ever been in close contact with one until now. Why? Do you think I am pulling your leg?" Regardless of what her friend's answer may be, she couldn't help but think she was slightly mad.

"No!" she exclaimed defensively, "I'm just shocked that is all. It's not every day that you hear someone come out with such a claim. But allow me to put your mind at ease, for we are about to enter the most exciting trinket shop in all of Kinellen." And with this, she led Rowena into a shop so quickly that she didn't have time to read its name.

Every shelf seemed to be packed with small treasures, each carved with such detail. There was an entire shelf dedicated to the sale of fairy sculptures which took Rowena's fancy. She liked how they were the colour of dirty ivory, painted by the hands of time. And yet it added to their beauty, and she reckoned their sculptor had to be a great artist, like what she aspired to be. The way they creating emotion must have meant they spent lots of time studying people's faces at the fishmonger's stall. "When you first came here, I just knew you would love this place!" Claira rejoiced as she nodded her acknowledgements to the shopkeeper.

However, Rowena was far too fascinated by the sculpted fairies to respond. All the bases had been inscribed with a name corresponding to a flower, though from their appearances there seemed to be no obvious links. There was a Geranium, a Marigold, a Foxglove, a Tulip, a Fern, and a Lavender, all staring directly at the two. "You may get one if you wish," Claira remarked after noticing how taken Rowena seemed to be by them, "I brought some gold with me."

"Thank you! I simply must show her to my parents..." She enthused before she realised she couldn't take them all home with her, "Which one do I choose?"

Claira pointed to the one named 'Lavender', "I think you'd get along well with this one. Careful with her, she is made of porcelain." Rowena handled Lavender carefully into her new bag after she had been paid for before they decided they were quite satisfied. Claira was somehow right though. She didn't know why or how, but she felt that she and Lavender had a kind of connection. A mutual understanding if you will. However she was careful not to speak this. She already felt mad enough.

They made their way down the stone steps, across the hills, down the rocks, along the sand, onto the harbour, up the wooden plank back to the boat. Something was different this time. It seemed colder, draughtier and the atmosphere hit both girls like a strong gale. Clouds were smeared with darkness as if some mighty god got bored with the lazy white sky and hastily scribbled over it with black where not even the brightness of the sun could persist. "Is a storm brewing already?" Rowena asked, gawking around.

The other sucked in a breath, "Must be...Though it does seem rather sudden...we'd better get home as quickly as possible." They both acted on this immediately, scurrying back to the boat as fast as their feet would carry them, hoping to outrun the thunder and the pelting rain that would soon follow.

The Hardrada wasn't safe enough.

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