(COMPLETED) Srarori Coreter lives off the coast of a dragon-filled land called Hereashana. When Srarori's cousin finds a half-starved girl from another land on the beach, Srarori decides to take the girl in. She eventually becomes best friends with...
"Whoof!" I said. "Feels good, doesn't it?" "Yeah." Hena said. I took a sip of the tea. The warmth spread down my throat and rushed to my toes, filling my body with the most wonderful sensation. I took the braid out of my hair and let it flow around me. Before I knew it, I was asleep.
I suddenly was woken up by a cold splash on my leg: The tea, by now icy, had toppled over. Hena was sitting on a nearby rock. She was holding a tiny knife and a piece of birch. She was carving the birch in a pattern I could not see. But by the way she was intensely scrutinizing it and constantly brushing it off, I could tell she was working extremely hard. She now was wearing a pair of loose cotton pants and a purple sleeveless shirt. I remembered that my own clothes were still wet, so I went into the house and changed. Then I went over to Hena, looked at her carving, and was astonished by what I saw.
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"Whoa! Where did you learn to carve like that?" I said. "My papa." Hena said. "He used to market his carvings. I've been whittling since I was seven." "Hena," I said, "you know about wood then, right?" Hena shrugged. "Because I need a new axe handle. Do you know what kind of wood I should use?" "What kind do you normally use?" "Oak. It breaks in two seconds." "Use ironwood. Oak isn't nearly as strong." Ironwood. What an awesome name. Sounded like my kind of wood. I felt myself smiling. "Where can I get that?" I said. "Not around here. Maybe in that Utiiq forest. It grows in deep woods." "Thanks. I'll try it." We sat in silence. "Hena?" I said after a long while. "Yeah?" Hena asked, looking up from her carving. "You asked me if I fancied being with Arvern." "Yeah." I could see her turning pink. "Do you feel that way about someone back where you live?" "Ummm...yes." "You don't need to tell me who, but I'd like to know." "Oh, his name is Weston. He has black eyes, brown hair, and he's kind of tall." "Have you spent time with him? Are you friends?" "Yeah, definitely." "Uh-huh." "Oh, Srarori!" Hena said. "What is it?" I said. "Tielle never talked about romancey things with me!" I smiled. "Aranee never played music with me," I said. "And..." I thought of Arvern's smile, his kind hazel eyes... "Yeah?" Hena said. "I do." I said. "What?" "Fancy Arvern."
Author's note: I am entirely American. I used the word "fancy" because I didn't know how to say it in that way without sounding modern, whereas this story takes place in the Dark Ages.
