I Collect Red Stars

Winter

(December-march Year 1)
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Being loaded onto a boat, the scorched remains of the misfire still burning. Explosions go off all over the ruined settlement. It belongs to the raiders now. Grief.
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Watching the forest shrink as the distance between boat and shore is swallowed by water. Distress.
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Looking out over the ocean, bundled thickly in wool and fur. The air bites her nose. She grins and watches the waves. Giddiness.
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Clinging to the edge of the boat heaving as another wave of nausea strikes her harder than a tank. Discomfort.
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Teasing the people on board, pestering "boat guy" at the helm. Joy.
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Cowering below deck pretending to be in the woods- anywhere but here. No land- nothing just water- water everywhere it's awful. Fear.
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Laying on deck gazing up dreamily at the full uninterrupted view of the stars. One shoots by before her eye, like a wink from those dwelling there. Good tidings to come. Peace.
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Loss of appetite. Clouded memory. Muffled voices. Frustration.
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Breathing the brisk air, storms passing to the side not striking, content with their unsteady truce. Calm.
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Sobbing at how much she's lost control of her life. Mild comfort from friends. Which friends is unclear through the haze. Distance.
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Docking, faces blurring, so many people, voices, caravans, all directions- numb.
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The buzz of voices, a hub of activity, trees! Friends meeting after time apart, grievers mourning recent loss. Optimism.
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Where is Vasily?
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Exploring, new land, all foreign, all novel, merchants, carts, conversation. Excitement.
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Lost, confused, missing faces missing names, wrong... memory gaps, blurred thoughts. What day is it? Trepidation.
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"Have you seen Vasily?"
"Who the fuck is that."
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"I'm lost... please help me, the people from second crossing, where are they?"
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Hello?
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