Worth

Wren

The rain hadn't stopped in fourteen days.

Usually, this wouldn't be a bad thing as the rich forest needed the added nutrients from the falling clouds. Yet, two weeks of nonstop precipitation was starting to drive Wren a bit mad.

Pacing back and forth between her small cabinet, her dark wooden table, she opened both small and large containers alike. In the center, near the back of her domicile a small fire lit the room. A mixture of the smell of rain, and the soft earthy tones of a crackling fire filled her nostrils as her quest for the perfect herbs continued. Moving over to open up yet another small drawer on the front of her aged cabinetry, a small smile crossed her lips.

"There you are." She whispered to herself as she took a small handful of herbs and placed them in her percolator. Her long braids reached down her back as she closed her eyes for another moment. Hopefully, her prayers to the ancestors will be heard, because answers were desperately needed. Being the healer of the clan, this was her responsibility to her people, giving them the guidance and advice needed to make their day to day lives easier and more fulfilling. As of late, nothing has been seen or heard in her minds eye, and the worry was starting to set in. After watching the water steep and steam escape she poured the fragrant mix into her cup and let it cool. The sweet , warm drink relaxed her long enough to let her thoughts to dwindle, so right about now was the perfect time to concoct her sweet escape.

As she closed her eyes, Wren opened her lips gently whispering and chanting her prayers out loud. Her father taught her this method, and the calming tone and rhythmic canter was something she sought after daily, maybe because her soul truly thought it worked, but also to return to her childhood routines that comforted her when all hope was about to be lost. The deep chocolate hair started to tickle her face a bit as the winds picked up speed outside and the storms rolled in a little heavier. She could hear the rain hammer down on her roof, and the whistle of a small opening in the door frame allowed the draft to enter in the room, cooling the small space. The flames danced a little more, flickering the flames up and around the fireplace. Had the dead heard her words as she spoke them? Is this finally working in her favor? Will an answer finally be given on why they would curse the land with all the unnecessary rain?

The near middle aged woman's words slowed a bit until no noise escaped her lips. She let her head hang as she stayed sitting in her creaking chair, perhaps a small meditation will help her intentions ring true in the eyes of her past loved ones. Being a healer, her responsibilities to her people never end. She was the one blamed for the heartache lately, at least that was what she had heard. If the fellow people thought that their words escaped her thoughts, and never dimmed her ego, they were wrong. Actually, they were wrong, because she still felt in her that she could prove to them that her birthright was no mistake. When her father passed over to the spiritual side six moons ago, she was the next in line as Healer. Not only was it horrible to the elders, to have lost a healer before it was time for him to go, but to be replaced by a female instead was almost worse. Their mistrust of women was their own problem.

Wren's eyes flew open after a few more moments of wishful thinking and a yearning for her father to help guide her. She sipped her tea like mixture with heavy and worrisome eyes. Had she been taught correctly how to seek out the messages from the other side? Had she missed the signs that she should have told the others to prepare for such a hard spring? She stood up and walked over to her shelves and ran her fingers along the books that she had been looking at for the last 30 or more summers. Her eyes dusted over the spines of the books she had been staring at since she was a child, and the nostalgic memories played over in her mind as she stared at them longing for one more lesson from her parents. If only she had paid more attention to their lessons as a youngling.