Snowblind {complete}

Dry - Dig

They left modesty behind in the mud. Women hitched up skirts to tie around their midriff. Loose tunics stuck to bodies. On the valley slopes workers left their shoes.

All who could took part and toiled under the sun. If the thick, white slurry mixed with the local water, then the valley would be polluted for years, not a season.

The work proved gruelling, even for the Southerners. Lanna had never been so glad of her sturdy limbs and hard muscles. A tough body bred through generations of selection. She might be imperfect, but she remained strong.

Mud pulled at limbs, sapping strength and will with contact. Bodies of cattle and beloved family pets were lifted clear to make a sad pile on the valley side, the carcasses thrown onto a bonfire by grim men. But the task had to be done: festering corpses could sully drinking water.

Lanna hunched her shoulders as her nostrils caught the scent of burning flesh. Her mouth ran. Would they miss a flank? A few ribs? Snarling, she plunged her arms into the slurry. The thick white paste blended to grey. Faster – they needed to be faster.

'Fuck!' Beside her, Mika fell to her knees for the fifth time in half an hour. The girl glared at Lanna.

'Don't you dare!' she threatened, pointing a grey, dripping finger at Lanna. 'Do not tell me to rest.'

Lanna smirked and said nothing. She was five barrels of muck ahead of Mika. Workers made numerous friendly wagers to keep momentum, but no one would bet against her father. Alric's skin bore a sheen of sweat; he had long ago abandoned his tunic. The swirling tattoos of their clan wove over his shoulder blades, back and biceps – the marks of a gifted provider of food for family and kin. Lanna watched him straighten, a filled barrel under each arm, then he walked through the sucking mud as if he waded through a shallow stream.

His harsh words to her were forgiven if not forgotten. She returned to her task, but the mud felt cold, even for her, and stole the heat from her blood. Her body ran hotter to compensate, and sweat dripped from her nose and ran down the hollow of her back.

Another splash to her side and Lanna rolled her eyes. She reached out and pulled Mika to her feet, ignoring protests as she frowned down at her friend's chilled hand.

'You aren't used to the cold. My body is. Eat something and come back.'

Mika stuck out her tongue then sighed. 'You're right. I should be more mindful of my pride.' She pouted at Lanna then pulled her slight frame from the thick slurry. 'I'll bring you something,' she promised then waddled away, the mud slurping and slapping under her feet.

Lanna filled her barrel then lifted it onto her shoulder with a grunt. Her arms and shoulders already bore bruises from previous loads.

Shuffling to the edge of the valley, Lanna glanced at the surrounding landscape. They were about a quarter done. A miraculous achievement having only been at the task four hours.

Imperials weren't soft. They were as stubborn as the kelen that represented their nation: a bird of burden, fast, stout and still half-wild even after generations of domestication.

Finally, she reached the cart on the rutted old highway above the valley. The ox hitched to it huffed at her as she pushed her barrel onto the rough planks above the wheels. Mud covered the poor beast from head to hoof.

The Headman estimated half of the herd had been lost, a savage blow to the community though they hoped to find more alive in the coming days. The creatures were smart and had probably scattered during the earthshake. They would return when hungry.

The cart would take its load to the border, returning the slurry to where it had come from, far from people. A tired and listless man behind the reins thanked Lanna and flicked his crop. The wheels squeaked as the cart moved off, piled high with barrels, bowls and jars of white mud. Another cart would return within an hour. They would need to have the next load ready to transport.