Sira was sick.
This was typical of babes born towards summer's end, she was told. Their little, frail bodies were not built to accommodate the sharp changes in temperature as the sun and its heat sunk lower and lower into the sky for longer periods of times. Miserable from the dropping temperatures and rising fevers that tried to keep their bodies warm pre-winter babies cried and fussed and had to given even extra of an eye and more layers of wrapping.
Lakal had just gotten Sira to lie down to sleep, still red in the face from the combined efforts of both her crying and her fever, when the faint sound of drums floated into their tent. Tired to her very bones and beyond Lakal didn't pay any mind the sounds. She was only focused on the faint sounds of Sira's breathing as her own head came to rest on the table and her eyes began to flutter shut.
Sira would start to get better as winter came and got settled. The temperatures would fluctuate less and allow the body the time to adjust to the cold. Lakal would give winter another twelve turns of the sun before it below down from the high north. Close enough to give Sira relief to her ailments soon yet far away to enough to allow the hunting party to return, banging their drums -
"Drums!" she screamed into the air, jumping back from the table, awake in an instant. Any exhaustion left her body, replaced with the rapid beating of her heart and an influx of energy. She jumped into her boats and shoved her body into her coat.
"Sira, come!" she exclaimed, ripping the child rather unkindly from her cot. She began to cry almost immediately. Harsh screaming and Lakal hoisted her into the linen carrier and then bundle her into the layers of her coat.
"Hush, Sira. Father and Brother are home. We must go now."
It was dark outside. A light snow flurry was blocking the stars and moon. Uncaring to the weather conditions Lakal ran towards the fires burning in the village center. She held onto Sira tightly, careful not to bounce her around to much and upset her gentle stomach, but did not slow her pace. She was going to see the missing members of her family.
Most of the tribe had already gathered by the fires, having been asleep and woken by the drums unlike Lakal who had been falling asleep to them instead. All around persons were embracing. Smiles and kissed were exhanged along with tears. Tears of relief, tears of sorrow. Not once did Lakal stop to think that maybe her brother and father had been hurt during the journey. That they lay somewhere bleeding out into something that wasn't snow. But as she stopped, paused, and looked around the crowd for hers the thought creeped up the back of her mind like an ice snake.
"You look lonely, llitth Lakal."
Lakal could have cried right then and there but she know Twoa would tease her about it until they were both old and gray as the early morning light. Instead she turned and embraced him, careful for the child between them.
"Little no longer," she answered. "Come and meet your new little sister."
Lakal pulled the child, who had cried herself out, from within her coat and passed her over to her brother.
"She's a blessing."
"That is until her cries interrupt your sleep."
Lakal allowed her brother these few moments before she opened her mouth to speak again.
"Where is Father? I have news."
