Aoife = pronounced EE-fa. Irish. Means "beauty"
"Slow down, Declan! It's impossible for me to catch you!" I laughed as I chased my younger brother around our little campsite. Winter was here, which meant everything was covered in a thick blanket of white. Most people complain of the snow, but I don't mind it. Setting the blizzards aside, there's much fun to be had, such as building snow figures, making snow angels, and of course--
A snowball hit me in the back of the head. The snowball fights. I whipped around to see my older brother, Ronan, smirking. Oh, was he going to get it now! I crouched down and gathered some snow up in my gloves. I shaped it into a ball and chucked it right at him, but he dodged it last-minute. Another snowball hit me on the side. I turned to see Declan, smiling innocently when for a fact he wasn't innocent at all.
"Snowball fight!" Ronan exclaimed, and a few other children of the people in our "camp" joined in. We all hastily began to make snowballs for ourselves and threw them at each other like mad. I was wet all over and shivering because I was hit the most, but I didn't mind it because of how much fun I was having.
"Aoife! Your coat!" Mother called from one of the tents as she held up my coat. I groaned. That coat was scratchy and an ugly color of red as well.
"Foolish girl! You'll catch your death without your coat!" Mother scolded when she felt my wet sleeve. I sighed and complied.
"Ronan, Aoife! Look, father's back!" Declan exclaimed as he pointed towards a group of men emerging from the woods and heading towards the camp, with two white stallions. Ronan, Declan and I ran for them but stopped when we saw new people with them. It was a woman in a big, blue dress and faun brown hair. Beside her was a boy, maybe my age, clinging to the woman's side. Most likely her son. Father said something to one of the men and nodded towards the mother and son before they were lead away and he came towards us with a big, brown bag.
"My children!" He exclaimed, a growing smile on his face. We all laughed and ran for him, throwing our arms around him.
"I have gifts!" Our eyes all lit up at that. Father was the leader of our "caravan". Well, it's not really a caravan. It's more like a gang of thieves. Father leads a band of men to look for people with a higher status than us so they can rob them. He takes most of what is theirs so he and others can provide for us. I've never gotten to go with him, and it's boring staying in the camp sometimes.
"What did you get us, father?" Declan asked with wide eyes. Father chuckled and knelt down. We gathered around him as he opened up his giant satchel.
"For Declan, a horse," he beamed as he took out a small horse toy. His eyes lit up as he threw his arms around father and gingerly took the toy from him. Next was Ronan.
"For you, Ronan, a weapon...don't tell your mother." He produced a dagger with a sheath and hilt of beautifully intricate designs. When Ronan unsheathed it, the blade glimmered like glass in the sunlight.
"Thank you, father!" He exclaimed as he hid it beneath his cape. Father finally turned to me.
"My beautiful Aoife, for you I have possibly the greatest gift of all. You'll no longer need that coat," He exclaimed as he fished out a big, blue cloak similar to the color of the dress the woman was wearing. I wanted to feel elegant in it, but I couldn't help but feel a small pang of guilt.
"Father, who was the woman and child?" I asked curiously. Father's grin faded. He stood up and called for Declan, and he came running over.
"I'm sure you three have seen the mother and her son walk into camp with the other men and the horses, correct?" We all nodded.
