Isolitary (old/unfinished)

Chapter Seven

Lyrin sat slumped against the wooden edge of a wagon, feeling more nauseous by the second as the wheels bumped up and down on the uneven paths. Dawn struck about five chimes of the clock before, and now, only slivers of sunlight shone through the snow-frosted pine trees as she rode through the hilly landscape. It was a harsh miracle there was any light with the thick clouds overhead.

Her eyelids drooped, her long, dark eyelashes brushing her cheeks repeatedly when she began to nod off. She struck her hands together and rubbed them to retain the warmth left in her body. Oh, it was cold. Convenient timing for a journey out of the city, she mused, and almost regretted leaving when she did.

There wasn't much for her to do on the ride to Verta--just look out the imaginary window of the wagon and reflect on life, to which she hardly did. The process of finding a merchant or trader--in this case, a trader--and asking to hitch a ride to a nearby city was not as grueling as she thought it would be, and in no time, she had done exactly that. Maybe it was the over-trusting townsfolk who guided her down the easiest path or the stars and saints above granting her luck. Not that she believed in such legends with no proof.

That was the problem with dreamers and optimists. They never knew if what they said was true, and even if there was some justification behind their delusions, why should anyone else partake in them? The errors adding up never ended.

A loud growling noise resonated through the air, and Lyrin realized in a quick moment that it was her stomach. Of course it was. Her last dinner at her house had passed with so much tension that she didn't urge herself to eat then, and she ate no dinner at the inn where she stayed the night before. Though it wasn't likely to have been the longest she'd gone without a meal, it still cut into her morale.

Lyrin gazed at the sacks of supplies gathered next to and in front of her, thrown about in no particular order. They were goods the trader brought to and from cities and farms, she knew, but with hunger eating away at her insides, she was tempted to grab an apple or piece of food from one of the bags. It wouldn't hurt his profits that bad, would it?

She looked towards the sky and resigned on eating that morning. If it was free enough in Verta, she could grab food there. The question was if she'd get there in time to do such a thing.

"Miss? Are you doing alright back there?" The voice of the trader steering the beasts at the front end of the wagon interrupted her thoughts, and she instinctively inclined herself to the words.

"I am fine, thank you. Shall we arrive soon?"

Lyrin listened as he whipped the backs of the creatures hauling the equipment and answered her, "Verta is just a whiles away, I'm certain. I'm stopping at a nearby farm to unpack everything, but I will be there for a time. Are you planning on staying with, or will you head out?"

She mentally groaned. How fortunate I must be, needing to walk the rest of the way to Verta in the freezing weather.

She took in a deep breath. "No, I will be heading out as soon as we arrive. I acknowledge your kindness, though, and I thank you for letting me travel with you."

"Of course. I know how difficult it is to find transportation through Rivé around this time of year. It is much too cold, and the ground is constantly frozen over whenever we begin our journeys. The sheipas always go through a struggle when we push them out here."

Lyrin turned to the man at the front of the wagon and raised her eyebrows, curiosity rising in her. "Is that what those wooly creatures are? I'm afraid I have not seen them all too often."

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the path before him, his thick fur hat bobbing. "Are you a city girl, then? Outside of the capital, they are seen frequently."