rainywrites
Rainy writes but dislikes fights
jimcube27
They’d been hearing warnings for weeks. And sure, they got these messages from time to time. The government hated them, just like everybody else. The first rule of being a changeling was something every baby learned from the moment they were born in their animal form. Humans would never love you. Which meant the only people changelings had were each other, through and through. They bonded fiercely to themselves and to the land they were forced onto. Each reservation having its own way of life, although they all relied on the land for everything. There was a lake in Raven’s forest. They got fish from it, made lean-tos and Tepees from logs and twigs, mud and moss, and made clothing from pelts and whatever they could find. It was a simple life, cut off entirely from the world, but hey. The world hated them. And this land was their world. Everyone called everyone cousin, and they lived in quiet, unassuming peace.
then, a few weeks ago, the letters had started coming. Raven was amongst the many who hadn’t been taught to read, but she’d heard of their contents. Find another reserve or die. move or be moved. Yeah, right. The next reserve was hundreds of miles in any direction. They couldn’t impose on such a different way of life. and anyway, it wasn't like they could just pick up and travel somewhere else. they wouldn't be used to the weather, the area, or the traditions. they might not even speak the same dialect as the new tribe. they were only half-fluent in human as it was.
they'd laughed it off, deciding some eco friendly environmentalist humans would probably want to save the forest anyway. no need to worry, but stay away from the edges of their territory. the children, like Raven, had been told not to worry a thousand times. and Raven... she believed them. it was easy to believe that. she wanted to, and besides. their society had been in this forest for generations. not even the mean humans could make them move for anything. They stood tall like willows, unshakable in the breeze.
Raven had woke up early in the morning. the day was young, but something inside the small bird-girl knew that it was the next day. she'd woken up curled around her big sister-figure in their hut. Meadow was a great girl, but Raven knew at this point to never wake the bird-girl. she didn't like being woken up. some would say she was a night howler to Raven's early bird.
regardless, Raven knew to leave her alone.
she figured she could do something fun, something good for Meadow. she could pick berries as a surprise! Salmon berries were in season, weren't they? she knew they were, and those were just delicious. so she ran to the great patch, just a bit inward from the edge of their turf. she knew it was safe. after all, there were strict rules, twice the sightline from the edge of turf was the limits that children were allowed to go alone. there was no reason anyone would be here.
and besides, it might be a bit before dawn, sure. but this was the best salmonberries in the forest. and she was far too small to ever be considered a threat.
They’d been hearing warnings for weeks. And sure, they got these messages from time to time. The government hated them, just like everybody else. The first rule of being a changeling was something every baby learned from the moment they were born in their animal form. Humans would never love you. Which meant the only people changelings had were each other, through and through. They bonded fiercely to themselves and to the land they were forced onto. Each reservation having its own way of life, although they all relied on the land for everything. There was a lake in Raven’s forest. They got fish from it, made lean-tos and Tepees from logs and twigs, mud and moss, and made clothing from pelts and whatever they could find. It was a simple life, cut off entirely from the world, but hey. The world hated them. And this land was their world. Everyone called everyone cousin, and they lived in quiet, unassuming peace.
then, a few weeks ago, the letters had started coming. Raven was amongst the many who hadn’t been taught to read, but she’d heard of their contents. Find another reserve or die. move or be moved. Yeah, right. The next reserve was hundreds of miles in any direction. They couldn’t impose on such a different way of life. and anyway, it wasn't like they could just pick up and travel somewhere else. they wouldn't be used to the weather, the area, or the traditions. they might not even speak the same dialect as the new tribe. they were only half-fluent in human as it was.
they'd laughed it off, deciding some eco friendly environmentalist humans would probably want to save the forest anyway. no need to worry, but stay away from the edges of their territory. the children, like Raven, had been told not to worry a thousand times. and Raven... she believed them. it was easy to believe that. she wanted to, and besides. their society had been in this forest for generations. not even the mean humans could make them move for anything. They stood tall like willows, unshakable in the breeze.
Raven had woke up early in the morning. the day was young, but something inside the small bird-girl knew that it was the next day. she'd woken up curled around her big sister-figure in their hut. Meadow was a great girl, but Raven knew at this point to never wake the bird-girl. she didn't like being woken up. some would say she was a night howler to Raven's early bird.
regardless, Raven knew to leave her alone.
she figured she could do something fun, something good for Meadow. she could pick berries as a surprise! Salmon berries were in season, weren't they? she knew they were, and those were just delicious. so she ran to the great patch, just a bit inward from the edge of their turf. she knew it was safe. after all, there were strict rules, twice the sightline from the edge of turf was the limits that children were allowed to go alone. there was no reason anyone would be here.
and besides, it might be a bit before dawn, sure. but this was the best salmonberries in the forest. and she was far too small to ever be considered a threat.