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Chapter Text

Birdsong. The first beams of sunlight creeped through a canopy of leaves that towered high above. A warm breeze promised a scorching day. The dried creek with only a few small puddles remaining was home to a handful of frogs who stood like gargoyles waiting to surprise unsuspecting prey. Insects leapt and scurried around in the stalks of grass along the dew lined branches and over a deliberate canopy of moss lifted from a nearby rock. 

Nella stretched in her bunk. She didn’t want to get up. Her aching bones and muscles had been overworked and complaining louder with each passing day. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it was a frustrating one. She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the moss canopy she’d created the night before. The roots, minute and fragile, curled like frayed ribbon above her. Their protection and disguise was a saving grace, especially with so many early mornings recently. 

No one’s going to get this thing packed up. If I’m going to get water and something to eat today, I need to get a move on. I’ve already slept in too much. 

Her silent scolding did the trick. She pushed herself up and lifted the plastic snack bag opening that kept her shielded from the elements, careful not to knock the paperclip she used to prop up the opening, and slipped out into the roots that helped form her canopy. She pulled the elastic band from her wrist and held it in her teeth as she wrestled her hair into a braid. It took a moment to fight the tangles and the wiry sprigs that were once silky smooth. The strands alternated more obviously now. Brown-blonde. Gray. Brown-blonde. Brown-blonde. Gray. Gray. 

Brief calisthenics and some stretches shook the last of the sleep from her body as her eyes yearned for the bliss of sleep. She tugged on her pants, threw on a shirt, and slipped her feet into her shoes, lacing them up tight with the thread she’d acquired recently, and rummaged in her pack for some semblance of breakfast. She had some left over maple seeds, a bit of cricket, and a fragment of cracker that had seen better days. 

Can’t go too much longer without getting some more food, and water is starting to get scarce. Probably should head to the lake. 

Moving was usually a worst case scenario, but not for this Borrower. For her, it was life. It was adventure. It was a chore back in the day and even more so now, but Nella wasn’t about to change her ways just because she was feeling a bit achy this morning. She huffed a sigh and began chewing on the dried cricket and stretched as tall as her proud four inches would allow before beginning to pack up her humble campsite. 

She replaced the moss canopy back onto the rock, carrying what little water was nearby to help the moss grow once more, and rolled the snack bag carefully to prevent it from getting holes. A hammock of knotted yarn held up by rusted paper clips came next, the ends carefully bent and covered by the yarn. Bottle caps and foil secured back in her pocket backpack, she harvested the charcoal from the fire she’d set the night before. 

Finally, the journey began. 

She tracked downstream, following closely along the rocks in search of signs of useful life, and continued to chew on the remnants of her dried cricket. The sun continued to bake the air, and not even the trees could provide ample cover from the heat. Still, Nella trekked onward. Her mouse-skin boots pattered softly on the stone, leaving no trace of her existence. Each rustle in the undergrowth had her pause momentarily. Years of training heightened senses living in the outdoors, but it didn’t mean she could ever let her guard down. 

One rustle might be a leaping frog or a cricket who had miscalculated a jump. A harsh bark from above could be a squirrel or a small dog charging through the underbrush coughing up a part of a stick it ingested. A slither. A snap. A gust of wind rustling the leaves high above. Everything meant something, and a judgment call of running or freezing had to be made in an instant. 

Survival was an act of a perfect blend between sheer will and an insane amount of luck. 

As a Borrower, that luck was a necessity. While Nella believed that luck could be made with careful decision making and years of experience, she never left anything to chance. 

Always pack light. 

Err on the side of caution. 

If something is going to go wrong, it is. 

Stick to the Borrower rules no matter what. 

And…

Never ever ever ever get attached. 

Don’t get attached to anything. 

Don’t get attached to anyone. 

Things just worked out better that way. 

It took a minute, but soon the rustle in the undergrowth revealed itself to be nothing more than a simple salamander darting around in the low hanging blades of grass. The miniscule sigh of relief was appreciated as the tension relieved itself in her body, but she couldn’t stop now. As she walked, she attempted to keep an eye out for anything useful that she could manage to bring with her. It was a bold game though. Each thing she added to her pack, the more it would weigh. More weight meant more energy to carry. More energy to carry meant more things she’d need to borrow and harvest to keep herself functional. 

There was a fine balance, and the intensity of the warm weather meant there was a small margin of error. Nella attempted to ignore some of the other borrowings she found along the way that might be useful. A bit of plastic, which she kept. A bottle cap lid, which she left. A soda can, which she left despite the desire to pull off the pull tab for various useful implements. Acorn cap, which she left. Mushroom, which she snagged. Dandelion, which she actually stopped to dig up part of the root and harvest the greens and the flower on the top. 

Nella felt a bit exhausted after her play in the dirt and suddenly debated her decision to sacrifice time and energy for a single dandelion. She glanced at her canteen on the side of her pack and saw she was nearing the end of the water droplets. 

Ration carefully, Nella. You’ve got a little way further, and who knows if it’ll even be there. 

Daring to take a swig from her water canteen, a borrowed oil container that was in the shape of a small fish, she continued down further along the path until she spotted the thing she was looking for. 

The pond. 

Years of venturing created a rough map in her head and, though slightly depleted because of the recent heat wave and lack of rainfall, she still knew where everything should be. Pack wearing a moist sweat spot on her back, she trudged on with her boots feeling heavier with each step as she approached the roots that looked close to the water without being too moist to sink into the mud and get stuck, and just in time.  

The heat was tangible in the air. Each breath seemed to bring in moisture before it was robbed from the body. Nella knew it was a dangerous environment to be working and walking in without significantly more water than she currently possessed, but that was all about to change. The experienced Borrower ducked into the shade of the moist roots and immediately began to feel relief. Again, she took another swig from her canteen. 

I need to either make some more charcoal or be ready to sit and boil what I need and then some. 

She quickly shed her pack and took only a few essentials, primarily her pin and side satchel, and carefully observed the exterior of the pond. The water looked shallow and easily wadable, but that meant the mud and silt would be twice as sicky. Careful around that and can’t fall in. The sound of frogs were all around. Good eating. She inhaled deeply. Normal scents. Not deep enough for critters to be territorial about it, but deep enough to be home to those bug-eyed amphibians. 

The Borrower stepped with precision on the patches of moss and grass as she approached the pond. The subtle sound of squishing underfoot told her more about the ground than could be expressed in words. The sun beat down on small segments of the pond, but this was a matter of survival, not a pleasure trip to someplace pretty. Nella bounced from patch to patch like a skipping stone, mimicking the movement of a frog out of sheer habit in case there were any humans nearby. 

One hop. Two. Bounce. 

There. 

Nella smiled to herself as she leaned against some of the exposed roots that led into the pond and spotted the thing she’d hoped was here. Fish. More specifically, the tiny minnows that were often too small to any human to bother with; but, for a Borrower, it was a magnificent meal as long as the water was clean. 

Nella didn’t bother moving quickly back to her makeshift base. There was too much to do and it was a poor use of energy if she tried to rush. She had enough for the moment, and moving quicker was only going to use more resources. As she’d done so many times before, the Borrower set up her campsite with her hammock in the roots by the water along with her plastic bag bed. She hung her pack on some of the overhanging roots and removed some of her essentials. 

One spear. Three hooks, two makeshift and one true hook. The plastic she’d borrowed from the water. Her water canteen. A metal cap. One match. Used pull tab, which she regretted not borrowing from the previous one she’d found. All the lines she dared to carry with her. 

She began with setting up each of the lines against the roots so she could get to working on catching her some dinner. With a heavy heart, she sacrificed some of her last dried cricket to bait the lines and set to work on getting some more bait, digging in the dirt with her pull tab until, finally, she found what she was looking for. The slimy body of a worm emerged from the ground and began wriggling to free itself as Nella dragged it from the safety of the earth. 

The pang of sadness was momentary as she sliced it up using her makeshift shovel to make more reasonable pieces to bait her lines. Each segment was carefully set to the side so it wouldn’t squirm away before the Borrower set back to her major task - collecting water. 

Taking care with her piece of plastic, she balanced precariously on a low root and dipped water into the metal bottle cap and arranged the area in a precise, methodical way. Space below for the fire. Bottle cap next. Plastic cap above that. Plastic covering on the top in a kind of weighted canopy. It was a trick she’d learned from her mom, who learned it from her grandfather and so on and so forth. It would gather the clean water down below and give her plenty to drink from for the next few days. 

It took a few hours and a few false catches, but finally the Borrower woman managed to snag three decent sized minnows which she descaled, deboned, and began cooking over the water boiling fire she’d set by the water to keep it from spreading. 

The long hours of the afternoon soon gave way to the subtle suffocating heat of the evening, which eventually began to subsite as the fireflies danced in the trees and grass all around. The Borrower woman had long ventured back to her campsite and was enjoying a meal of fish and boiled mushroom as she watched the sun casting longer and darker shadows on the forest she’d called home for years. The sounds of the frogs and crickets intensified, making her more grateful by the moment she’d found an ideal place to sleep for the evening by the roots of the trees. 

Stepping out and stretching tall, she pulled down her hair and shook it out as she inhaled deeply. A trained nose out in the wilderness with a single breath could read the days to come with ease, and Nella had hers honed to a science. Though the mugginess of the air was sweltering, there was the promise of a storm on the horizon. Maybe not in the next two days, but there was undoubtedly going to be a storm in the next few days. A big one. There was a hazy circle around the moon and the humid days meant she needed to prepare and hit the high ground sooner than later. 

She inhaled deeply again, this time picking up something that set the Borrower’s senses on edge. There was something charged in the air that she couldn’t quite place. Not quite lightning. Not quite danger. Change? Unease? Tension that was not her own? 

Whatever it was, Nella wanted no part of it. She’d made it an art to stay clear of anything that didn’t immediately involve her survival. For all she knew, this was some tension involving nearby humans in the park that she knew was nearby. 

She stretched again and retreated to her hammock once more, slipping out of her shoes and hanging them up so they wouldn’t be soiled before slipping into the snack bag and propping open the zipper so the cool breeze could sooth her to sleep. 

All in all, she had found equilibrium. 

It was all she needed.

It was all she wanted. 

What more could there be?

Chapter Text

Another muggy morning met the older Borrower woman as she pried her eyes open from within her hammocked sandwich bag tent. Even the coolness from under the roots wasn’t going to be enough to stave off heat exhaustion and the extreme need for water. Exhaustion plagued her muscles once again, but she expected little else after all the work she did yesterday not only to migrate from her previous campsite but also her fishing and water harvesting. Lazily, she rolled over onto her back and stared at the distorted image of the roots above her through the crumpled plastic bag. 

I’m getting too old to stay out here in this infernal heat. 

But thinking like that could only spell trouble. She knew it. Every Borrower knew it. You either fought through the discomfort and last as long as you could or give up the ghost now. The world was a harsh place and sitting around moping about aches and pains that came with age and exercise wasn’t productive. It wasn’t practical. 

There was always the option of relying on someone else, usually a child or spouse, to get through those hard times, but nothing like that was going to happen. Not to Nella. 

Not that she wanted it. 

Maybe in another life at another time she might’ve considered this possibility, but not in this one. 

Relationships were complicated. It involved courting and talking and time that could be better spent borrowing or gathering supplies. Time was a precious commodity. Why spend it getting to know some stranger in the hopes they like you and you like them? Things were so temporary and fragile in the world of a Borrower. A simple borrowing mission could lead to someone not coming home. A moment of hesitation could lead to you being seen, meaning the dread and danger of going out into the world to get to someplace new was unavoidable. 

Sickness.

Starvation. 

Dehydration.

Physical injury. 

There were more important things to worry about than relationships. 

Nella knew this all too well. She also knew that lying there wasn’t going to get the day started. With one final stretch, she began her day as she’d done all her life. 

Stretch. Boots. Secure the tent. Clothes. Water. Breakfast. Gather supplies for fresh water dehydration. Sharpen weapons. Hunt and fish after restringing the lines. Rest in the shade. Drink water. Venture about for borrowings. Adjust traps and lines. Return and prepare for bed. 

At least, that’s what she would’ve done, but one major problem immediately halted her plans for the day and sent her into mental overdrive. As she approached the pond she’d been at just the day before, Nella noticed an odd odor in the air. There was a mix of something foul along with something bitter that made her nose crinkle. It got harsher the closer she got to the pond, and she soon saw the reason why. 

A dead rat lay submerged in the water, its eyes glassy and foam emerging from its mouth. No doubt it had been poisoned and had crawled here to die only to pass out and either drown in the water or succumb to the poison. The wet fur was undisturbed, but undoubtedly something would come along and snatch up this critter and deal with those consequences or leave it, listening to its senses, and let this oasis in the forest for minnows and frogs go by the wayside. 

Frustration seized Nella. She threw down her line and supplies she’d hauled out to the pond and glared at the deceased rodent. It was unnecessarily spent energy to haul everything over here, regardless of how close she had made her camp. The older Borrower huffed and tugged at the end of her braid as she debated her immediate options. None of them were optimal, but she knew she needed to move on. 

Something dead brought things that ate little things - including Borrowers. Staying would put her in danger from all those other creatures. There was also no salvaging the water supply. Whether it was because of poison or decay, both presented dangers that were too great to risk. Nella remembered the one time she’d accidentally drank water with a poisoned mouse in it and, needless to say, her own health suffered. 

It wasn’t worth the risk. 

Snatching up her borrowings and supplies, she hopped up and across that moss and patches of grass to once again pack up her area. The hope was to stay for a couple days and climb one of the nearby trees in time for the storm she was anticipating, but the risk was too great. Rather than dwell, Nella sighed and began deconstructing her tent. Same pattern as before. Fold up the bag. Secure the hammock. Condense all perishable items and balance everything inside of the bag for optimal carrying weight. Say goodbye to a decent spot in search of someplace new. 

Nella was tempted to follow the creek further down the trail, but she suspected the contamination would continue to spread until there was a gap in the connection of water. The area was usually scattered with ponds and places to fill her water canteen, but the scorching weather recently had annihilated the close oasis places she was familiar with. The Borrower reached up and scratched the back of her neck, tugging a few times on her earlobe as each option that came to mind was nixed based on the other factors Nella was familiar with. 

There’s no good way around it. I need to go to the lake. Curses! 

Nella knew there was a large lake in the park near the woods that she often stayed near during the autumn months simply because it was a reliable source of water. She didn’t like it very much simply because every other creature also thought it was a reliable source of water. Not only that, but humans were often nearby the area, and the last thing she wanted was to have to be aware of, especially kids. Human kids were unpredictable and noisy and smelly. They were curious and clumsy. The only benefit was that they scared away all larger creatures that presented a problem to Borrowers. 

I didn’t want to go ahead and start staying by the lake, but there’s little else to do unless the rain comes in the next few hours. 

Nella briefly considered making the trek all the way to the community, but shook that thought away. She prided herself in surviving out on her own and being around so many Borrowers consistently forced tedious social interaction. The option was clear and the path straightforward. 

Onward. 

Nella fastened her pack to her back and once again set off, getting her baring from the sun and the position of the trees. She cursed herself for moving in the middle of the day, but she’d made the mistake of believing she had more than a single day here at the little oasis she’d found in the creek. It was a rookie error. Nothing was ever certain. 

Each minute that passed made her throat feel like crusting mud, momentarily moist only to dry with each breath. Precious water turned to perspiration and made her back and arms sticky and gritty as her pores secreted salt and other precious things that Nella wished she could keep in her body. Each foot began to drag. Eyes began to twitch from being squinted for so long. The sun beat down relentlessly through the leaves of the trees. Each patch of shade became coveted. 

As she maneuvered around one of the nearby trees, she noticed something that caught her eye. It was pressed into the dirt near some roots. Usually, she would ignore something like this, but something compelled her to inch forward and push the grass away to pick up the trinket she’d found. 

It was a wooden button. It fit perfectly in her hands and was light in color, but what really caught her eye was the small carving on the front. The design looked like layered mountains capped with snow. The design was rough and looked hand carved. Though she’d seen more intricate and better done designs, something about this one was, in a word, endearing. It went against her better judgment and years of experience, but she figured she could use a new button on her pack to help seal up the sides. With the button secured, Nella readjusted her pack and began following along the edge of the park wood line toward the lake. 

Not far now. Just a little further. 

It was late in the day now. The sun was beginning to set, elongating the shadows of the trees and grass around her. It took a few detours to avoid being seen, but she was finally on the brink of arriving at her destination. The Borrower woman ducked under some nearby ferns, the fronds slightly crunchy to the touch, and balanced across a few twisted roots over some suspicious looking mud. Over. Under. Around. Nella pressed on until, finally, she found the pile of rocks and the drain pipe under them that led to the lake. 

The tunnel yawned before her like a gaping mouth, the light barely visible at the far end of the tunnel. She didn’t hesitate though. Despite the area sometimes flooding or being home to nasty spiders or other oozy creatures, Nella saw the ground was bone dry and that the tunnel was clear. Still, her confidence didn’t override her precaution and she kept her hand on her rusty sewing pin as she climbed down into the gutter and began walking down the length of the black plastic tunnel. 

The faint echo of her mouse leather shoes padded softly against the earth. The occasional squelch underfoot made her shudder, but the coolness of the tunnel and reprieve from the sun’s head was well worth enduring the disgusting sounds of moist earth. The tunnel’s light expanded wider and wider until, once more, Nella stood in the blinding sunlight at the edge of the overflow drain. 

Down below, ripples and waves of the lake lapped at the edge of the banks. Cattails bobbed in the nonexistent breeze. Distant splashes from a sourceless jolting fish told Nella the humans must’ve either restocked the lake recently or that they were feeling frisky with the bobbing bugs on the surface. Either way, she was glad she was confined to the shallows. Swimming wasn’t her strong suit, but at least she could do it and never in deep water. Creatures out in the murky depths were far too eager to snatch whatever they saw silhouetted on the surface. 

Down the rocks, bouncing and lowering with precision and care, Nella finally reached the bottom and began scanning the nearby areas. It was out of sheer habit for her to look around and evaluate her surroundings. At first, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, but as she neared the water something else caught her eye. 

A torn bag. 

It wasn’t a human’s bag either. 

It was a Borrower’s bag. 

Instantly, she laid her hand on her pin and crouched, shuffling over to some nearby ferns and hiding at the base of the stalk where she began scanning for anything or anyone nearby. Her own pack was slipped off her back while she kept eye-contact with the heap of fabric. All other senses dulled as she focused on her hearing. Any little snap, slither, or shuffle was going to be picked up. 

One minute. Maybe two. Other than the normal sounds of crickets and standard skitterings of creatures in the undergrowth, there was nothing nearby that hinted at what happened to the original owner of the pack. Nella’s decision came from curiosity and her desire to survive. If there was water or something else like food in the pack, it could help her as she prepared to make camp for the quickly approaching night. 

She approached the bag cautiously, paying attention to the straps and the way it was crumpled. Nella didn’t want to believe that Borrowers would set traps for one another, but then she’d be lying to herself. Living outdoors was untamed and raw, sometimes forcing or even inviting despicable behavior from even their own kind. Those cases were few and far between, but she wasn’t about to risk it. 

But, the true story revealed itself as she reached out and poked at the bag, flipping it onto its side to reveal a massive blood stain. Her heart sank with an untouchable pang she’d been familiar with all her life. This much could only mean one thing, and the tear marks only added to this Borrower’s demise. If Nella had to venture a guess, she figured this was the result of a bird attack. The clean puncture mark going from the back to the front was the perfect size for a talon or claw. 

I’m sorry. No one deserves to go out like that. 

Nella brought the tattered cloth back to her pack and rummaged through what little was in there. Another thumbtack. A fragment of bread, soaked with blood. Some red thread still on one of the miniature spools that humans liked using for whatever reason, not that she was about to complain. Finally, one snapped match stick, strike igniting. 

They either weren’t prepared to be out here or they have an established home nearby and were just going out for a little bit and got snatched by a bird. I don’t know which I’d rather believe. 

Nella sighed and placed the bag and the items in front of her before bowing her head. 

Look after the soul who this belonged to. They’re probably dead, but if not don’t let them suffer. Give them strength if they’re alive and peace if they’re gone. 

With that, Nella precariously attached the bag to her own, secured the borrowings, and continued through the ferns and bramble. Solemness settled over her, putting her mind in a fog; that, or the dehydration was starting to rear its ugly head. Living life out in the wild was tough, and seeing that pack was a slap in the face. Heavy reminders weren’t necessary for her, but they happened from time to time whether she invited them or not. 

She hoisted herself over the base of some nearby tree roots and pushed away some briar leaves when, all at once, she was met with yet another disheartening scene. This time, however, it was much worse. 

It was an entire campsite. 

Remnants of a firepit were scattered as if crawled over by some large animal. A kind of patchwork cloth tent was torn and leaning against some sticks which protruded from it like dead branches in the snow. Other borrowings like thread, a couple plastic thimbles, and a makeshift pan out of a metal bottle cap and paperclip. A torn scrap of felt clung to a root like a surrender flag. A snapped matchstick lay at an odd angle beside a metal thimble battered on one side.

What really set her on edge was something that looked like a swaddled kitten. Why any Borrower wanted something that looked like a cat or kitten was beyond her, but the fact that it was a toy meant there was a kid here at some point. 

Whoever came out here definitely wasn’t ready for life on the outside. Why come out here in the summer? Desperation? Were they seen? They must’ve come from those houses nearby and were trying to make it to the other neighborhood or to the community in the woods, but that’s at least a month away, and that’s being generous. 

Nella’s keen eyes continued to scan the torn up campsite, picking up whatever she deemed useful and tossing it in a pile to salvage when the hair on the back of her neck raised. Her pin was out faster than most could blink and she turned instinctually toward a nearby tangle of briars. Her body naturally coiled low, scanning the underbrush. Her eyes caught movement half-buried beneath curled leaves. To her astonishment, she met eyes with the, not one, but two who were watching her. 

Curse my curiosity! This is… inconvenient. This won’t end well for me.

Chapter Text

Four eyes. Two faces. Both young. 

Nella had never been the best at guessing age, but the youth in the smudged faces hinted that they hadn’t hit puberty yet. Cautious and fearful brown eyes watched Nella with keen, cautious interest - and fear. They were shaking so badly that Nella was surprised she didn’t see them earlier by the way the briar leaves were trembling. Not only that, but the camouflage was laughable. 

Shreds of plastic netting and a broken clothespin for a shield created some kind of miniature barrier. The leaves were backward, showing the underside rather than the top which would’ve disguised them better. Despite all this, they didn’t move. The older one had one arm across the younger’s chest, protection or restraint. Dirt masked half their faces, but their eyes were clear: wide, watching, waiting.

Not good. Curses! They’re young. And, if I had to venture a guess, they’re alone. That or they’re watching me raid their campsite hoping someone comes home to pound me into the dirt. Better to try and talk with them. Curses! How do you even talk to kids? At least they have the sense to hold still even when seen. The real test will be if they run instead of freeze. It’ll be a good gauge for their instincts. 

It felt unnatural, but Nella raised her hands momentarily before slipping her pin back onto her side. She stood up at her full height and scanned the vicinity. She didn’t want to be ambushed or threatening, but she also didn’t want to be unprepared either. 

Mustering the effort and preparing to use an unused voice, cleared her throat and said, “Hey, I see you two. Want to come out and tell me what happened?” No response. “You two alone? Or is someone supposed to come back and keep track of you?” The concern that she couldn’t hear their response prompted Nella to take a few steps forward. As the older Borrower woman approached a few steps, she watched the girls flinch backward as if preparing to run. 

And they’re untrusting. At least they have that going for them. Nella sighed, hands resting on her hips like the scales of justice themselves. I don’t have time to play twenty questions with these two. If they’re going to run, that’s on them. Hopefully they have a guardian who comes back. Doubt it though. 

Nella exhaled through her nose, low and sharp, and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. This was a whole mess she’d always hoped to avoid. She hadn't chosen children. Had never wanted the ache of them clinging, crying, loud, needy, worrying. 

“Alright. Have it your way.” Nella took a step back, turning to the campsite away from the children, and continued rummaging through the scraps and debris. Nella squatted by the battered thimble, turning it over with one hand and tossing it into her pile with the other items she’d scavenged. A snapped clip. A twist of copper wire. The handle of a safety pin half-buried under leaves. 

Everything that she would’ve left and kept was mixed in all together. The dreaded feeling that this was just an unprepared family began to settle over her. Her hands closed around the base of a spool barely protruding from a crack in the bark. She tugged it loose, winced as it scraped her palm. A good one—intact. She brushed the dirt from its side and slid it next to her pack.

Nella dropped her pack and began organizing the items further when she heard a small voice defiantly force out its stammering words. 

“H-h-hey! Y-you… you c-can’t just t-take that!” 

Nella slowly looked over her shoulder and saw the oldest of the two had stepped out from the briars, revealing scrapes and her fragile frame. She looked to be a complete mess, and that was putting it lightly. Her clothes were smeared with mud and blood. She looked like she could barely stand. This kid probably hadn’t eaten or had a drop of water in at least a day; and, in this heat, it was a death sentence. 

Still, the child had the confidence to come out and attempt to tell Nella off. 

“Th…th-that’s… that’s stealing!” The girl croaked. 

Spunky. She’ll need that fighting spirit. 

Nella didn’t bother standing up and didn’t stop working. Instead, she shot off her reply without thinking. “It’s not stealing. It’s borrowing. And it’s obvious you two haven’t been using it, so it’s just going to go to waste if someone doesn’t do something about it.” Nella realized how cold she must’ve sounded as tears welled up in the child’s eyes. She sighed and ran her fingers through the unbraided part of her hair before tugging on the end as she tried to salvage her response. Something came to her, so she went with it. “Besides, I’m just organizing it right now, so it hasn’t even been borrowed. Good?” 

The girl continued to shiver and shake. It was obvious she was scared and using what little courage and energy she possessed on this interaction. Nella repositioned herself to see both sisters while continuing to arrange the items by level of usefulness. The younger of the two stepped out of the briars with her sister and picked up the toy that looked like a swaddled cat. She looked dazed, dirty, and only slightly better than her sister. 

Probably helped her sister by giving her their food or whatever they had. Both look like they’re in some kind of shock. This is just great. 

Nella sighed. She heaved herself up, pushing down on her knees to make the ascent easier, and turned to the two girls. If they were in shock, they needed some kind of blanket to help their bodies regulate their temperature, despite it being so hot outside here and now. Her immediate reaction was to sit them down and out of the way and wrap them in her plastic bag, but forcing them was probably a bad idea and using her own supplies was less than optimal when there were more familiar, comforting things nearby. 

The Borrower woman went with the first thing that popped into her head and she walked over to the battered patchwork tent. It took a few tugs and some of the stitches popped with a loud snapping sound, but Nella managed to tug it free from the protruding branches. She turned in time to see the older of the two coming over and snatching a corner of the tent. 

“I s-said no! That’s stealing!” Her words trembled from weakness, energy depleting by the second. 

“I don’t have time for this,” grumbled Nella as she continued to drag it across the camp. “I’m not stealing anything. It’s borrowing, and it’s for you two so be grateful. Now get over here and sit down.” Dealing with fussy children when the sun was rapidly setting was the last thing Nella wanted, but she’d hate herself if she didn’t at least do this much. 

One harsh tug and the fabric was ripped from the girl’s grip. Nella heard a stuffy sniffle from the oldest while the younger continued to stand there dazed. The youngest’s arm snagged in one hand and the makeshift tent in the other, Nella marched over to a nearby root gathering and forced the kid to sit down before flaring the tent out and wrapping it around her shoulders. 

“Sit here and don’t move,” Nella instructed, turning to the older of the two. “And you need to join her.” 

“Why?” 

Curses! They ask questions. I forgot they ask such stupid questions! 

“Because you’re experiencing some kind of shock and if you don’t get yourself regulated then you’ll die. Now, get over here or I’m not helping you,” countered Nella. Again, she winced at her own harshness. She knew these kids had probably seen some terrible things, and she wasn’t making this easy for the kids. For the second time in such a short span, she tugged at the base of her braid and wished she knew what to say. Anything felt better than this. 

It wasn’t much, but Nella figured she might as well continue with what she was doing. Actions spoke louder than words according to her mom back in the day, and hopefully this kid would respond positively to that. Nella approached her bag, dragged it over to the sitting sister, and tugged her water canteen from the side ties. She cracked open the lid and gestured to the older sibling to the container. Nella took a swig from the bottle and held it up for the older sister to see. 

“See this? Water? You get a drink if you come over here and sit down with your sister.” Nella gingerly pressed the opening to the cracking lips of the younger girl. She tipped it up and let the water splash her mouth. It stunned the girl momentarily before she opened her mouth and took several ravenous gulps. She gripped the sides eagerly and tilted the container up, splashing the contents onto her smudged face and into her nose. Precious drops spilled out on either side as she gagged and gasped for air as Nella ripped the container away. 

Good grief! She spilled more than she drank! 

“Easy! Little sips. You drink too much all at once, you’ll chuck it all back up again. Hear me?” Nella scolded as she leaned over and stared harshly at the girl. Water still dripping down her face, she nodded eagerly, eyes glancing between Nella and the container in her hands. Her fingers flexed slowly, grasping at something that wasn’t there. She forced herself to swallow, breath somewhat uneven. 

Nella sighed and, learning her lesson the first time, snagged her own thimble and poured a little water into it, shoving the thimble into the girl’s hands. “Slow sips,” she said warningly. She was now left to her own devices to continue organizing and packing all of the useful pieces of the disheveled campsite. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It didn’t really matter considering how little daylight was left. What she did know was that when the older Borrower looked back at the older of the two, she saw how her eyes yearned for what her sister currently had. It was begrudging, but the older sibling shuffled over and sat next to her sister as the two began taking turns sipping from the thimble. The older Borrower approached and pulled the makeshift shock blanket over the older sibling’s shoulders before continuing her work. All things considered, she was grateful the two had finally calmed a bit and were sipping on the water. 

The dwindling daylight forced Nella to work at lightning speed to set up her tent, snapdash some camouflage, and pull out her spark supplies to make a fire. The little wood that was scattered around the campsite was going to have to do for a campfire with what Nella had in mind for dinner - soup. It was a great way to stretch food and get some good liquid into the girls. All things considering, it was the best meal despite it being served a bit warm. 

So as the sun slipped below the distant horizon, Nella poured three equal rations into the available thimbles, careful to keep what little water she had left accounted for. She handed the thimbles back to the girls before taking a seat across from them, back to her intended slumbering spot under some brush and branches, as she began to drink the jerky and mushroom broth. The younger sibling glanced at the older one before giving her a little nudge before muttering a soft, “Thank you.” 

Nella, cheeks filled with broth, gave a partial smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, thanks,” the older muttered. 

Nella swallowed the broth and wiped the little bit of liquid up into her mouth before nodding. “You’re welcome, but it comes at a cost.” Both girls paused, lips of the thimbles pressed against their awaiting lips. They squirmed uncomfortably, and it wasn’t lost on Nella. She huffed and continued, “The cost is answers. What’re your names? What happened to your campsite? You know? Fill in the gaps.” 

The relief on the kids was obvious, but it was only the younger who dared to take a sip from the broth as the oldest continued to eye Nella skeptically. 

“Or what?” 

“You really think you’re in a good position to be asking that question? Or nothing. It would be nice to know who you are instead of calling you ‘twerp’ and ‘squirt’ and I can’t just leave you two here on your own in good conscience unless I know you have family coming back to get you. Now, either answer my questions or accept your new names and eat your dinner,” retorted Nella. She reached in and pinched a piece of mushroom and shoved it into her mouth before focusing on the flames of the flickering fire. The older Borrower knew that her agitation came from the compounding heat, stress, and now two strange children - one intent on challenging everything she said and the other quieter than a mouse. 

The silence was filled only by the subtle crackling of the fire until the youngest piped up, making Nella breathe a sigh of relief. 

“I… I-I’m R-Rue. An-d sh-sh-she’s Cerin. W…we… w-w-we…” Rue stammered as large, glossy tears began rolling down her cheeks. The whimpering whine that came out of her sounded eerily like the squeaking of a dog toy, wheezing gasp and all. Cerin, the oldest sister, leaned in and wrapped her arm around her sister in some kind of effort to comfort her, but it was obvious she was barely keeping herself together based on the sheen in her eyes. 

Cerin barely managed to finish her sister’s sentence with, “We’re alone,” before taking a choking sip from her thimble, an obvious attempt to hide her reaction. 

Yikes. Whatever happened has got to be rough. How’d they managed to get away? Sacrifice? Accident? Curses. I guess I don’t need to know, but it would be nice. If there’s something dangerous in the area, I need to be aware of it. Nella sighed and set her thimble to the side, giving it a little press into the dirt so it didn’t fall over and spill, as she readjusted her sitting arrangement from cross-legged to slightly propped up, one leg up and the other partially tucked as her arm draped over the upright leg. 

“Okay, Cerin. Rue. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I need to know if there’s anything dangerous in the area and if that’s what happened here in your camp so I can try to keep it from happening again,” instructed Nella. 

Both girls shook their heads. 

“N-no… it’s… they…” Rue sobbed. Her face was quickly becoming a splotchy red and snot was oozing from her nose. When both girls mildly devolved into whimpering and shivering beneath their blanket, Nella elected to not press the issue at the moment. Shoulders sagging, she dragged her bag closer and detached the bag she’d found earlier along with her needle and the remnants of thread she’d found.

If I’m going to wait for them to calm down before figuring out everything that happened, I might as well be useful. This bag needs sewing up and I can’t carry everything. If the girls want to bring anything with them, they’ll hopefully pitch in. 

Nella had barely pulled out the bag after threading the needle when the oldest’s face twisted in shock and horrified recognition. She pointed at the bag in Nella’s hands and demanded, “Where’d you get that?” 

Nella, unphased, began sewing up the edges, aligning the torn holes and missing segments. “I found it out in the field by the edges of the trees. Why? This belong to one of you two?” 

Cerin’s face hardened, features scrunched, as she mumbled, “It’s our sister’s.” The picture was starting to become a bit clearer. 

“There were three of you?” she asked. The two sisters nodded. “What about your parents? Were they out here two? Or was it just you two and your sister?” The older Borrower woman saw the blanket wrapped around their shoulders shaking once more. Their eyes were distant and glossy again. It was obvious whatever happened was bad, and based on Nella’s guess it had to be recent because of the evidence of the bag itself. There was still no indication of what might’ve happened to their parents, but it had to be bad. It always was. It was yet another punch in the gut. A reminder of the fragility of a Borrower. 

Nella sighed and set her project to the side, forcing herself up and grasping the girls’ shoulders only for a moment, squeezing gently, as she offered a brief, “I’m sorry,” before retreating back to her spot by the fire. 

The sounds of the forest returned. The crickets continued to rub their legs together, creating the humming percussion that filled the air with a loping rhythm. Frogs chirped. Fireflies sparked and twinkled in the nearby fields, making it look like a green star filled sky. Some other insects hummed their evening song. The fire sank lower and lower, reduced to embers, as Nella worked on the bag until, finally, the fire was nearly snuffed out. 

The two sisters glanced back at Nella expectantly as she packed up the last of her belongings and carried them back to her hammock. The older Borrower hoisted the bag up off of the ground and stared at her hammock, knowing there wasn’t enough room in there for all of them. It was also too hot to have all of them within the protective shield of the bag. 

I can’t sleep on the ground if I plan on moving tomorrow. I can’t protect them and carry the bags and protect myself if I’m injured or aching more than what I already am. Nella glanced into her pack and quickly evaluated her supplies, immediately disheartened at how much was in her quickly dwindling supply. And I can’t hunt or get food if I’m hurting. It’s cruel, but they’ve got to sleep on the ground. They were doing that anyway. We’ll figure out something better tomorrow. 

“Alright you two. Come on,” instructed Nella. She walked past and snagged any and all scraps of cloth and bedding that was left of the dilapidated campsite and began hauling it back to the place near her hammock. “I don’t like sleeping on the ground and it would be better if you two didn’t sleep on the ground, but it’s late and we need to get some sleep. We’ll figure out everything else tomorrow, but in the meantime this is what it is.

“I’m going to show you two how to best set up your bedding to be comfortable. Okay? Now, you’ll want to layer some leaves on the ground. Why? Better for protection and will keep all your body heat from leaking into the ground. Got it?” 

Nella turned around and saw that neither girl had moved from their place by the embers of the fire. Being ignored was a pet peeve of Nella’s ever since she was young, but those feelings evaporated the moment she approached the girls and saw they’d fallen asleep sitting up, propped up only by leaning against one another, thimbles still in their laps. 

Looks like survival comes second to sleep. 

She proceeded with setting up the area, deciding the girls would set up their area the next day. The older Borrower woman began with a layer of larger leaves first followed by some of the thicker blades of grass to help soften the crunch of some of the leaves. She then patchworked the cloth pieces that were left over the leaf-grass base to make things a bit softer before tugging the blanket off of the girls’ shoulders. Folding it in a way to provide the most layers with something to cover the girls, Nella finally finished the makeshift bed. 

The next hardest part, to her misfortune, was moving the girls. Neither woke well, merely slumping back into one another despite how she shook their shoulders, so Nella relented and slipped her arms under the youngest’s legs and wrapped her other arm around the girl’s torso. Instinctually, Rue’s arms wrapped around her neck as Nella carried her over to the bed and laid her down. Seconds later, she was asleep. The process was repeated with Cerin and, soon, everyone was in bed. 

Before Nella turned herself into her own bed, she noticed the small toy that Rue was holding earlier by the edge of the fire along with the thimbles that required a wash. It was impulsive and something that Nella thought was a bit ridiculous, but she brought the toy over to Rue’s sleeping form and tucked it in under her arm. 

Not like this’ll do her any good, but if she’s willing to carry it and makes her feel better, then I don’t mind. 

Nella continued her normal routine as she slipped off her shoes, took a swig of water, and crawled into her tent. Staring at the two young girls as they slept soundly, she could only begin to wonder what had happened and if she was going to figure it out. 

More importantly, she wanted to know what happened next. 

They had no family.

They were all alone. 

They only really had each other and herself, and that was her being generous. 

Maybe I take them to the Borrower community? They have loads of resources and probably some Borrower families who can take in a few other kids. There are some houses there too, so borrowings should be easy enough for them to find. It’s obvious they’re not used to living out here, so they’ve only lived inside. Maybe there are some families there who want two little girls. 

Any of them will do - any but me. This is already more than I signed up for. I’m not prepared for this. 

Someone will take them. 

Curses! I didn’t want to already start heading back to the community. This throws everything off. My hunting season. My exploration. My gathering. My bartering and trading. Curses! 

On the other hand, keeping these two will only slow me down more. It’ll take a month to get back to the community, and that’s just with me. 

Nella huffed a sigh. 

I can’t think about that now. I need to sleep. I’ll need my strength and goodness knows how long that’ll hold out.

Chapter Text

“Did you hear that?”

“Shhh!”

“It sounded like it was coming from over there.”

“Shhh!” 

“But…”

“If something is over there, it’s going to hear you because you’re whispering too loud!” 

“I’m not whispering too loud.”

“Yes, you are.” 

“You’re whispering too loud.”

“Nu-uh. You are!” 

Nella pried her eyes open at the sounds of two young voices and, like getting hit by a falling acorn, remembered the events of the day before. She wasn’t exactly sure what she expected. Maybe she thought that going to sleep would wake her from the nightmare of finding two orphaned girls. It was selfish to not want to take care of these two strange kids and knew Nella hadn’t asked for this, but she couldn’t leave them now. It would be the wrong thing to do. Despite it being a drain on her resources and time, Nella knew she couldn’t in good conscience leave them to their own devices with a simple pack of supplies. 

Ears waking to the children’s not so quiet whispering, Nella filled her lungs with the already sweltering air and pushed herself upright onto one elbow. The girls continued talking, obviously not hearing Nella stir, and continued to do so as the older Borrower woman emerged from her hammock, slipped on her shoes, and began rebraiding her hair. She’d managed to make it all the way to the tips of her hair before the youngest, Rue, caught a glimpse of a looming Nella practically standing over the girls. 

She let out a little yelp and hunkered under the blanket as Cerin, confused, glanced over her shoulder and also noticed Nella standing over them. She visibly tensed, but didn’t retreat. 

“Neither of you are good whisperers, and if there were something out there it would’ve gotten all of us just by listening. Rule one about living outdoors is if you think you hear something - don’t start talking about it. It’s called the ‘shush and sense’,” scolded Nella. She stepped around the girls and crouched at the entrance of the tangled roots and scanned their surroundings. 

Nothing looked disturbed from the night before. It was obvious something came through based on the single footprint in the middle of camp, but Nella knew it was just a harmless deer based on the two-pronged toe marks in the thirsty dirt. Everything else was where she’d left it. Campfire remnants. Check. Thread scraps. Check. Leftover borrowings with sentimental value. Still there. 

Nella breathed deeply and closed her eyes, the wind blowing against her cheek with a promising chill. It was the promise of rain, but if she had to guess it wouldn’t arrive until the next day based on the sunshine peeking through the leaves and branches high above. 

We should have enough time to make it to the lake before the rain tomorrow. Gives me time to hunt and get some fresh water. Need to find something for them to carry water and food in too. 

“Um… ma’am?” 

Ugh… that makes me sound so old. 

Nella looked over her shoulder at Rue, who had pulled herself out from under the blanket and was crouching just behind her. It was impressive she was mimicking so early, but Nella could tell Rue was still uneasy on her feet and could easily be knocked off balance by a stiff wind. At least she’s trying, Nella’s more positive side thought. The older Borrower woman sighed, shoulders slouching momentarily, as she pulled her attention from the outside world to the girl. 

“What’s up?” she asked. 

“Um… I… er…” 

Hesitation. 

“Just spit it out, kid,” said Nella. She reached up and scratched the corner of her eye with the knuckle of her thumb. 

“Oh… um…” Rue stammered. “I… we didn’t mean to be whispering so loudly.” 

“It’s fine. Just don’t do it again. If you want to survive out here, you have to listen, meaning less of this, and more of this,” Nella replied, using her hand to mimic a talking motion and then a silent motion. “Now, if you have to go to the bathroom, now’s the time to go because we’ve got a lot of ground to cover and a lot to do. So, up and at ‘em. Let’s go.” 

Nella snagged a couple spare cloth pieces and emerged from the wad of roots they’d made their temporary fortress. She didn’t turn around to check and see if the girls were coming with her, but based on the scrambling she heard and the quick pat of footsteps behind, they had to be close. She gave them each a cloth piece and quickly finished her business before going back to the camp and beginning the regiment of breaking down camp. 

It took a minute for the girls to return, which began to concern Nella, and, once they did, Nella put them to work. 

“Alright you two. I managed to patch up this bag as best as I can for now. I have everything stacked into useful and useless, so put all the useful stuff in the bag in a way that’ll keep you balanced and comfortable. Okay?” asked Nella. She held out the patchwork bag to the older of the two girls, and she took it begrudgingly. 

“Our stuff isn’t useless,” mumbled Cerin bitterly. 

“Well, you have a lot of things that don’t directly help you. If it doesn’t help, it just adds weight. So, therefore, it’s useless. Now, start helping and when you finish we’ll get going,” Nella stated. 

“But, what about breakfast?” Rue interjected. Nella’s shoulders fell and she looked up to the sky for some kind of serenity before turning to face the still smudged faces of the two little girls in front of her. 

“We’ll walk and eat. Saves time. Like I said, we have a lot of ground to cover. So, if you wanna eat, we need to get a move on,” replied Nella shortly. 

“Why’re you being so mean?” Cerin retorted, features scrunched in an attempt at a snarl. The question should have stopped the older Borrower woman in her tracks, but it didn’t. She kept moving back toward her own area and ducked under the roots to finish securing her pack. There wasn’t time enough in the day to answer every retort and explain every action. Some part of her chest felt compressed, like she knew she was being too harsh on the girls, but that same part of her wasn’t sure how to stop her retorts. Interacting with youngsters wasn’t ever her forte. This was worse than being thrown into the deep end of the pond. 

In all reality, she didn’t want to promise something she didn’t have. The supplies she had were severely limited. A handful of nuts and dandelion fragments were left over along with some dried cricket. 

Don’t think about that now. They can’t be worse than what they were. Main thing is water. If we don’t get there soon, we won’t have anything to drink and that’ll be worse for us. Can’t eat if we don’t have something to wash it down. 

Nella, instead, turned her attention to finishing her own packing and setting aside the necessary materials for a makeshift breakfast. Everything plus the couple of small trinkets she’d scavenged fit nicely in her pack, sadly to the detriment of her food supply, when her attention finally returned to the girls, which was a more depressing sight than their severe lack of breakfast options. 

Shoulders slumped. Features saturated with numbness. The two youngsters couldn’t tear their eyes away from the pile of belongings that had been separated into the two piles Nella had made. It pained her to admit, but Nella could now see how much this actually hurt. Rue and Cerin probably grew up knowing these things as essential parts of their home. They probably saw a parent cooking with the heavy metal thimble or using one of the trinkets to comb through their hair or being gifted to celebrate a birthday. 

These things were useless - but they were meaningful. In all reality, these things were probably the only things these two had left of their family. 

Bleeding hearts of the world! Why me?! 

Even as she set her bag down, she chastised herself for her actions. 

It was foolish.

It was useless. 

It was going to mean the world to these girls and proved, in one weird way or another, that she wasn’t completely heartless; if not to the girls then to herself. Nella began tugging all of her lighter items out of her pack and setting them off to the side. Snagging the bag from Cerin, she began loading up the pack in the best way possible, hoping it would possess some comfort for the child. 

It took barely five minutes, which still felt like an eternity, but Nella had finally managed to pack everything - useless and not - into their two bags. The girls watched wordlessly, smudged faces confusingly staring up at her with glossy, tired eyes. With everything packed, Nella hoisted the bag onto her back, feeling the weight of what used to be half as heavy, and turning toward the girls. 

“One of you get that pack onto your back. You’ll take turns when I say so. Now get to your feet and you’ll get breakfast.” 

“But, you said th-...”

“Do you want to argue? Or do you want to keep your stuff which, by the way, is way too heavy if you plan on surviving out here,” Nella asked firmly, already feeling the irritation of the pack being too heavy and draining her energy and what little tolerance she usually kept on reserve. Cerin, the one who’d begun to snap back, closed her mouth. She begrudgingly tugged the pack onto her back, rolling her shoulders forward to adjust how the strap sat on her shoulders. Rue, on the other hand, looked to their patchwork cloth bed and then back to Nella. 

“Does… does that mean we h-have to leave… our…” Her eyes were watery. Brows peaked in the middle in a perfect triangle. Even for Nella, the sight was a pitiful one. It obviously meant something to her - to both of them - and all at once it felt impossible to leave it. The choice was already made, but it was yet one more thing to hoist with them. 

“If you can carry it,” sighed Nella. She only had her own meddling to blame. Cerin’s pack hit the ground faster than she could blink as the two girls scampered over to the blanket and began folding and twisting it. It was impressive she hadn’t noticed until now, but part of the underside of the blanket was actually a pocket that splayed out into all of the other parts. There were even some straps and a button at the bottom with two little ties to keep the whole thing together. An ingenious design, and undoubtedly made with craft-blessed, skilled hands. 

Probably something that’s been in the family for years. There’s no way to get them to leave it here. It’s just as well. If they’re able to carry everything, it’ll make them stronger. If they can’t, they’ll learn they can’t bring everything with them all the time - regardless of how it makes you feel. 

Nella’s mind drifted momentarily to the button she’d kept for no particular reason and a pretty little shawl she used to carry with her. An image flashed of that lovely fabric caught in briars that shook with the force of the pursuing monster. Nostalgia punched her in the gut. 

No. We can’t bring everything. 

Girls and packs finally ready, Nella divvied out the dried cricket. Before turning on her heel and beginning their trek through the woods, Rue piped up, saying, “Thank you, ma’am,” as she followed the first couple steps. Cerin echoed the same phrase and, together, they began their journey. 

The first couple hours were fine, for the most part. The girls ate quietly and followed over rocks, across small dried banks, and even slid down some of the steeper hills to get down to the drain pipes they used to walk under human hiking trails, all of which made the two youngsters anxious. It was only after they needed to climb up those few hills and when Nella refused to give them water on demand that they began to complain and become agitated. Their voices were borderline whining as they huffed and puffed behind Nella, who was also barely able to hold herself upright. 

“When are we stopping?” 

“Do you have any more water?” 

“My feet hurt.”

“My back hurts. Something’s trying to dig into my spine!” 

“Could you just stop walking in front of me?” 

“Can we take a break?” 

In all fairness, they had every right to complain, but they also didn’t at the same time. The weight they carried was self-inflicted. Their hunger could’ve been satiated for longer if they sucked on the meat she’d given them instead of inhaling it. In fairness, they were obviously not experienced at living outdoors and the humidity was beginning to intensify as the sun got higher and higher in the sky. It wasn’t an ideal time to move around and every complaint or snip was exactly what Nella felt like doing every time she felt a bead of sweat trail down her spine. They were voicing everything she was feeling, but complaining wasn’t going to get them anywhere. Nella was so consumed with tuning out the girls that, finally, she relented, requiring a break herself. 

“Fine, we can stop, but not for long. We need to make it to the lake before sundown or else we won’t have any water or food for the rest of the day,” instructed Nella. She pried off her bag after sitting it onto a root and kept it propped up so she wouldn’t have to lift it from the ground up. The girls collapsed onto the ground right where they stood, faces in the dirt and everything. They were in two small puddles being baked by the sun despite the canopy of trees high above them. 

Her throat was ragged. It was like she’d stuffed a mouthful of sand into her mouth and swallowed. Thirst was one of the fastest killers out here in the wild, and some of the methods she knew of were less than desirable, but would keep them alive. Praying she didn’t have to resort to those things, she silently wished she could grow gills to breathe the humid summer air when a life-saving breeze rushed through the trees. 

The sweat that dripped off her body suddenly was the one thing capturing the coolness in the breeze, and she absorbed every moment of it. The gust was strong and steady, lasting several eternal seconds. It rustled her hair playfully. Her flushed cheeks stopped burning. Even the drops of sweat stopped their crawl to help keep her cool. 

“Oh! That feels so nice!” Cerin breathed. She’d managed to sit upright and had her arms out wide as if she were trying to be a human kite. Rue mimicked the motion, though a bit slower than her sister. Both girls’ cheeks were scarlet, meaning they were starting to overheat. 

The older Borrower glanced down at her water container and her gut twisted. There was just enough for a small swig for each of them. 

It’ll be the last and it’s not enough, but hopefully it’ll be enough to keep them from passing out from heat exhaustion. We’re nowhere near close, but maybe we’ll get lucky and find a stream to stop by and hold out until tomorrow. This is nowhere close to where we need to be. Behind schedule and over allotted weight for packing. Fine mess I’ve gotten myself into. 

“Alright you two. One swig each and then we’re back at it.” Nella went ahead and took a small swig, hoping she’d be left the last drop once the girls were done. Rue went first, taking in the water like a dried sponge, and the Cerin, who finished the last few drops before screwing the cap back onto the container. 

“Thank you,” the older child mumbled. 

“Do we have much further to go? Can’t we stay here?” asked Rue. Her hair was sticking to her forehead, which was gleaming with sweat and mixing with the dirt she’d just laid in. Nella shook her head and retrieved the now drained water container. 

“Not if you want to drink again. Now, on your feet and we’ll see what we can find,” instructed the older Borrower woman. One minute. Two. Neither child moved. They just knelt there wilting like flowers in the sun. In a way, they all kind of were. The unrelenting ball of fire in the sky wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, and staying put would be the death of them. 

With a bit of a huff, Nella walked up to each of the girls and, with waning strength, grabbed them by their shoulders and lifted them to their feet. They initially were limp, like rag dolls, but quickly read the intensifying frustration on her face and kept themselves upright as she hoisted their bags onto their backs, slipped on her own, and then began leading the way once more. 

Each step felt thunderous, weighted and loud as each foot made contact with the leaf laden ground. Their breathing became laborious, and exhaustion was beginning to show. If Nella had to put a positive spin on the situation, the girls were now too exhausted to complain. Bad side, it was making them clumsy. 

Rue had already stumbled seven times, and Cerin was on her fifth. A mix of the weight they were carrying and the lack of food and water was draining them faster than fire on a stack of brittle match caps, and Nella had no alternatives other than to press forward. The dangerous thought of leaving them alone and hidden while she scouted around crossed her mind when, to her surprise and utter relief, the sun was consumed by a large, dark cloud. 

“Oh! Shade!” Cerin cheered as she looked up at the sky. A cool breeze whipped past them, making all three Borrowers pause mid-step to enjoy it. Rue held out her arms as wide as she could as the air whipped around her body and caught the blanket on her back, tugging her a couple steps back. Her initial squeal of panic turned to her and her sister’s giggle as they leaned into the next strong gust of wind. 

The reprieve made Nella smile. She marveled that the two of them could manage even the smallest of smiles after losing everything. Perhaps it was the misery of walking with her mixed with the heat and lack of food and water that was making them delirious. Still, even Nella had to admit the sight was heart warming. The momentary relief didn’t last long. As the sisters looked at one another, their somberness settled over them once more. It was a painful recognition of their strange circumstances. The older Borrower woman wanted to do or say something to comfort the children. It didn’t feel right to have them sitting there on the ground wilting from heat and sadness. 

But Nella had other things to worry about. 

All at once, she heard something hit the ground nearby. Her senses were suddenly on high alert. She instinctually sank into a partial crouch and turned toward the sound. Keen eyes scanned the underbrush. Every twitch of the nearby leaves and ferns set her on edge. Nella noticed the girls were now looking at her, confusion on their faces which turned to worry. 

“W-what? D-do you see something?” asked Rue. Her eyes darted all around, but it was obvious she wasn’t seeing what she was looking at. Nella shook her head and approached where she heard the sound, crouching only for a moment to see a sheen on the ground. Cerin stood up taller next to her sister and also whipped her head around. She positioned herself over her sister protectively. Nella sighed as she viewed the two girls. 

These two need some survival one-oh-one. If anything were coming through the brush, they’d be snatched in an instant. And Heaven forbid something be coming down from… the… Nella turned her eyes upward as a dangerous thought occurred, and both relief and fear were confirmed in a single glance. 

Relief that it wasn’t some kind of dropping from a large predatory bird that was going to snatch them up. 

Fear… because those clouds could only mean one thing - a massive storm. 

Thick, dark clouds loomed above like a cresting wave. The chill in the air could only mean that it was bringing rain with it - a lot of it. Given their circumstances, Nella felt guilty that fear was one of her first instincts she possessed. The fresh water was going to be amazing, considering they were practically out. The only problem was that this much water was lethal, especially for a Borrower living outdoors. 

No. What? It wasn’t supposed to rain for another few days. The weather… I thought. No. Doesn’t matter. We need to get up high… right now! 

Nella stood and marched over to the girls, helping Rue to her feet as she snagged Cerin’s arm. “Get up. We need to move away from here to higher ground.” 

“Higher ground?” Rue managed to ask as she stumbled behind Nella, who still had a good grip on her arm. “But… we… I’m… I can’t climb.” The older Borrower stopped in her tracks and pulled Rue in front of her, eyeing her hard. 

“You can’t climb?” she demanded. Rue shook her head, features guilt ridden. “How old are you? Your parents should’ve taught you how to climb.” 

“I-I… I’m a-afr…”

“Afraid? You’re afraid of heights? And you’re a Borrower?” Nella demanded. 

“Hey! Stop being so mean! And let go of my arm! You’re squeezing too tight!” Cerin whined as she attempted to pry Nella’s hand off of her arm. It was no use, and Nella knew it. Because she’d been weakened and wasn’t used to being hungry and thirsty and tired, Cerin’s tiny fingers merely scraped the tops of Nella’s fingers. 

Instead of letting her go, Nella turned her attention to the older of the two girls, disbelief etched into her features as she said, “You’re joking, right? Stop being mean? This world is mean. It is cruel and unforgiving and if you refuse to use one of your natural skills because you’re scared, then you won’t last long.” 

A thunderous rumble followed by a loud sound reminiscent of hissing descended upon them. A misty haze of thick, round raindrops swept across the landscape, approaching the Borrowers with incredible speed. Nella’s eyes shot up to the nearby trees as she kept a firm grip on the girls’ arms and began sprinting away from the rain. The wind began picking up harsher and faster, obscuring the path ahead and the overhanging canopy where Nella desperately continued to search for some kind of shelter. 

The spatter of rain was like some kind of immense beast breathing its spit down Nella’s neck as she continued to run and drag the girls behind her. She continued to curse herself that she didn’t read the signs earlier. Birds weren’t chirping for the past hours. Bugs were eerily quiet. All the signs were there, but she was so focused on her end objective that she’d missed it. 

Not now. Don’t think about that now. Get to safety. Get to higher ground. 

Nella’s eyes looked up and, by some miracle, she caught sight of the thing she was looking for - a hollow. 

Perfect! 

Nella yanked Cerin and Rue along with her to the base of the nearby white oak tree and dropped her bag with a tug of the emergency release strap she’d placed on it. She pulled her climbing hooks out along with the good climbing thread she’d been saving. Both children looked over their shoulders, hair whipping in the wind, as they saw the wall of rain descending upon them. 

“What’re you doing?” Cerin had to shout over the relentless wind. “Don’t we need t-”

“We need to get up this tree!” Nella shouted back as she began rapidly wrapping the rope around Rue’s waist, tying it tightly around and through her legs. 

“U-up? B-but…”

“Don’t start!” Nella snapped at Rue as she shot a silencing scowl at the young Borrower. “Not when I’m the one doing all the work. Now, all you have to do is hang on and don’t thrash around. Got it?” Rue’s lip trembled as rain and tears mixed. The older Borrower turned her attention onto Cerin as she did the same thing as she commanded, “Drop your bag.” 

“Drop it? No! It’s our stuff! I’m not leaving it h-”

“Listen to me and stop asking questions! And tie this onto it! Then tie the end onto your ankle. I can’t pull both of you and our things all at once,” Nella thrust a different thread into Cerin’s hands. “Now, stay close to the tree and don’t fight me when I start pulling you up.” 

Nella yanked her hooks from her hip and jabbed them into the thick ridges of the bark. The first fat raindrop landed on her shoulder, instantly soaking through her clothes and cooling her muscles from the earlier onslaught of heat. Hooks fastened to her ankles and her fingers gripping tightly, Nella began to scale the side of the tree. 

Hand. 

Hand. 

Foot.

Foot. 

Lift with the legs. 

Don’t slow down. 

Nella forced herself to breathe through each movement as she continued to ascend the tree in record time. Rain pelted her from above. Each drop felt like it could drown her as they fell in massive orbs, landing on her head and on her body. The weight was manageable, having shed her pack. She could only hope the two girls listened at her commands as she mentally prepared to pull them up the length of the tree. 

Nella saw the lip of the hollow and the slight overhang that promised shelter. She slammed the hook into the edge and gave two quick test pulls before hoisting herself up over the edge. The wall of rain intensified, blowing the wind and water every direction imaginable. The older Borrower woman wiped her face clean with the back of her arm as she secured herself to the line and secured the hooks to the interior chamber. It sloped down and it was obvious that there was a nest in here at some point based on the collection of fuzz and leaves. A silent prayer that nothing else was in here with her would be all that protected her as she grabbed the line and began to pull. 

Hand. 

Hand. 

Secure. 

Hand.

Hand.

Secure.

Don’t twist your back.

Don’t slow down. 

Nella continued this new pattern as she grasped the line the girls were attached to and began dragging them up the side of the tree. Her arms were shaking. Every third breath felt like a struggle as she fought the swimming vision and spinning head. The line was slick with rain, and twice she almost lost her grip. The callouses Nella was so proud of did little to keep the line in place. It was her will - sheer force - that was going to get these girls up to safety. The repetitive motion didn’t stop until Nella saw the youngest’s head poke over the edge. 

Her eyes were closed tight and she was gripping the line so hard her knuckles were white. Trembling all over, Rue felt the line stop and opened one eye cautiously. Seeing the safety ahead still wasn’t enough to coax her into letting go of the line, however, and Nella was forced to haul the line over her shoulder as she descended partially into the hollow of the tree, dragging both Rue and Cerin into the dark interior. 

It was almost a shock and relief that Cerin had listened as Nella looked over the child and saw the string tied around her ankle. Still out of breath, Nella forced herself forward. She staggered for a moment and dragged the girls away from the mouth of the hole while keeping them from slipping further into the hollow. 

Dragging the bags wasn’t nearly half as taxing, but it still left the older Borrower out of breath as she hauled in the two packs. Rue had kept on her pack by design as Nella hoped the massive blanket wouldn’t be too wet by the time she got the girls to safety. 

So much for that, Nella thought as she touched the top of the bag and felt it practically soaked through. We’ll have to be careful to not have mildew with whatever is stinking up the inside here. 

Arms heavy and body fueled only by the adrenaline of the moment, Nella slumped against the edge of the hollow entrance and caught her breath. The back of her eyelids beckoned her to rest. She was more than eager to allow it to happen. Slip into unconsciousness. Tiredness was an understatement. It was a complete and utter state of being. Nella would’ve been content to stay slumped right there by the mouth of the hollow, but something caught her attention. 

A faint rustle in the darkness. 

All at once, Nella was on her feet and had a blade in hand, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Both Rue and Cerin, who were laying with their backs against the steep slope of the partially hollowed out tree, sat up and scurried near the entrance, crouching beside Nella. 

“W-what… was that?” breathed Rue. Cerin dared not speak, which Nella was grateful for, as she approached the elements of the nest tentatively. Her heart pounded, creating a dull thumping in Nella’s ears. It was loud, and the roaring rain created an immense hissing noise which was hard to pick up the subtle sounds of shifting just ahead in the descending darkness, but Nella’s trained ears knew what to look for, and soon she saw what was making those sounds. 

Relief swelled in her as she stared down at the inhabitants of the nest. 

A baby squirrel. 

Thank goodness. Shelter, water, and now food all at once. We’ll eat well tonight. 

Chapter Text

The little eyes weren’t open, telling Nella it could only be a few weeks old. Probably better that way. If it was much bigger, Nella wouldn’t be able to handle it and it would be too much food to properly dry and eat. 

Well… maybe not now that I have these two to feed as well. This might last a few days for all I know. 

“W-what is it?” Cerin called down as she rummaged in her own bag, undoubtedly for the thumb tack dagger she should have been wearing on her hip. She and Rue leaned forward and peered further into the darkness, eyes finally adjusting, as they saw Nella push aside the top bit of brush and bramble to reveal the baby squirrel. 

Immediately, Rue’s eyes lit up, hands clutched by her mouth, as she stared curiously at the sleeping rodent. “Ohhh! A baby squirrel? Oh! He’s so cute!” 

“Yeah, he is,” Cerin agreed as she began descending further into the nest to get a better look. Both girls inched forward to look at the soft gray brown face of the tiny mammal. “See his little whiskers?”

“Yeah. And it looks like he’s got liner on his eyes right there,” Cerin chimed in. 

Rue’s features fell as she said, “Momma would’ve loved him.” Nella sighed and nodded. 

“Yeah, they’re always cute when they’re little. Then they turn into tree rats that take your dinner and get into your stuff if you’re not careful. Now, he gets to be dinner. You two go and start clearing out some of this nasty bedding so we’ll have a n-”

“What?!” both girls shrieked at once. A streak of lightning illuminated the sky and, several seconds later, the thunder rumbled through the forest, shaking the trees. When the girls saw Nella’s hardened expression, both of them had tears spring to their eyes. 

“No, please no!” pleaded Rue who, in reckless abandon,  rushed forward and practically threw herself on top of the tiny creature which, to her, was about the same length as her body. “You can’t do that!” 

“Yeah! You can’t do that! He’s just a baby!” Cerin countered defiantly. Nella sighed exasperatedly and pressed her fingertips into her eyes in an attempt to wipe the pitiful image in front of her from her memory. How’d I get into this? How on earth did I manage this? Bleeding hearts of the world, why did I get sucked into this? 

“If you want to eat, especially if you like meat, you have to take it from something alive. It’s just the natural order of things. Didn’t you all ever have meat wherever you were living before you lived out here?” asked Nella. The girls didn’t need to exchange a look to answer the older Borrower’s question. “Meat comes from things that were alive, like this guy.” 

Cerin stomped her foot and folded her arms, retorting, “It still isn’t fair! He didn’t do anything wrong! He can’t hurt anybody!” 

“Yet. He can’t hurt anybody - yet. He’ll grow up and be like all the other squirrels,” explained Nella. 

“But look at him,” sniffled Rue. The innocent instruction prompted Nella to glance down at the girl. A tightening radiated in her chest. It was a sweet sight. Rue had turned around and had set the baby squirrel partially into her lap. It was nuzzling her arm, obviously looking for food of its own, and her arm barely reached over its head as she scritched it between the ears. 

“I know. They’re cute. They’re all cute, until they’re not. You two obviously haven’t lived out here long enough to have the same experiences I have. Now, if you want to eat tonight, do as I asked and I’ll be quick. He won’t feel anything,” insisted Nella. 

Both girls stood firm between Nella and the baby squirrel. The conversation was obviously going nowhere. If she could just make them see that it was already too late, then maybe they’d understand? 

“Okay, say we leave him alive and keep shelter here with him. He’s here all alone, meaning either there’s something wrong and the mom left him on purpose or something happened to the mom and he’s going to die slowly from starvation,” explained Nella. Even hearing her words made her heart clench. It was odd hearing her say all these things aloud. These things were facts. It wasn’t something she could change. 

Still, she knew she had to sound like a monster by laying out the way things worked. 

“Y-you d-don’t know if somet-th-thing happ-pened to his momma,” whimpered Rue. “She m-might come b-b-back.” Both girls had tears in their eyes. 

“Alright, and if she does come back she might reject him anyway because of our scent being all over this place now,” pointed out Nella. “Again, he’ll die slowly from starvation.”

“We’ll feed him,” declared Cerin. 

“With what? We can’t feed ourselves right now. My stash is dwindling quickly,” countered Nella. “Now, step over. Thank him for his life. He deserves that much.” 

“No! Please no!” 

Another bolt of lightning illuminated the interior of the tree, shining brightly and hardening the features of the two girls. Thunder rolled like crashing waves or breaking tree trunks. The wind whipped hard, spraying rain inside. As the sky flashed again and again in rapid succession, bolts of sky looking like electrified spiderwebs, a shadow suddenly eclipsed the entrance. 

Nella’s features fell as she stepped backward toward the girls, hand gripped hard on her makeshift sword. Cerin and Rue screamed and backed away into the hollow, backs slamming into the clawed wood. Nella’s eyes adjusted quickly as the sound of thunder mixed with the harsh barking of the creature in the entrance. 

It was the momma squirrel. 

It barked a few times harshly as it crashed over their belongings. It nosed around, staring at the Borrowers with glassy black eyes. Nella wasn’t sure when it happened, but she was suddenly in front of the girls as they shrank down behind her. Arm extended, Nella knew there was no way to beat this creature if it tried to attack them. In one, swift motion, if leaned forward, sniffed the baby, snagged it in its mouth, and darted back out of the hollow. 

The whimpers of the girls behind her echoed what she felt in her mind, body shivering all over as she allowed a moment of fear at everything that just happened. She wasn’t sure what she felt more - disappointment or relief. Their one meal ticket had been snatched right out of their hands, but the knowledge that the baby squirrel didn’t have to die today was heart warming. 

She’d rather have had the meal, but Nella silently was glad to have been proven wrong. 

At least, until Cerin said, “See? You almost killed that momma’s baby! Mommas always come for their babies.” 

Nella ground her teeth together and swung around to glare at the child, but couldn’t bring herself to maintain the look when seeing the tear tracks on the girls’ faces. Something about what Cerin just said obviously struck a harsh cord with the two of them as they hunkered together and shook, tears trailing down their cheeks. 

Stiffly, Nella sighed and approached her bag and fished out some of her other essential supplies, muttering, “Doesn’t change anything. It’ll still grow up and be a terror to some poor creature or another. And it doesn’t change the fact that this place needs to be tidied and we need food. I’m going out.” 

“O-ou-out?” Rue sniffled. 

“Yes, out,” grumbled Nella. 

“N-no! You can’t g-go!” The look on the youngest’s face was desperate while the older looked mildly indifferent upon first glance, panicked on the second. 

“I can, and I have to. I know how to survive in rains like this and we need food. It could’ve been easy, but guess that’s not how things are ever supposed to go for me,” sighed Nella. She secured her weapons and her poncho before turning back to the girls. “Stay here. Stay low. If something comes back, just hide under that blanket and use your thumb tack to stab. Got it?” 

“But…”

“No buts! Listen to what I’m telling you and do it. I wouldn’t be telling you to do something for no reason. It’s already almost too dark to navigate outside, so I need to go now or we’re going to be sitting hungry for who knows how long while the storm rages,” retorted Nella. “While I’m gone, use the thimbles and gather some water by holding your arms out of the entrance. Lay on your stomachs when you do so you don’t fall out. I’ll be back in a little bit.” 

Nella didn’t wait. She couldn’t. It was too important for her to leave and, in all honesty, she needed to take a moment to herself. She’d experienced so much socialization in such a short amount of time that she feared she’d snap; at least, snap harder than she already had on the girls. 

As she zinged down the line, wind and rain battering her from all sides, Nella thought about what Cerin had said. Mommas always come for their babies. Something deep in her gut told her that their own mother had said something like that before whatever happened to her. It was horrible. It shouldn’t be something they had to endure. 

Much like the squirrel, it was a fact of life. 

Everything began. Everything ended. 

Nella touched down on the ground and, hood up, began darting under any and all brush she could to avoid the harsh winds. Regret was the immediate sensation. The thirsting ground was oversaturated with the sudden deluge, and so pools of water were everywhere. Mud caked the bottom of the Borrower’s shoes. There were breathless moments as she leaned up against a root or a branch where the ground would give out, a sudden sinkhole of mud attempting to reach up to her waist. 

Nella balanced from root wad to root wad, traversing carefully over the terrain, until something caught her eye as the sky flashed with its spiderweb of light once more cast its net over the sky. Berries! They were the good, wild strawberries Nella had learned to identify early on in her outdoor sojourn. 

Immediately, she ran over, wading through a particularly deep puddle after checking that it wouldn’t wash her away, and began harvesting. She slipped six lovely berries into her pack, daring to eat one there in the pouring rain as water droplets pummeled her back. The berry’s size was almost comical, taking both hands to pick and hold as her teeth tore into the sweet flesh of the fruit. 

She savored the taste and used a nearby leaf to drink the fresh water gifted by the sky to wash it down. Every ounce of energy that had been zapped from her body returned with each bite. She drank her fill of water and stored an extra berry for good luck, wiping her mouth on the leaf she’d used to harvest water, when the hair on the back of her neck raised. 

Though all the rain, her eyes picked up a hint of movement from some nearby leaves that were well hidden in the briars above her head. She instinctually crouched. Her pack with those precious berries was on the ground in an instant. The movement was subtle, so it couldn’t be large. The experienced Borrower approached with caution until she had a clear line of sight on what was there. Peering around a few dark blades of grass, Nella saw what was making those movements. 

A mouse. 

Though something was horribly wrong. 

Nella approached ever so slightly and saw that the dark splotches on its body weren’t because of the rain drops. It was blood. A gaping wound in its leg and along its back had obviously incapacitated the creature, but whatever attacked it wasn’t nearby or this thing escaped only to lie here suffering. 

Is this karma? Or just coincidence? Spared the life of a baby squirrel to be gifted a mouse by the universe? 

Nella approached, spotted the fear in the creature's eyes, as it attempted to squeak and get away. She looked into its eyes, the solemnness of taking a life settling over her, before gently touching the mouse. 

“I’m sorry, but thank you for your life,” she said, thunder crashing as she jabbed her blade into the creature’s body. It shuddered violently only for a moment before going still. It was a sad sight and Nella wished she had the time to properly respect the creature, but the intensifying wind and rain told her she had already pressed her luck beyond what she was comfortable with. Quickly gutting the mouse and using the little bit of thread she’d brought with her, she secured the mouse and her pack, which was threatening to float away, and trudged back through the darkening forest. 

It was nearly pitch black as Nella hopped from root wad to root wad and snagged the line leading back up to the tree where she’d left the girls. It had been at least an hour since she’d been gone, but the darkness and dampness of her clothes would suggest otherwise. The boost of energy given by the fruit was just enough for her to make it back, though it didn’t stop her hands and muscles from shaking as she inched her way up the slick line. 

Each breath was a struggle. Every handhold was earned. The older Borrower woman groaned and broke only once on the way up to catch her breath before hoisting herself into the mouth of the hole in the tree. The hollow was practically pitch black, but a flicker of lightning revealed two hunkered down shadows near the back. 

Nella surveyed the scene in a general sweep and noticed that the interior had indeed been cleaned. The smell wasn’t as intense. Sticks and brush were over on one side and any potential droppings had been swept into a pile on one side, leaving a perfect space for the girls’ blanket, which they were currently sitting on. Thimbles were at their sides. Faces were still smudged with dirt and grime. 

It was an odd sensation, but Nella felt a hint of pride at how well the girls had listened; at least, how well they listened this time. 

Without wasting time, Nella dragged her bag closer to the two of them and began setting up a makeshift campsite, using her metal soda cap as a firepit as she used brush from the nest and one good match to light it. She didn’t speak for several long minutes as she arranged everything properly so it wouldn’t burn down the tree they were in while also cooking their meal over the fire. 

Nella could see the girls’ dark eyes as she dragged the mouse over and began carving away slivers of meat to put into the skillet she’d borrowed from the Borrower family it used to belong to. She filled her metal thimble with water and placed it near the fire and slipped small cuts of meat into the liquid, hoping to boil it and have a makeshift soup while cooking and drying the rest. 

All while she worked, Nella continued to feel an intensifying emotion she hadn’t expected - guilt. 

After everything that happened between her and the girls, her relative annoyance, and what undoubtedly happened to Rue and Cerin’s family, Nella knew she had to do better. She needed to be the bigger person, no pun intended, and that these girls didn’t just need someone to help get them from one place to another. These two needed a caretaker. They needed a mom. 

Nella was far from that, and there was little to no chance she could even begin to approach that cavernous gap between what the girls needed and what she was. She could, however, get to know them a little better. They weren’t just a thing she could transport easily as she’d done so many times before. They had thoughts and feelings and an entirely different lifestyle that she could never hope to know. 

It was exhausting, but she knew deep down what the next steps were. So, swallowing her pride, she began the impossible conversation she knew she’d live to regret. 

“Rue… Cerin… I’ve thought about everything, and I want to say I’m sorry.”

Chapter Text

“Rue… Cerin… I’ve thought about everything, and I want to say I’m sorry.” 

The words tasted bitter in her mouth, like she’d had a mouthful of moss. Nella hated - HATED - apologizing. She didn’t like it as a kid. She despised it as an adult. And now in her older years when she had everything figured out and was living the way she saw fit, she loathed the feeling. Why apologize for who you are? Why say sorry when you know you were right all along? Why bother when you know you were right all along? 

It felt pointless, and yet here she was doing it. 

Something about these two little girls reminded Nella that manners were, in some cases, important. She’d been hardened by the world. She’d lived alone for years, interacting only when necessary. These two had only just tasted the cruelty of living as a Borrower, especially one outside, and she had unwillingly been dragged into this entire mess. There was a part of her that considered not bothering with the girls when she first came across them. It would’ve been the smart thing to do in terms of survival; but it wasn’t the right thing to do. 

Like it or not, it was a responsibility she had willingly taken on. 

So, here she was, making amends and hoping that she could find a way to compromise with the girls to move forward. 

Both of the youngsters eyed her skeptically, exchanging the silent glance well-connected siblings shared to communicate with one another, before looking back at her. It was a distrusting look, one with an intangible hurt that couldn’t be bandaged or willed away. 

“Sorry for what?” The question from Cerin immediately rubbed Nella the wrong way. It was a smart aleck move that she wanted to retort snarkily to, but Nella paused. Thinking about how these two grew up, their parents probably made them apologize for whatever they did instead of just offering a blanket “sorry.” The older Borrower ground her teeth together and chewed on her lip forcefully. Chapped bits of her lip peeled off as her teeth scraped against them. 

She sighed, collecting herself, before continuing. “I’m sorry for being so short with you two.” Each word was almost forced out. It felt like pulling teeth. Nella physically shifted to knock the words loose. “You two aren’t used to how things are out here. On top of that, you both have had a lot of loss, so it seems, in a very short amount of time. The fact you two are verbal and can will yourselves to move at all is crazy to me. 

“On top of that, I haven’t really cut you two any slack. I… don’t do this kind of thing often. I’m on my own. I like being on my own. You didn’t ask to be dragged along with me, but it was all I could do to help you two survive. So, let’s just go back a bit. I’m not really good at forgetting or… forgiving… but like it or not I’m the best shot you two have at surviving out here and I’m not about to just leave you two on your own. Okay?” 

The flickering pop of the controlled fire and the deafening sound of the pounding rain outside filled the hollow. Rumbling thunder and the crack of lightning echoed through the park, shaking the trees. The wind changed, spattering water just inside the hollow, before returning to its sideways trajectory. 

It was the youngest who said, “Okay,” quietly that allowed their conversation to continue. 

“Good.” Nella breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, this will work. “Alrigh. So, moving forward, we should set up some rules to follow - all of us.”

“Does that include you not being so mean all the time?” muttered Cerin. 

Nella’s eyes flicked over to the girl, who stared back in skeptical defiance. “If we have rules set up, hopefully I won’t have to be mean to get my point across. Now, rule one is if I tell you to do something, you need to do it. I can’t always answer questions or argue in the moment why my way is the best. Got it? Sometimes, like right outside the tree when I needed to get us off of the ground, you just need to trust that I know something you don’t and it’s a matter of life or death.” 

“How will we know the difference?” Rue asked, hugging her knees to her chest. 

“If I follow up with ‘do it’ in your so-called ‘mean’ tone,” Nella replied, hearing a hint of sarcasm in her voice. 

“Rule two,” Cerin chimed in. “Don’t be so mean all the time. We have questions and don’t know stuff.” 

“Fine,” sighed Nella. “That’s a fair rule two. Rule three, no complaining. Living out here is rough and there’s almost no chance of things being comfortable.”

“Can we change it to no whining?” asked Rue. “We had that rule at home.” 

“Yeah! I like that one better,” Cerin chimed in. 

At least they’re participating and cooperating. “Fine. That would probably go over better in the long run anyway. Rule four, if you notice something that I missed, you have to tell me. The forest is dangerous. The grasslands are dangerous. The water is dangerous. Everything is dangerous. I’m going to be looking everywhere, but even I miss things sometimes. Just because I’m around doesn’t mean you two can check-out and not pay attention. Always looking. Always aware. Okay?” 

The two once again exchanged that silent sibling glance, communicating beyond words, before looking back to Nella and nodding. “Good. Now, let’s get something to eat. It’s just about done.” 

“Um… ma’am?” Rue’s words made her skin crawl. 

“Ugghh… and that’s the other thing. It’s not ‘ma’am’ anything. It’s just Nella.”

“Oh… okay… Um… Miss Nella?” 

Compose yourself. She’s trying to be polite. 

She bit her tongue and sighed. “Just Nella, and what is it?” 

“Are… um… are you going to teach us how to do all that? The looking and stuff? Because I don’t know if I know what to look for,” asked Rue. Her voice took on the tone of sweet, bashful honey, if such a thing existed. 

“I’m going to have to,” she sighed, reaching up and scratching the back of her neck, tugging at the ends of her wet, matting hair. 

“Rule five should be no killing baby animals,” grumbled Cerin, and her sister nodded in agreement, but Nella shook her head. 

“I can’t make that a rule. If it comes down to surviving and starvation, I’m going to choose my life over the creature’s life. Age doesn’t matter,” argued Nella. “And one day, when you’re hungry and tired and on the brink of death, you’ll understand. This is one of those things that you will have to trust me on.” 

“But…”

“No buts,” Nella cut Cerin off. “I will… admit,” Nella flinched at the word. “That the squirrel was cute and that it was good to leave it for its mom, but you have to understand that’s just how things are. This isn’t inside a home. This isn’t in the walls. This is outside. ” 

“Is that what you told yourself when you killed the mouse?” retorted Cerin. At this, Rue nudged her sister with her shoulder, giving her a stern look; but her older sister continued. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He might’ve had a family or babies to take care of.” 

“And that’s the sad part. That’s life,” Nella argued. “He might’ve had all of those things, but I didn’t try to kill him first. Something, probably an owl, had snatched him and dropped him. He was suffering and I-”

“Wait… owls sometimes… d-drop… what they’re h-holding?” asked Rue. There was an eagerness in her tone unlike anything Nella had seen from the girl until this point. Both siblings looked tense and hopeful. They leaned forward closer to Nella, the fire illuminating their dirt smudged faces. 

One look and Nella had a good guess as to what might’ve happened to the sister they were missing. The heaviness of it rested on her shoulders. The constricting weight of ruining their hope, robbing them of what she could only guess was the hope that their sister was alive, made her sick. 

The way things are are the way things are. 

Nella’s features said it all. Their faces fell and mirrored the harsh shadows the flames cast on Nella’s aging features. The disappointment was obviously crushing. Tears softened Cerin’s eyes and Rue looked like her cheeks were outlined in light. Nella sighed and quietly added another few pieces of twig to the fire. 

“Here,” she said as she shoved the stack of mouse meat toward the girls. “If you’re as hungry as me, this won’t last long. Go to the edge and wash your hands in the rain. Scrape them against the bark just outside. Should keep everything clean. Finish two small pieces of meat, drink some water, and then wait for a minute. Okay? You don’t want to get sick by eating too much too fast and I have some berries for dessert.” 

They barely brightened at this news, but obeyed - following the first rule. Hands semi-washed and all gathered back around the fire as the rain pelted the outside of the tree, they ate in relative silence. It felt unwise, but Nella didn’t stop the girls when they went back for their fourth and fifth piece, especially when they shared one of the smaller berries between the two of them before crawling over to their splayed blanket. 

She didn’t bother stopping them. Some hardened part of her wanted to press them to work. Now was the time to show them how she filled her canteens. Now was an excellent time to demonstrate how to rig her bag for extra water collection. Here, they could test how to climb a slick line and measure how long the storm was going to last. 

But seeing them curled up together peacefully asleep within minutes of them curling into the blanket squelched Nella’s plans. 

Tomorrow. I’ll get them started on everything tomorrow. It’s only fair. I could use the help, but I promised not to be mean. Rule two. Curses! This is going to be an adjustment.

Chapter Text

Days passed, and the rain barely relented. On one hand, they had plenty of fresh water and Nella even managed to get the girls clean, relatively speaking. During one particularly heavy downpour, Nella brought the girls out to a nearby branch and had them stand in the rain, scrubbing with clumps of moss and running some jagged bark through their hair in an attempt to comb through it. With marginal success, the three retreated back into the hollow where Nella began her training with the girls. 

First things first was building a fire in all circumstances. They had plenty of tinder and time while the rain continued to pour outside. There were a few different methods that she decided to teach the girls, seeing that fire was one of the most important components to survival. It helped cook food. It provided light. It provided heat. It could be used as a weapon, though that would be the last resort as humans tended to notice fire from a great distance and, if you lost control of it, it was very dangerous and could burn down the entire forest. 

The first technique was the most labor intensive, but usually most reliable, was the matchstick twirl. The basic principle was simple. Little bit of thread or twine on either side of the stick, tightly secured, wrapped around a relatively straight stick. Twist the thread around the top once, making a loop, and placing it on the wood piece you want to set on fire. Use an acorn cap to keep it secure and have dandelion fluff, fur, or some kind of dried grass or bits of yarn to really get the spark going. 

“There’s this thing called friction, or something like that, which creates heat. That heat, when hot enough, makes fire,” explained Nella. She removed her hand from the place she’d been working on and held the back of her hand to it. “Feel the heat? Don’t touch. Just hover over.” The girls obeyed, eyes widening as they felt the temperature of the wood. 

“It feels like it was on fire,” stated Rue. 

“That’s the point. Feels like isn’t quite ‘fire’ quality. We need to work harder and faster to get this thing going,” Nella replied before sitting up on her knees for a better vantage point and getting to work. 

The rhythm of pressing the makeshift bow back and forth on the piece of wood, making the stick spin, was a familiar one. She pressed faster and faster, focusing her breathing on maintaining her momentum, when there was a thin trail of smoke. Both Rue and Cerin’s eyes lit up as they leaned in and watched Nella kindle the fire, leaning forward and blowing on the smoke and pressing some squirrel fur to the hole she’d frictioned into existence. 

There was a spark, a smolder, and then a small flame that burned through the fur quickly. The girls clapped and reached for the device. 

“Me next!” 

“No, I wanna do it!” 

“You’ll both get to do it soon enough. Here, Cerin, you start since you’re probably a bit stronger and we’ll go on from there. Remember to keep firm pressure on the top, but not enough to keep you from moving the bow. Got it?”

“Yes, Nella,” Cerin grinned in a somewhat smug manner as she took the bow and placed it on the plank as Nella did. Back and forth, she worked the bow. Nella watched the child wobble back and forth. It was clear she was having a hard time finding the right rhythm or didn’t have enough upper arm strength to sustain the movement necessary to create that initial spark; and, quickly, she was noticing it too. 

Out of breath. Beginning to take more frequent breaks. Brow furrowed in frustration. Cerin had obviously underestimated the amount of work necessary to make fire the way Nella had done so easily. There was a mote of satisfaction in Nella’s stifled smile as she watched Cerin turn over the device to Rue, who began with the same intensity and vigor as her sister. 

Good. Maybe they’ll have an appreciation for all that goes into making a camp. 

Try as they might, the girls could only warm the wood before they tired and needed to take a break. They went back and forth for a while before they relented and slumped defeated. She’d been watching all the while and curiosity got the better of her. Surely the girls have managed more than just to wear themselves out. Nella leaned forward and rested the back of her hand on the wood, but only for a moment as her fingers began to burn. They were close to success - so close - but not enough; and, out here, so close wasn’t going to be enough. They couldn’t give up when they were on the verge of success. 

So, she snagged the bow and handed it to the girls. Cerin, the bow. Rue, the cap. 

“Come on. Don’t stop now,” she said stiffly. The girls moaned, arms dangling at their sides, as they leaned against the back of the hollow. 

“But we’re tired,” huffed Cerin.

“And our arms hurt,” added Rue. 

“And you’re on the verge of whining, so let’s not start with excuses,” pointed out Nella. Seeing their discouragement, she sighed and continued. “Look, you two almost have it. Rue, hold the cap. Cerin, use the boy. Give it a good… I’ll say… twenty good pumps and you’ll have a spark.” The girls exchanged a look, an almost wincing glance that held obvious uncertainty. They were obviously disbelieving. After so long and working so hard, they were skeptical at Nella’s words. Then, in silent sibling agreement, they nudged themselves up and assumed the same position as before, this time working as a team. The wood made a thumping, grinding squeak as the bow spun it back and forth. If Nella listened hard over the sometimes deafening ringing in her ears, she could hear Cerin counting up. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. 

On the eighteenth stroke, Rue squeaked and her eyes lit up as she saw a hint of smoke form the wood they worked. Cerin saw it too. Nella almost felt herself smile when she saw the girls stop to share their excitement. 

“Did you see?”

“Yeah!”

“Nella, did y-”

“Don’t stop! Keep going!” Nella urged. Her tone bordered scolding, but neither girl called her out on their shared “meanness” rule as they turned their attention back to the bow. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. Nella handed Rue a tuft of squirrel fur as she began blowing on the smoking wood. It almost smoldered on contact and, seconds later, it caught fire as Rue and Cerin both blew it into life. 

“Ah! Look!” they shrieked. Instinctually, they leaned away from the spark. Nella almost said something, but paused while watching the girls clasp hands and bounce excitedly around in little circles. She allowed them the win. 

It was her being “nice,” or, rather, “not mean.” The older Borrower instead focused on keeping the flame alive so she could heat the mouse meat soup. 

“Wow, that was a lot of hard work,” sighed Rue as she and Cerin collapsed onto their blanket. “I didn’t know how long it took to make a fire.” 

“Me neither,” agreed Cerin. “Do you have to do this every time you want to make fire?” Nella knew the question was aimed at her, so she nodded. “Woah! That’s so hard!” 

“It’s what you have to do to survive,” Nella replied. “Now, let me show you the easier ways.” 

“WHAT?!” Nella stifled another grin at the girls’ dismay as they glared with exhausted eyes at her. 

“You mean there are easier ways? Why can’t we just do those? Why’d we start off with the hardest?” Cerin demanded. 

“Because, one, the more you know the better chance you have at surviving and, two, this is the most tried and true method. Sometimes you don’t have what you need to do any of the other ways. You can always find a stick. You can always find a piece of string or yarn or cloth. Now, while this heats up, I’ll explain the others, so sit your butts down and listen close.” 

Nella began fishing into her pack for the other necessary items, hearing “she said butt,” and a round a giggling while Rue and Cerin inched closer. She rolled her eyes, mildly amused, and sat down in front of them, careful to not upset her sore back or popping knee. 

“How old are you two that the word ‘butt’ is so funny?” asked Nella. 

The girls, bashfully, replied, “I’m thirteen. Rue’s ten.” 

“Thirteen and ten?” Nella asked. She pondered the ages for a moment before shrugging. “That tracks actually.” 

With that, she delved into the essentials of fire making. Nella explained that some special rocks, flint, could be struck together or on a piece of metal or gravel to create a spark. Nella also explained the technique to use light and water to make a weird device that could focus a beam of light in a concentrated spot. That spot could catch fire, so they had to be careful in how they used that one. There were a few others including wires and batteries, but Nella knew she lost them at that point. If she was being honest with herself, it was all useless human science that she didn’t even understand. 

What mattered was that it worked. 

Now sufficiently exhausted physically and mentally, they ate in relative silence from the pot of boiling meat and bone brother Nella had made. She’d also used a pinch of her precious salt to enhance the meat flavor. 

It was only when they were bedding down that the girls began asking questions. 

Where’d you come from? 

“My parents.”

No, like… a house? Nearby? Far? Have you lived out here all your life? 

“Yes.”

To which one?

“Yes.” 

Who taught you all the fire stuff. 

“Lots of trial and error.”

Where’d you learn to hunt?

“Trial and error.” 

Do you have a favorite color?

“No.”

What’s your favorite thing to eat? 

“Food.” 

Do you meet other Borrowers often?

“Not this far out.”

Where are we heading?

“A community of Borrowers not too far from here. Safer for you two and a chance for me to resupply, even though it’s early.” 

How long have you lived on your own?

“A long time.”

Do you have a family? 

At this question, Nella paused. She was in the middle of a juicy, meaty bite when Rue asked her question. Her throat constricted. Ringing intensified in her ears, the sound of heavy rain mixing with the sound of distant shouts. The Borrower had to slurp suddenly as she felt warm juices dripping down her chin from her slightly agape mouth. Hollowness filled her chest. The faint sting on her cheek was only a memory, but it still prickled as if it had just happened. Bitter, loathing eyes stared back into her own. Her reaction gave the other two pause and they looked at her expectantly, lowering their bites of food. Their eyes gleamed eagerly in the flickering fire light they’d helped create. 

Careful how you answer this, Nella. 

Nella forced the lump down her throat, clearing her mouth, and took a long drink of fresh water before awkwardly clearing her throat. “Everyone has a family.” 

“Then why’d you start choking?” asked Cerin. 

Always the skeptic, Nella thought bitterly as she shook her head. “I wasn’t choking. It was just a ridiculous question. That’s all. Everyone has a family. It’s a fact.” 

“Okay. Then… what’s your family like ?” asked Rue. The emphasis on the words were obviously trying to pry out an answer. It was Nella’s instinct to shy away from the question. She wanted to call “bedtime” and just have the two girls go to sleep. 

Unfortunately, something stopped her from dismissing the girl’s question. Those innocent features she’d become acquainted with over the past week or so beckoned her to answer. She could feel it, the scratch against the walls that she’d built that no one dared touch. Rather, no one had thought to. 

So, as she thought, there were a few things that came to the surface of the deep that Nella decided to surrender. “Well… they….” Tightness pulled at her throat. She cleared it with a quick sip of water. “They were good. My parents were good Borrowers. Lived in houses that are on the border of the woods. The ones in disrepair. Falling apart.”

“That’s how you learned all this cool stuff?” asked Rue. Cerin gave a hard nudge to her sister, silently scolding her to not interrupt with a stern look, before looking back to Nella, who swallowed dryly and nodded. 

“Yeah, they taught me everything I know,” she said softly. Nella looked at the girls, practically seeing the other questions swimming in their faces. After a few moments, she relented and continued. “Me and my siblings.”

“You had si… ow!” Rue glared at her sister, who glared right back. 

“Oi! No fighting,” Nella interjected. The girls shrank back with the shadows, which Nella addressed by taking another few pieces of dry wood and slipping them into the tray holding their fire. “Yeah, I had siblings. A little brother and a little sister.” 

Images flashed in her head of their faces. Smiling. Laughing. Diving into the pond. Climbing races. Rafter hurdles. Dinners surrounding open fire light. 

Times have changed… She looked up into the girls’ faces. Well… some things have changed. 

“What were their names? Your brother and sister?” asked Cerin. This time, Rue gave her sister a jab, and the two of them wrinkled their noses at one another before catching the warning look in Nella’s eyes. The older Borrower heard their names as if it was yesterday. She instantly recalled them. The way they looked. The way they walked. How they liked their eggs cooked on those spring mornings. Still, she couldn’t bring the names out. That’s what they were. Ust words. Just names. Somehow, they felt like more than that now. 

Curses! Why did I answer their stupid questions?! 

“So…” 

She swallowed again, feeling the flickering eyes of the girls cast in shadow still on her. It had been years since she’d said their names. Did she dare say them now? 

They’re just names… Nella. Stop being so stupid. It’s not like the names will do anything. She sat there, still frozen with indecision. Something churned in her stomach, and it wasn’t the meat. Her skin felt tingly, fingertips numb. An uncomfortable warmth filled her, while a chill rushed down her spine. 

“It… it’s okay. You don’t have to tell us,” mumbled Rue. 

Oh… cuss no. I’m not letting myself off the hook that easily. I’m no coward. They’re just names. Just say them! 

“No… it’s… fine. My brother was Jory, and my sister’s name is Fern,” said Nella. Images flashed in her head of them again. His bright eyes. Her kind ones. Their shared sandy hair contrasted with her own brown-blonde like their father. 

“I like those names,” stated Rue. 

“Me too,” agreed Cerin. An odd weight settling in her chest, Nella turned her attention to the girls. 

“What about you two? What were your parents’ names? And your sister?” Nella asked, grateful that her reaction was only half as intense as the girls’ reaction. They squirmed and glanced at each other. Legs drew up toward their chests. Their faces seemed to pale in the dim fire light and take on more shadows, exaggerating the frowns on their faces. 

“She… momma… it was Darna, and dad’s name was Maerin,” mumbled Cerin. 

“And Kira was our older sister,” Rue finished. 

Nella could see the girls were upset, and all at once there was some odd, unspoken connection between the three of them. All talked in the past. All felt the crushing feeling of those names. 

With little prompting, Nella suggested they all get some rest because the storm was most likely going to break the next day and they needed to get a move on if they wanted to make it to their next location. All agreed without words and, within minutes of the fire extinguishing, the girls were fast asleep. 

The older Borrower, however, stayed awake for a minute longer as she thought about the faces of her siblings. Fern, so sweet and kind. Her soft brown eyes always able to see right through her, breaking down any wall or barrier she tried to put up. Her brother, adventurous to the end, playing around and goofing off. Those memories that were precious had been tucked away for years, resurfacing just for a moment. 

Don’t go getting all squishy, Nella. He’s gone. She’s… well… she’s basically gone too. Just… stop thinking about them. They can’t help out here. This is about survival. I have to get these girls to the community. They’ll be safe there. 

Nella rolled over, but the minutes continued to count upward as sleep evaded her. Eventually, her eye lids heavied and she dozed into sleep, but the dreams that awaited her left the morning less than desirable. Still, the shining light of day told her the storm had passed, and now the real work could begin.

Chapter Text

Part Eight | Unclouded Journey

Light danced through the leaves, twinkling with residual raindrops from the recent deluge, as a cool breeze rushed through the forest. Streams of them refracted their sparkling light into every shadow, banishing it. From where she slept, Nella felt herself flinch awake as these beams of light found their way into the hole where the three Borrowers were sleeping. A single stretch created a chorus of cracking, making the older Borrower wince. 

Would’ve been nice to hook up my hammock. Tonight. For sure, tonight. But first… the rest of the day. 

She sat up easily, careful not to rush her spine, before scooting back and leaning against the wall of the hollow. Nella pressed into the wood, hearing three clear cracks, before pushing herself up, using the wall as both support and an additional leg, and made her way to the entrance. The slope was steep, almost forcing the Borrower to crouch on hands and knees, as she stood tall in the entrance and surveyed the land. 

The air was crisp and clean. From beyond the trees to the sky beyond, Nella watched the dark blues of night yielding to the vibrant pinks and golds of morning light. She inhaled deeply. No pollen or debris lingered from a few days ago. No odd scents of stale campfires, charcoal barbeques, or uncleaned pet excrement. Birds chirped in the higher branches as squirrels barked while chasing one another away from their perceived territory. 

The ground is probably going to be a muddy mess, but at least we’ll have water. Nella stretched her arms over her head and allowed a moment of peace before looking over her shoulder at the slumbering girls. 

Like a reflection, one was sleeping on her left and the other on her right. Both gripped the quilt they slept on, and neither stirred as the sunlight continued to brighten the horizon. She had to admit that there was something about seeing the two sleeping peacefully, but she wasn’t exactly sure what. Was the feeling peace? Curiosity? She wasn’t sure, but it stirred up an image in the back of her mind that she’d thought she’d forgotten - her sister sleeping, body curled around a bundle of blankets. 

Nella shook her head, and the image was gone. A chill ran down her spine. It was once a precious image turned sour over the years. Why was it coming up now? Just because of these two? I need to get them to the community. 

Mind made up, she stepped down back into the hollow and knelt, knee almost groaning in protest, as she gave Rue and Cerin a shake.

“Hnnngg?” Both girls curled in on themselves like little pill bugs as Cerin pried open one eye. “What’s wrong?” Sleep saturated the question. 

“Come on. Up and ready. We’re heading out today,” stated Nella before pushing herself up onto her feet and heading toward her pack. She began loading her items. The metal bottle cap was tapped out, freeing it from the ashes, and loaded into the patchwork bag along with every other item, each carefully placed for the best weight distribution. 

The girls groggily pushed themselves up and watched Nella with drowsy eyes before stretching and, without complaint to Nella’s surprise, began packing up their area. They folded their quilt, shoved thimbles and water containers into Cerin’s pack, and even wrapped up some of the extra brush just as Nella did for fire starting material later. Evidently, the days together were having a positive impact on the girls. 

Nella waited for them to finish up before pulling apart their last berry and handing both girls a piece. They ate in relative silence when Rue broke the silence with her still groggy, “Did you have any dreams?” 

“I don’t dream,” Nella said. Juice burst from the bite she took, spurting down her front. She mopped up her chin with the back of her hand before spotting the quizzical look in the girls’ eyes. 

“You don’t dream?” asked Cerin. “Not about flying or finding a giant plate of cake? Nothing?” 

“No. Haven’t for years,” she affirmed. Nella rotated the fruit in her hand and took a careful bite. 

“Oh, well, I had a dream that the leaves on the trees were massive parachutes and we were flying around with them. We were jumping from tree to tree in some kind of race,” yawned Rue. The sides of her lips were already stained from the few bites she’d taken. 

“I didn’t dream,” grumbled Cerin. 

“Well, worry about that later. Right now, I need to talk plans. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover today and we’re not going to be in the hollow anymore. So, the plan is we climb down from the tree and start heading east toward the other side of the lake. I’ll show you before we get down from here, but you two will need to climb  down yourselves. 

“I know, it’s scary; but you still have to learn this skill at some point or another. Might as well be now,” pointed out Nella as she saw the girls’ uncertainty. “I’ll teach you two different methods of descending the line and I’ll go last in case your hands begin to slip since I’m tying us all together. And your arms shouldn’t because your legs should be doing all the work. Now. Let’s get started.” 

Nella fastened a test line in the opening of the hollow and demonstrated the two different leg holds she knew. One she called “The Stomp” because you basically stomped the line on top of your foot after wrapping it around your foot. The other was “The Snake,” and the one that she preferred because of the way the rope wrapped up and around the leg, pressing on the top of the foot or letting up to speed up or slow down. Both girls easily chose “The Snake,” detesting the name, and practiced a few times holding themselves on the line and then descending. Nella even managed to get the two of them to climb, barely inching their way up the line, before determining they were ready. 

“Alright, just like we practiced,” she huffed, clinging onto the entrance with one hand while she dislodged her hook from the hollow entrance. 

“How did you get so strong? Like, holding yourself up by one arm like that?” asked Rue. Nella gave a shrug and flexed her muscles. 

“Lots of work and practice. You should’ve seen me when I was your ages,” replied the older Borrower. 

“Did you get so strong by living outside all your life?” Cerin chimed in. “Like, in the old houses and in the forest?” 

“Yes. Out here, you have to be strong to survive. Speaking of, it’s time. No more procrastinating. To the line. Remember to communicate constantly on your way down,” Nella stated as she began wrapping the rope around Rue and then Cerin, finally wrapping it around herself. 

Ideally, she would climb down to avoid losing her line and the hook, but this time was different. The girls obviously didn’t have the same endurance she’d built up from years of agility. Climbing down was out of the question, especially without a tether and because of how high they were up in the tree. 

Next time for sure. Can’t have them relying on me to climb everywhere first. We’ll worry about that next though. 

Nella finished securing the girls, noticing the silence that radiated off of them. It was tangible. They were scared. It was understandable, the fear, but also unreasonable in its own way. Like a memory viewed through water, Nella vaguely remembered what that feeling of fear was like. The apprehension. The anticipation. The nerves. 

She wasn’t sure what came over her, but Nella suddenly found herself at the girls’ sides, one hand on each of their shoulders as they peered out of the hollow and at the ground far below. The ridges of the bark made it seem like the trunk was moving, and the sheer distance felt impossible. Under her touch, however, both Rue and Cerin looked up at Nella as their shivers eased. 

“Ready?” she asked. A timid “yes” was her response. “Good. Cerin, you go first. Grab the line and make sure you secure it. Remember - let your legs do the work. Okay? Arms are for attachment.” 

“Okay.” Cerin’s usual biting tone, direct and firm, was somehow a little softer. Timid, maybe? 

“Hey,” Nella caught Cerin’s eye as she stepped up to the ledge. “One little movement at a time. Grip tight with your legs and don’t stare at the ground. Glimpse. You’ve got this.” The child nodded shakily, undoubtedly uneasy, but gripped the line tight and pinched it the way Nella taught her. She practically had to scrape herself off of the side of the hollow’s ledge to make it to the side of the tree. All the while, Nella checked the line and made sure it was nice and secure on herself. 

Rue was next. The younger Borrower child didn’t say anything and shuffled to the edge. Her apprehension was tangible. It was like heat radiating off of the pavement on a summer day. It was suffocating and even made Nella feel a bit uneasy. 

Was she pushing them too hard too soon? This was a tree afterall. It was a long way down. They were uneasy around heights and had only been training for a few days. 

Nella didn’t have time to second guess herself though. Suddenly, the older Borrower blinked and Rue was over the ledge, top of her head disappearing slowly as she began descending the line. The tug at her hips told her the girls were still secured, and so she braced against the line and kept her hook and feet firmly planted. 

The subtle vibrations on the rope were almost soothing for the older Borrower woman, like it was telling her she’d done a decent job making sure these two didn’t plummet to their demise. Her arms grew heavy with each passing moment purely from keeping herself tense and alert should the girls begin to slip. 

Thoughts began to run rampant in her head. What if the girls fell and the line broke? What if something was there on the ground that got to them before she did? The more she thought, the tighter her chest became. The temptation of taking a step forward to look over the edge just to set eyes on the girls grew exponentially with each passing moment. 

It’s been too long. What’s taking them? Did they stop? They’re not pranking me, right? I swear, they’d better… 

Relief swelled inside her when the weight eased once, then twice, followed by three hard yanks. 

“Well, seems like that turned out alright,” Nella mumbled to herself while hoisting her pack up onto her shoulders. She glanced around at the hollow they’d temporarily made their home before releasing all of her hooks and beginning the nerve wracking climb down. One hand. One hand. One foot. One foot. The pattern was an easy one, but somehow this time felt different. 

What’s with me today? 

Nella had never been so relieved to set her feet onto solid ground, and even more so when she spotted the girls standing nearby, crouching by the roots and overgrown grass. She felt the remnants of a smile on her face before she realized what was going on and, shaking her head, wrapped up her line up and secured it onto the side of her pack. 

“Ready?” 

The two nodded. 

“Good. Then let’s go.” 

The three of them set off. It felt odd, like they’d done it for years. It was as if that short time together had tapped into something. Something more. Nella couldn’t place it, nor would she dedicate any speck of thought that was free to figuring it out. There were dozens of other things to keep her occupied, but admittedly the relief she felt when seeing the girls safe lingered, spreading warm fingers across her chest. 

Odd. I don’t like it. 

The girls fell into step behind Nella, hardly keeping pace and finding moments to skip or bound on rocks and stones that they passed, as they carried on. While walking, Nella noticed that the girls began imitating her movements when she paused and observed something. The slickness of the moss on the rocks before stepping up on them. Glancing toward the sky for any odd shadows. Crouching and darting to roots and arching branches before examining the areas around them. Nella wasn’t sure when the girls decided to start imitating her, but it was making this unclouded journey all the more pleasant. 

It wasn’t to say that the two youngsters had completely changed. Their questions and banter returned after a few hours of moving along the terrain as Nella continued to lead them toward their final destination. 

What other things do you know? 

How long did it take you to learn all of these things? 

Did you figure out all of this on your own? 

She heftily sighed and responded in short bursts when an idea suddenly popped into her head. Perhaps it was the incessant questions about her memories and knowledge that some dusty memory revealed itself. 

They were passing by some long, thin blades of grass when Nella paused. She removed her back blade made from that once rusty razor fragment and cut the blade of grass right at the tip, just barely the length of her hand. She peeled the strips along the length and handed one to each of the girls and then kept one for herself. 

“Here. I’m going to teach you something. This is only meant for times alone or when you know you won’t be heard,” muttered Nella. And this should give me a little break from those questions. The older Borrower woman took the fragment of the blade of grass in her hands, pressing the top in between her thumbs and the base of the grass blade along the base of her thumbs, and pressed the backs of her thumbs to her lips. With a quick blow, the grass vibrated and buzzed in an odd whistle. 

The girls’ eyes grew wide with fascination and joy as they began attempting the motion themselves, muttering and giggling as they attempted it themselves. 

“Woah! How did you learn that?” asked Rue. Does it matter?  

“Wait! How did you get it to do the thing? And how did you get it to stay so straight?” Cerin asked, wrestling the blade of grass in between her fingers. It continued to flop and wrinkle as she tried to maneuver it. 

“Focus on pinching the bottom and then inch it up with your fingers.” The older Borrower thought she was so clever at giving the girls a task that she even said it with a smile. In her mind, she didn’t think they’d figure it out; at least, not quickly. 

She was very wrong. 

Within ten minutes, both Borrower children had not only figured out how to make the grass whistle, but they were also figuring out pitch and duration and began playing some tunes they said they were familiar with. Nella was on constant surveillance to make sure the new introduction of sound wasn’t going to attract anything or anyone, but luck was on their side. Nothing in the sky and the recent deluge of rain kept the air and underbrush clear. 

It wasn’t until the second hour of them taking turns guessing different songs that Nella called for a time-out on the grass blowing to have some lunch. It was the only moment of quiet Nella had for the remainder of the day. Though the girls had stopped asking Nella direct questions, they began talking amongst themselves. They were completely nonsensical, and Nella was having a hard time figuring out why they would ask one another such ridiculous questions. 

What do you think that cloud looks like? 

If you could try any human food, what would you want to try? 

What do you think that’s made of? 

Would you rather have a pet mouse or a pet dragon fly? 

Where do you think humans get their things from? 

This question was one that drew Nella into the conversation, much to her own dismay. 

“What do you mean where do you think humans get their things from?” she asked, pausing mid-step as the three of them climbed the mismatch stones by the open drain pipe. 

“Well,” puffed Rue as she attempted to catch her breath. “We borrow from humans, but where do they get their things from? Do they have someone they borrow from? Or do they go somewhere to get pins and food and all that?” 

“Why? Does it matter where they get their things from?” asked Nella. Rue and Cerin shrugged at the same time, almost as if it were planned cartoonishly. 

“I don’t know. Don’t you ever wonder?” asked Rue. 

The older Borrower wasn’t sure how to respond. Sure, she remembered wondering these things at one point or another in her life, but she’d decided long ago that wondering those things didn’t serve her any purpose. As long as humans had things to borrow from, what did it matter where those things came from? And she lived outside! 

“I… just… let’s just focus on the task at hand. We’re going to be making camp over there. Do you know why?” asked Nella. Both girls shook their heads, but remained quiet and attentive. “Three main reasons. One, we’re close to clean running water but far enough away that we’re not going to get washed away. Two, it’s hidden in the shade and not noticeable at a distance. Three, we’re far enough away from any paths that humans won’t come across us. Now, I’m going to show you how to put up a proper hammock and then we’re washing off in the pipe over here.” 

Nella led the charge once again and showed the girls how she usually set up her camp. She crouched and showed them how to feel the moisture in the dirt and told them about how keeping everything dry was a top priority when surviving outside in the wilds. Nella described now mildew would ruin their blankets, bags, and food within a very short time and demonstrated a few tricks she’d learned like using sticks to pin her bag against a tree or setting some small pebbles up in the sun to dry before placing her pack on top. 

Each task was followed by little hums of acknowledgment or a few questions while they worked. When asked why they were starting so early, Nella explained that setting up camp took more time than they would think and that they’d see soon enough. 

With everything set up, Nella showed the girls how to quickly rinse in the sun warmed drain pipe and helped scrub out some of the mud stains they had in their clothes. The sparkling water was cool and refreshing in the summer air, which had only now started to become uncomfortable given the recent rains. 

The sun began to set, but their camp was prepared and ready as they came back to warm themselves by the fire Nella had prepared earlier. 

“You were right. Can you imagine doing all of this in the dark?” asked Cerin. 

“Yeah, that would be impossible,” mumbled Rue. She tore at a piece of meat in her hands as she ran her fingers through her wet hair. 

“It’s not impossible, especially if you pack everything the same way every time, which is something you two need to start doing. Everything should be in the same place that you left it in so that you can rely on muscle memory to retrieve it, even in the dark. We’ll have to practice that at some point, but not today,” sighed Nella with a stretch. “Until then, finish eating and crawl into your hammock.” 

Nella had helped the girls prop up their blankets so they wouldn’t be soaking all night in the mud. Also, it would be a shame to see such a lovely quilt handmade with love get so muddy, especially since it was undoubtedly made by their mother or grandmother. It was a fragment of them the girls carried with them. 

Shame it’s so heavy, but they’ll learn one day. Can’t always carry everything with us. They should keep it. Besides, it’ll be good for the winter once we’re back at the community. They’ll be able to keep all of their things and be comfortable. 

“Ready for bed?” Cerin’s voice drew in Nella’s attention. She nodded and nodded toward the hammocks. 

“Yep. Let’s curl up. What do we do at the end of the night? Remember?” 

“We… um… put out the fire?” asked Rue. 

“Yes, and?” 

“Pull our equipment up off of the ground. Food goes higher so things can’t get to it and is put a little further away so we can react,” Cerin finished. 

“Correct. Now, let’s get it done.” 

And so it was done. A couple of weeks with these two and they were already starting to adopt her lifestyle. At the very least, they were adapting well. Nella slipped into her hammock and stared at the root wad above as the final doused embers of their fire attempted to maintain their glow. While she drifted off to sleep, she could hear the girls talking quietly amongst themselves. Fragments of conversation made it to her. 

“Maybe she’s okay… she’s smart. She…”

“Rue…”

“I just… I miss them…”

“Me too… It all happened so fast.”

“Yeah…”

“... Came out of nowhere… I… I still hear it.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t want to go to sleep.”

“Dreams?”

“Yeah.” 

“Me too.” 

“Don’t worry. We have each other. We’ll… we’ll be alright.” 

“... what they all said.” 

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” 

Love? That won’t help you survive. That’ll only get you in trouble. Shoot… just caring will get you in trouble. Just puts everyone in danger. Look after yourself. Teach the skills you need to survive and keep moving.

Chapter Text

Part Nine | Storms of the Mind

A brilliant flash. The crack that followed made her wince. Another one like that and her eardrums would burst. Everything was a blur, like staring out a smudged pane of glass. The voices were delayed as bodies moved around her. 

“Watch out!”

“We’re off course! The water’s taking us the wrong way! Hold on!”

“Pull harder!” 

Nella felt sluggish. Each desperate attempt to move faster only seemed to speed up the world around her. Breath came raggedly as she grabbed the rudder arm and shoved with three others. Water poured over the edge. Her feet began to slip, but she dug in her heels and squeezed the rudder until her muscles cramped. 

“Nella!” Her name, distant, echoed as loud as the thunder around her. A streak of light illuminated the sky, briefly lifting the veil of darkness to reveal a face she’d known all her life. She was close to the ledge. Too close. One leg was over the edge, eyes fixed on something beyond that was quickly vanishing in the darkness.  

Suddenly, Nella was moving in between the raindrops. Her arms flew around the woman’s midsection. She arrived in time to see a small, bobbing head vanishing beneath the raging waves. 

No. 

“We have to get him! Let me go!” 

The words came out of her, choked and bitter, as she turned her head away. 

“It’s too late!” Nella’s throat constricted. Too much had been taken already. She couldn’t lose her sister as well. “We can’t do anything for him now. You’ll drown if you go overboard.” 

“I don’t care! We have to go back! Zeke! Let me go!” 

She was shaking all over. Every movement was like a stab to the heart. Nella wanted to go. She wanted to protect him. She wanted to protect her. All of them. 

Why? 

Why were they cursed to live like this? 

Why couldn’t things be simple? 

Just once… 

“No! No! We have to go back!” 

“It’s too late! I’m sorry! He’s gone. He’s gone!” 

In a burst of light, the ship and her sister vaporized. They were nothing more than mist. Her sister’s earth shattering sobs wracked her body. The storm had dissipated, and now she stood in dark silence. Nella, shivering, dared to open her eyes to the next, horrifying scene in front of her. 

Now, rather than being slowed by the rain, she was rooted to the spot. The wooden rafters grew over her feet as she attempted to squirm away. Nothing worked. The older Borrower woman watched, bound in silence, as a young Borrower boy sprinted toward the nearby ledge. 

“Jory! Don’t!”

“Oh, don’t be such a worry wart!” 

Nella knew what was coming. She opened her mouth to scream. Her voice caught somewhere in the air just beyond her lips. Her raw, guttural scream of warning went unheeded as she watched Jory step onto the fractured board. 

It happened so slowly. 

The board giving way. 

His look, once triumphant and filled with confidence, fell into panic as he plummeted down… down… down….

Nella couldn’t stop her mind’s eye as it looked down at her brother’s broken body, crimson stained splinters protruding from his body. A silent scream ripped out of her and, suddenly, her eyes flashed open and she was bolt upright in her hammock. It took her Borrower reflexes to keep her from flipping out onto the ground harshly. 

A cold sweat drenched the older Borrower woman’s body as she sucked in the cool night air. Shoulders shuddered. Chest ached. It was like she could feel the places that were broken within her own ribcage. Nella couldn’t control herself as she began to tremble. Her arms wrapped around her like some kind of makeshift blanket as she stared into the darkness of the root fortress around her. 

I… I don’t dream… 

What on earth was that?! A nightmare? Frack that. 

Why start dreaming again now? What on earth caused it?

Nella attempted some breathing techniques she’d learned years ago. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. She reached up and wiped her brow with the palm of her hand, which followed along the side of her head and down her braid. With each pounding heartbeat, Nella felt herself calming as the vividness of the dream finally began to subside. She listened to the crickets and frogs singing and those immense winged bugs thrumming along with their noise drowning hum. The moments passed. The older Borrower woman’s shoulders slumped as she forced the relived memories from her eyes. 

Her peace, sadly, was short lived. Just as she moved to lay back down to salvage what little sleep she could, she heard a soft whimper and then a soft cry. Instinct drew her eyes to the girls’ sleeping forms and, eyes adjusted to the dark, watched the girls twitching and whimpering. Tightness constricted her chest, though she wasn’t sure why her body reacted like that. She wasn’t the one in pain. 

One look and she suspected the girls were experiencing the same thing she was - a nightmare. 

Perhaps it was compassion or sheer practicality of receiving a full night’s rest that drove Nella out of her hammock, but she blinked and was suddenly at the girls’ sides shaking their shoulders to wake them. 

Rue shot up immediately, shouting, “Dad!” with her arm outstretched as if reaching for the person she called for. Cerin just gasped and curled inward, head turning away as she glanced up and noticed Nella as she wiped her eyes. In what little moonlight there was on this clear, quiet night, Nella could see fragments of fear still etched into the girls’ faces. 

“I… oh…” Rue curled in on herself with a wet sniffle. “I… I’m sorry. D-did I wake you?” 

“No, you?” Cerin asked. The youngest shook her head, then both sets of eyes were on Nella. 

“Uh… no. I… was already up. You two having nightmares?” Nella already knew the answer, but felt obligated to ask. Both nodded timidly. Something in their moonlit eyes spoke to Nella. It pleaded silently to ask - to comfort. 

I’m not equipped for this, Nella thought as she looked into those youthful eyes timidly looking up at her, still lined with tears. It pained her to admit to herself that the girls were learning about her. After such a short amount of time, they were figuring out her patterns and what she would or wouldn’t be willing to do. They wouldn’t ask her to comfort them, though they were both in desperate need of it. 

Nella dug the tips of her middle fingers into her eyes, prying the sleep from them, as she retrieved the slightly warm pan of ashes and struck up another small fire. Some deep seeded memory reminded her that the darkness of nightmares could be chased away by the warmth of a fire and the comfort of a hug, but dwelling on it would only make her chest feel tighter. 

One spark. Then another. Soon, the roots were aglow with a small campfire and Nella was crouched on her plastic covering as to not soil her sleeping wear with the damp earth. The girls watched like silent little owls, eyes wide and curious as they watched their caretaker work. 

When Nella finally sat, they readjusted to face her, and shared a look of surprise as Nella asked, “What were your dreams about?” 

Both exchanged uncertain glances, Cerin finally gesturing for Rue to go first, but she shook her head. Whatever it was obviously made her afraid, so Cerin piped up. 

“It was… of Kira. Her braiding our hair. Singing. I… I looked around and she wasn’t there. We were in some massive field… running,” mumbled Cerin. “I saw a sh-sh-shadow… a-a-and I was running to her. I tried shouting, but the shadow came down and grabbed her. It flew away into the sun, and… I couldn’t… I didn’t… know what to do.” 

Nella remembered that she’d seen the feathers all around and took a wild guess that Cerin’s memory had only adjusted the scenario barely. Why the mind did what it did, she’d never know. It was when Rue began to speak that Nella wished she did understand why things worked the way they did.  

“I… well… it was… of what happened to dad,” she mumbled. “And mom.” 

Frack, I hate this. Can’t she just keep going with the details? I’ve got to pry it out of her? 

“All of it?” Cerin asked, and the young Borrower child nodded. 

On the bright side, I’ll finally figure out what happened to these two and their family. 

“What happened?” asked Nella. 

Rue squirmed, tugging the blanket further over her shoulder despite the warmth of the fire and relative heat of the evening humidity. 

“I… I saw mom step out from the roots. She heard something and went to check on dad. That’s w-when…” Rue sniffled. “It… it came out of nowhere. Th-this-s m-m-massive ball. It… She… it hit her.” 

Oh gosh… Nella could practically see it between the gaps. Even a small ball that humans played with was massive and, with the right force, would send a Borrower flying or crush them in the blink of an eye depending on the ball. She could see a Borrower’s body twisting in mid-air after the impact, flying high and limp like a doll. 

Rue’s hands slipped over her ears as she whimpered, “I can still hear her breathing.” 

Oh… what?... hear her… you mean she didn’t die immediately? And the girls were there to see it? 

“And the dog… its breathing… when it got him…” Rue’s face contorted in the flickering firelight into pure anguish. Cerin leaned over and pulled her sister close, but was obviously distraught herself. 

Nella hadn’t realized she was shaking as she listened to the girls. They’d witnessed a near total annihilation of their family, all within a short amount of time. The older Borrower knew this, but now she understood how it actually happened. Her heart clenched. No one, at least no one she knew, deserved to be eaten by a dog or crushed by a carelessly thrown toy or carried away by a bird. 

Something - a feeling or otherwise - compelled Nella forward. It was as if emotion alone drew her close to the girls as she wrapped her arms around the two of them, pulling them close to her. Only a moment of stunned silence followed as both girls completely surrendered to their emotions. Momentary bravery melted away into billowing tears, soaking Nella worse than the recent rain. 

What on earth just happened? How am I over here? How… did I know this would make it better? Or is it? 

Nella readjusted herself so she could sit in between the girls, forcing them to pull away only for a moment, as she crawled into the makeshift hammock. The sticks held firm, though still creaked and groaned under her added weight. 

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” Nella mumbled as she kept the girls close. Their tiny arms wrapped around her feebly. Sobs muffled and soon quieted in the folds of her shirt and in the crevasses of her arms. “Close your eyes. Get some sleep. It’s not day yet.” 

“I… d-don’t… w-w-wanna,” Rue sputtered. 

“You need to get more sleep, otherwise you’re not going to be able to function tomorrow. We’ve got a lot of gro-”

“Would you stay? If we slept, would you stay? Here?” Rue interrupted. 

“To keep us safe?” Cerin chimed in. 

Nella’s instinct was to remark about how her being there wouldn’t stop bad dreams. She wanted to tell the girls that they were too old for her to be rocking them to sleep. 

But, “Sure, just close your eyes,” was what came out. 

Nella leaned back and all at once became a body pillow for the two young Borrower children in her care. Their little bodies curled in and around her frame, fitting like puzzle pieces. Nella huffed a sigh and glanced down at the two of them. A pang hit her chest again. 

You already understand the harshness of the world. Is that why you ask your silly questions? To stay positive? To keep going? Not out of habit, but out of curiosity? Desire to learn more about the world? 

Nella felt her own eyes drooping as the rhythmic breathing of the two at her sides lulled her senses. She forced herself to stay awake however. 

She did promise to keep the two of them safe after all.