60th of Summer, 515 AV
Normally, Kitshoon loved the rain. She had been raised to praise Makutsi each and every time water fell from the sky, as it was a glorious gift that gave the inhabitants of Mizahar the ability to grow food, and therefore, it gave them life.
But this? This was a bit much.
It had been raining for at least two days straight, and it showed no signs of letting up. Though it had been a wonderful reprieve from the blistering heat at first, it was well past that stage now. Now, it was a nuisance. The steady fall of rain had grown into a full-blown storm, with winds so monstrous that several homes and businesses had been damaged. Rain swamped the city, filling and overfilling any pocket where the water might gather. Pots that had held flowers were nothing but birdbaths now. The streets served as streams and the ocean tide was higher than ever, leaving little to no beach.
All those who were sane had taken shelter and hunkered down to weather the storm. Men, women, children, even pets hid from the ominous-looking skies. Unfortunately, those without homes also needed refuge. Not people; no, all people had found a place to stay, even if only an inn. But the rat population of Zeltiva? They had to impose upon others.
There had been problems with rats since the storm had begun. They had invaded any dry areas they could find, and made their temporary homes indoors. Kitshoon was fully aware of this. But somehow, when she saw the first tail disappear under her armchair, and heard the skittering of feet on the hard floor, she was still surprised.
Surprised enough, even, to let out a shriek.
Kitshoon hastily climbed atop her table, perching there, watching for the next vermin to creep out into the open. She couldn't count how many there were, as they kept moving, and worry clouded her mind. Was there one rat under the armchair and one behind the bed? Or were they one in the same? Were there more she couldn't see? How long had they been there?
A chill ran through Kitshoon's body at the thought of sharing her home with the rats. Their long, ugly tails and beady eyes were the thing of nightmares, and their tiny squeaks were chilling to the girl. She knew she would have to face the rats eventually, but she did not have to face them alone. Still atop her table, Kitshoon took a deep breath to gather her courage. She gave the floor a once-over to check for pests, and then, with her heart in her throat, lept for the door.
The Chaktawe rushed into the swamped streets. She ran against the onslaught of rain, trying her best not to slip on the smooth ground. Turning her head so that the harsh wind would not be in her face, she headed off in the direction she thought her mother's house would be. But the downpour was still going strong, and it was difficult to see where she was going.
After being outside for what seemed like bells, but was probably only chimes, Kitshoon reasoned that she must be getting close now. The girl nervously began to peer into windows, desperately trying to find the home of someone she knew. So far, nothing. She didn't even recognize any of the houses nearby.
Kitshoon grabbed the corner of her shirt and wrung it as she trekked on- partially to get the water out, but mostly because she was anxious. What would she do if she couldn't find her mother's house? Or more importantly, what if she couldn't find her way home?
Makutsi, please, she thought, her face warped with nervousness, Give me shelter.
But this? This was a bit much.
It had been raining for at least two days straight, and it showed no signs of letting up. Though it had been a wonderful reprieve from the blistering heat at first, it was well past that stage now. Now, it was a nuisance. The steady fall of rain had grown into a full-blown storm, with winds so monstrous that several homes and businesses had been damaged. Rain swamped the city, filling and overfilling any pocket where the water might gather. Pots that had held flowers were nothing but birdbaths now. The streets served as streams and the ocean tide was higher than ever, leaving little to no beach.
All those who were sane had taken shelter and hunkered down to weather the storm. Men, women, children, even pets hid from the ominous-looking skies. Unfortunately, those without homes also needed refuge. Not people; no, all people had found a place to stay, even if only an inn. But the rat population of Zeltiva? They had to impose upon others.
There had been problems with rats since the storm had begun. They had invaded any dry areas they could find, and made their temporary homes indoors. Kitshoon was fully aware of this. But somehow, when she saw the first tail disappear under her armchair, and heard the skittering of feet on the hard floor, she was still surprised.
Surprised enough, even, to let out a shriek.
Kitshoon hastily climbed atop her table, perching there, watching for the next vermin to creep out into the open. She couldn't count how many there were, as they kept moving, and worry clouded her mind. Was there one rat under the armchair and one behind the bed? Or were they one in the same? Were there more she couldn't see? How long had they been there?
A chill ran through Kitshoon's body at the thought of sharing her home with the rats. Their long, ugly tails and beady eyes were the thing of nightmares, and their tiny squeaks were chilling to the girl. She knew she would have to face the rats eventually, but she did not have to face them alone. Still atop her table, Kitshoon took a deep breath to gather her courage. She gave the floor a once-over to check for pests, and then, with her heart in her throat, lept for the door.
The Chaktawe rushed into the swamped streets. She ran against the onslaught of rain, trying her best not to slip on the smooth ground. Turning her head so that the harsh wind would not be in her face, she headed off in the direction she thought her mother's house would be. But the downpour was still going strong, and it was difficult to see where she was going.
After being outside for what seemed like bells, but was probably only chimes, Kitshoon reasoned that she must be getting close now. The girl nervously began to peer into windows, desperately trying to find the home of someone she knew. So far, nothing. She didn't even recognize any of the houses nearby.
Kitshoon grabbed the corner of her shirt and wrung it as she trekked on- partially to get the water out, but mostly because she was anxious. What would she do if she couldn't find her mother's house? Or more importantly, what if she couldn't find her way home?
Makutsi, please, she thought, her face warped with nervousness, Give me shelter.