Chapter 3

***

“May the Green Mother watch over our family and may our harvest be plentiful.” Father spoke the prayer, squeezing his injured thumb so that a few beads of blood dropped onto the soil. The scarlet liquid instantly disappeared, as if the very earth was eagerly pulling it deeper and out of sight.

“We give to the Green Mother, and the Green Mother gives back.” Danica murmured, squeezing blood from her own pricked thumb. Her vision blurred from unshed tears, pain was not something she was accustomed to.

She pursed her lips when she noted how her blood settled on the soil for a few moments before grudgingly seeping down into the dirt. The Green Mother didn’t seem to like her blood as much as her Dad’s. Maybe Dad’s blood tasted better? She wrinkled her nose at the thought, blood tasted gross, she didn’t get why the Green Mother wanted blood in the first place. Maybe next year they could try leaving food as an offering instead? Eating the same thing all the time sounded horrible.

For a moment she felt the slightest tremor in the ground, so quick and subtle that she wasn’t sure if she had just imagined it or not.

“Alright, let's start plowing the field.” Papa wrapped his still-bleeding finger in a clean cloth.

Danica nodded and did the same with her own injured digit. Wincing in pain the entire time. Barring the few times that she accidentally bit her tongue, the only other time she could recall being in pain was when she was six, and one of the horses had kicked her in the chest, leaving prominent bruises. She’d been inconsolable about the whole affair, crying for days from the lingering aches.

Now that she was eleven, she was expected to join in the yearly offerings. Hence her injured finger. With nothing in the Farm being able to draw her blood, she had to bite down on her finger until her sharp canine pierced her flesh. Thankfully, she only needed a few drops, so she hadn't needed to savage her finger, just a little nip was enough.

This season was going to start a little differently from the others. Gorgo, their only working Ox had passed during the winter from sickness, so they had no draft animal strong enough to pull the plow through the packed dirt with its many root systems interwoven through it.

For a normal Farm, that would have been a devastating blow. For Danica, it just meant her family had no choice but to finally relent and let her pull the plow like she’d always asked to do. To them, pulling the plow was back-breaking work and they didn't want her to feel pressured into doing it. Danica, on the other hand, saw it as great fun, it wasn’t often that she got to do something that actually pushed her limits. Especially in the last few years.

Her eyes widened in excitement when on her first attempt to push the plow it hardly budged an inch. Planting her feet more firmly, she put her full body into the movement. Her shoes tore along the seams, leaving her barefooted, but she paid it no mind. Instead, she simply stepped out of the leathery wreck and used the situation to her advantage, digging her toes into the dirt to apply even greater leverage. The plow shuddered under her grip as she took her first step forwards, the entire apparatus groaned and creaked, but most importantly, it moved.

After a few minutes of plowing, she could feel her muscles begin to burn ever so slightly. She almost laughed out loud at the realization. It had been so long since anything had truly pushed her to put in true effort. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

By the time she finished the field, her breathing came out a bit harsher and her heart felt like a beat a little faster.

She frowned when she realized her work was done. But even still, she savored it while she could. With how fast her gifts grew, it was unlikely that she would be able to get the same rush the following year.

***

Danica stared at the chirping little creature. It wasn’t very cute, all pink and wrinkly like it was. The eyes were still screwed shut.

She glanced up at the tree it had fallen from. Climbing it would have been the easiest thing she had done all week, but she knew that if she did, the parent birds would abandon the nest. That particular species was known for abandoning its young at the best of times, so leaving her scent all over the place was not an option.

She bit her lip in thought. Should she kill it? It would be kinder, wouldn’t it? The pink little creature chirped louder as if it could hear her thoughts.

“Alright, fine.” She sighed, picking up the fragile hatchling.

It shivered and squirmed in her hand. Doing its best to throw itself from her hand. “I thought you wanted to live?” Danica shook her head in disbelief. She placed her other hand over the suicidal creature, spreading her fingers out to form a cage around it.

By the time she arrived at the house, the bird seemed to run out of steam, finally resting in her palm. Its chirps came out much softer.

Jason hopped the fence to the cow pasture, excitedly greeting her.

“Hey, Jason, you wanna see your new friend?”

Jason nosed at her hand furiously, tail wagging at high speed.

“Alright, alright!” She laughed, slowly opening her hand to reveal the hatchling. “This little guy is gonna be living with us for-” Jason lunged.

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She barely managed to catch Jason by the scruff. He whined piteously. “No! It’s too young, you can’t be so rough!” She said the words slowly and sternly. Only setting him back on the floor when he stopped fighting her. Now much more cautious, she slowly inched the terrified bird towards Jason, watching for any sudden moves with her hand firmly gripping his neck.

“This is a friend, alright? You need to go slow.” She whispered, hoping her soft tone would get him to mimic her.

Slowly Jason sniffed the bird in her palm, his tongue came out to tentatively lick the hatchling. After the first lick didn’t result in him being pulled away, he seemed to gain confidence and started to slobber all over the traumatized creature.

She laughed, pulling the bird out of the dog’s reach. Jason tried to climb up her to get at the bird, whining softly.

She rubbed his head lovingly, “I know buddy, but the little guy needs to breathe.” She stopped to think, “And probably eat some food...” What did baby birds even eat? Mashed worms? Crushed berries? Both?

Danica shrugged and continued into the house. Finding an empty bowl, she placed a rag inside it and set the bird down. The sloped wooden walls worked well to keep it contained, and the rag made for a soft and warm bed.

She needed to get food and quickly, Danica had no idea how long that bird had been away from its parents. She pulled Jason outside with her before closing the door. She had a fear that he may get a bit too rowdy with the delicate bird if she left him alone with it.

Finding worms was easy as she could displace large quantities of earth with her bare hands, but getting the berries took a bit longer as she had to leap off into the forest to forage some. All in all, it only took a few minutes from start to finish.

With a fistful of berries and worms in each hand, she opened the door. Her parents stood around the bowl, staring down at it with some confusion.

“Uhh, I can explain?” She cursed to herself, she should have asked her parents first.

“Unless your diet has suddenly changed in the last hour, I think it's pretty clear what is happening.” Her mother said wryly.

Blushing, she defended herself, “The bird fell out of its nest and kept chirping, and I couldn't just leave the little guy-”

“It’s fine,” Papa stopped her tirade before she could get worked up. “We already raise plenty of chicken, what’s one more bird?”

“Really?” She asked slowly, looking between her Mom and Dad with more than a little suspicion. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No.” Her mother shook her head, “But I was certainly a little confused when I found Jason sitting by the door looking so anxious and found a baby bird on the dining table.”

“Sorry, I was meaning to tell you, but no one was home when I got here. And I didn’t know when the bird last ate, so I figured that was more important.”

Her parents nodded at her explanation, looking pleased with her reasoning.

The slimy worms wriggled in her hands, almost like a reminder. Unfortunately, her Mama was rather firm on her not putting worms in their mortar and pestle. Rubbing her hands together in a circular fashion like she was forming a ball of dough was effective in creating a Worm paste, but the sensation left something to be desired. She wrinkled her nose fiercely at the feeling of the worms all but popping between her palms.

Thankfully, mulching the berries was a much less nauseating affair.

The baby bird eagerly swallowed the little piece of worm goop she fed it. Its vivid bright red mouth opened wide for another greedy bite, chirping insistently at her.

***

SHNNK.

The shears made an audible grating sound as they grudgingly cleaved through her hair. She already knew that by the end of it, she would need to completely rework the edge.

Danica already had nightmares that one day, not even the heavy-duty farming shears they used would be strong enough to cut her hair. That her hair would just continue to grow and grow unimpeded forever, until her blonde locks dragged on the floor for miles behind her.

As it stood, it was only her monstrous strength that allowed the blades to be forced through her thick hair. Her dad could technically do it too, but the muscles in his arms bulged and strained when he squeezed the handles together, leading to the cuts being very rough and uneven.

When she finished, her hair was trimmed so that it barely touched her chin. Both she and her Mom would have liked it longer, but without a comb to speak of, this was the longest she could make it before it became too prone to tangles.

She inspected the edge of the shears, wincing at the sight of all the burrs and nicks her hair had made. A tedious half-hour by the grindstone and it was as good as new. Her arms may never get tired from the repetitive motions, but it still required diligence and effort to ensure she held the proper angle the whole way through for both blades of the shear. And the constant scraping of metal on stone made her sensitive ears ache horribly.

In only two months' time, they were going to travel to Dordan for the Moonfall festival. She had to make sure she looked her best for the big city folk. She tugged on the outfit her Mama had painstakingly sown her, it was a beautiful cream-colored dress with intricate red stitching on the hem, the kind of dress that had no place being on a rough and tumble farmgirl like herself. Apparently, her mother had been working on it on and off for a few seasons. As she was a growing girl, her mom had her test fit it every week to make sure the sizing was still right.

“Oh! Look at you, my beautiful daughter!” Mama gushed, glomping her the moment Danica walked through the door. “We’ll need to beat all the boys in Dordan off you with a stick.”

Danica blushed, pressing her head into her mother's stomach to hide her embarrassment. “Mama!” She whined.

“We won’t need a stick.” Her Papa laughed, waving his wife's teasing aside. She’d heard too many horror stories from Morgana about her own father's reaction to the taboo ‘B’ word, and Danica hoped that her Dad wasn’t like that. Living on an isolated farm their whole lives meant that the subject of boys coming up in everyday conversation was a rare thing. So far though, his reaction gave her hope.

He continued in that same amused tone. “Our Dani can snap any boy who bothers her like a stick.” Why did he sound so happy? She couldn't help but wonder as she stared at his sharper-than-usual grin.

“Dad! I’m not gonna hurt a boy for talking to me!” She recoiled at the thought.

Papa just smiled at her, warmth blazing in his eyes. “Oh, I know you won’t. But I know you could if you needed to, and that's all that matters.” His loving grin turned more serious. “I trust you to take care of yourself, Danica.”

Her eye’s watered slightly and she quickly walked across the room to embrace her father. “I love you, Papa.” She hugged him as tightly as she dared.

“I love you too, Little Star.” He spoke impossibly gently, slowly running his fingers through her freshly trimmed hair.

She just snuggled deeper into his warmth. When her Mama came over to join the group hug, her knees nearly gave out in contentment. She had the best parents ever.