As Maisen and Daysha sat down to eat that night, Daysha resolved to tell him about the dream.

She had never meant to hide the dream from Maisen. She simply didn't know how to tell him. Which remained true. Daysha played the conversation over in her head, imagining how to start, what to say, what Maisen might say. Perhaps he wouldn't be upset at all. It was likely that he would shrug it off as inconsequential. He might gently reassure her that it was just a dream. This thought caused Daysha’s stomach to turn.

“Volan did well today,” Maisen told Daysha about his morning. “To watch him out there, you'd say that he preferred fishing to hunting. I don't think he's going to rush back.”

“That's good, right?” Daysha asked.

“Yes. He needs the rest. As long as he's on his feet by The Frost, we can carry on without him.”

Maisen took a large bite of fish.

“Most of the boys will be ready by then too, won't they?” Daysha sipped her drink.

“Mmm…” Maisen bobbed his head and shoulders doubtfully before swallowing. “It might be next Sprout before we can take them to the Southern Embankment. I'm not sure that they're ready now. And unless the Chieftain says otherwise, I doubt we'll make it before this year's Harvest.”

There it was. Daysha knew she had to say something. “Tomorrow my mother wants to see the Chieftain.”

Maisen stopped chewing and stared questioningly at her, a bulge in his cheek.

“We've been talking and she suggested that he might be able to answer – to help with some questions – to answer some of these things we've been talking about.”

Maisen’s brow furrowed and he swallowed hard, “Daysha, what –”

A long, sharp horn blast echoed through the camp. The two went silent. The evening hum of the entire tribe in their huts, cooking, eating, and conversing, all hushed leaving only the sound of popping fires. Everyone waited for what the next blast would tell them. The clarion call resounded again. Then again.

Beasts at the perimeter. Five short pips told them how many had been spotted.

Maisen quickly and quietly began binding his feet, readying to leave. Daysha stayed seated, the camp still silent, waiting for the final call of instruction.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Boo-wee! Boo-wee! Boo-wee! Boo-wee!

To the South.

The whole camp erupted in commotion. Daysha leaped up to fetch Maisen's water skin. Spear in hand, he kissed her as he took it.

“I may not be back until morning. Please don't go anywhere until I'm back.”

He was out the door without another word. Daysha stepped out after him. The other men ran past her to answer the call. She could see more women watching in their doorways. Brin’s oldest boy clapped and cheered, lauding the excitement buzzing around him. Daysha couldn't help giggling to herself when she saw Koregin depart longingly from a tearful Yuli.

Beasts at the perimeter were a nuisance, not a death sentence. Others would respond to the immediate threat long before Koregin, especially now with this delay. Even then, his dismissal from The Watch would come prior to the more experienced like Maisen, who would stay until morning to give the all-clear.

Darkness had settled and the light of The Chased gave way to the light of The Follower which beamed overhead. As other women huddled together, Daysha stared at it. The bright round orb illuminated rings of clouds. Its pocked and stippled surface looked back at her.

The commotion passed quickly, and Daysha returned inside to avoid the lingering discussions of the others. Maisen asked her not to go anywhere until he returned, but she knew that he meant that for the morning. He didn't want her to go to the Chieftain without talking to him.

Daysha cleared their dinner, growing more frustrated with the memory of what she'd said. She didn't want to go to the Chieftain without speaking to him either. She wasn't confident that she even wanted to go at all. It was her mother's request.

Daysha began to question why she had ever told her mother about the dreams. She should have kept them to herself.

She attached so much meaning to them and found herself frustrated that they turned out to be meaningless. Daysha stomped through her chores, embarrassed.

I'll tell Maisen I'm not going. Mother wants me to, but I won't. I won't make fools out of all of us in front of the Chieftain. They're just dreams.

Memories of the dream bombarded Daysha. The calm release she felt in that impossible ocean. The dying serpent on the waning beaches of the silver desert. The heat of the fire blasting against the ground. The infant’s cry.

A sob racked Daysha's whole body while she stooped to scrape the cook stone. She ceased mid-motion and sat in her frustration and grief. A violent yet muted release; Daysha would alert others if she were to give in to all she felt. She calmed herself with deep, puttering breaths.

Daysha wiped her face, ashamed at the familiarity of such fruitless outbursts. Yet, somehow, her mind suddenly eased into a welcome quiet. Breathing deeply, she hastened to finish her chore as sleepiness settled over her and her bed beckoned.

Laying down, Daysha reminded herself that regret was pointless. It was done. Even if her words had been nonsense, Maisen knew something important was happening. She hated sending him off with just enough information to ignite a long night of sleep-deprived speculation. But it was done.

Her practiced words to Maisen amounted to nothing when the time came, so she didn't bother anticipating what might happen in the morning. Instead, Daysha simply closed her eyes, and sang songs in her head to lull herself to sleep.