T25.11 The Tentweaver, Part 1.1
Shurmo awoke slowly to the sound of mistrain.
While she could feel the cool air rush across her face - it felt less biting as she had remembered it in her youth.
As she reminisced the beautiful memories she had almost a hundred cycles ago, she could not help but feel pity, as she saw her grandson playing with the two saplings that were all that was left in upon the barren floodbark.
She could not help but feel furious at the Priestess of the Darkwaters, and her absurd prophecy - which somehow took all of the world by feverish submission.
It was their home! Why did they have to leave on this ridiculous journey?
If not for her only grandson, she would have stayed along with the Council of Ancients - she would have given her all to stop her from evicting the whole of the Kumiri from abandoning their home.
As she let loose a sigh, she looked down at the partially complete knitwork on her lap and continued.
There is no use dwelling on it... Shurmo thought as she forced herself to clear her mind by resuming her knitting.
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