Dirt Stains and Blackberries
Quote from Adriana on August 26, 2024, 12:33 pmIt was her first summer so far south.
Logan was not acclimated to the heat. As the warm season stretched on and bore down more ferocity, the woman's mood fluctuated by degrees, between mildly-agitated and impossible to approach.
She spoke very little, was often sweat drenched, and she slept most of the day away near brooks and under the shade of trees-usually on patches of soil that'd been turned up so that she could rest her stomach on the cool earth beneath.
Bianca didn't struggle with the heat so much. In fact, she thought they were blessed with a relatively fair summer.
But did she struggle! She missed her body wash and shampoo. She missed thirty-minute long warm showers in the morning, and doing her makeup and nails. She missed her music and journals, perfumes, and having clean clothes to wear. How she missed the kitchen! They hadn't made any fires, and raw meat along with foraging was all there was fill their bellies.
With every day that passed by, she wondered how feral she might appear-probably gaunt, and decrepit, like the actors in those stranded-on-an-island shows or movies. Her change suit was increasingly tattered, further increasingly the image of the society starved mountain cryptid she was becoming.
She did what she could, bathing as often as she had a chance, and keeping her hair in a french braid, but she was certain it was for nothing.
Of course, our own perceptions rarely reflect how others see us. While Bianca might have imagined herself starting to resemble Tolkien's description of the disgusting little Gollum in his books, Logan saw something very different.
The little blonde girl looked healthier than their first meetings; her skin was warm and clear. The alarming chemical scent she had was replaced by the calming smells of the earth and her own scent which was not unpleasant. Between the protein rich diet and treks up and down the mountain, she had put on muscle and thus gained weight instead of having lost it like she imagined.
Of course, there was little to prompt Logan to say anything to the younger member and vice versa; they interacted very little except in shared company.
Now today was an especially hot day... it was in the evening that Bianca came upon Logan, laying on her back in a shallow stream, with just her face out of the water. She wouldn't have approached if she wasn't desperate.
"Logan?" she asked, pushing her way out of a dried up bush. She came to stand at the edge of the stream bed. "Are you sleeping?" she asked, crouching on the stones.
"You cannot see?" Logan asked.
"Uhm... see.. what...?" the blonde asked, blinking slowly.
"Naivný. Probably, I am dying." the older woman responded, waving her hand before letting it fall back down on her chest.
"You are not. I didn't know you could be dramatic." Bianca rolled her eyes and smiled a little anyway.
"What is this, 'dramatic?'" Logan propped herself up on her elbows, tilting her head to each side to get the water out of her ears.
"Over the top... y'know, like, to exaggerate, act, I don't know how to describe it. Dramatic." if Bianca wanted to be a teacher once, she was currently disenchanted with the idea.
Logan sat up and blinked slowly, with the water coming down off her hair and back. Her focus shifted. "What is that?" she asked, sniffing. The previous matter was quickly forgotten.
"Blackberries-I found some a little bit ago." Bianca said. She was using the bottom of her shirt to hold them in a little pile. Bianca happened to find out by accident that Logan liked them very much, and even now, looking up from her humble gathering and back to the giant woman in the water, she could swear Logan was drooling. Maybe it was just river water.
"Do you like them?" the blonde asked, sheepishly, already knowing the answer.
Logan stared for a moment longer, then waved her hand, standing. "Eat them yourself," she said, but was aware it sounded too blunt and dismissive, so she elaborated; "you do not favor meat, and I have lived on pine needles and roots before this. Even dirt!" she said, slapping her stomach proudly. "I am made of steel. You will like them more."
"You mean you have a stomach of steel?" Bianca asked. Logan stared. It was awkward. Maybe that's not what she meant. She also did not care for the insinuation she couldn't handle the forest, even if Logan was right.
Still, that wasn't why she offered them.
"Anyyyway... I was just going to ask if you'd wash my change suit tonight, and I'll give you these. I can braid your hair too, if you want-so it's off your neck. Like a trade."
Now Logan seemed more interested.
"You do not know how to wash them now?" Logan asked with a little tilt of her head. Somehow it didn't sound condescending, just curious.
"No, it's just-when you did it that one time, they were cleaner. You do a better job than I do." Bianca admitted, but also knew she was stoking Logan's ego. Maybe she was being just a little manipulative.
"Fine. We will trade. Meet me after sunset, and I will wash them for you." she said, and did not take the blackberries yet. Instead, she walked the other way and left Bianca standing there with her forage.
"Ooo... kay.."
It was her first summer so far south.
Logan was not acclimated to the heat. As the warm season stretched on and bore down more ferocity, the woman's mood fluctuated by degrees, between mildly-agitated and impossible to approach.
She spoke very little, was often sweat drenched, and she slept most of the day away near brooks and under the shade of trees-usually on patches of soil that'd been turned up so that she could rest her stomach on the cool earth beneath.
Bianca didn't struggle with the heat so much. In fact, she thought they were blessed with a relatively fair summer.
But did she struggle! She missed her body wash and shampoo. She missed thirty-minute long warm showers in the morning, and doing her makeup and nails. She missed her music and journals, perfumes, and having clean clothes to wear. How she missed the kitchen! They hadn't made any fires, and raw meat along with foraging was all there was fill their bellies.
With every day that passed by, she wondered how feral she might appear-probably gaunt, and decrepit, like the actors in those stranded-on-an-island shows or movies. Her change suit was increasingly tattered, further increasingly the image of the society starved mountain cryptid she was becoming.
She did what she could, bathing as often as she had a chance, and keeping her hair in a french braid, but she was certain it was for nothing.
Of course, our own perceptions rarely reflect how others see us. While Bianca might have imagined herself starting to resemble Tolkien's description of the disgusting little Gollum in his books, Logan saw something very different.
The little blonde girl looked healthier than their first meetings; her skin was warm and clear. The alarming chemical scent she had was replaced by the calming smells of the earth and her own scent which was not unpleasant. Between the protein rich diet and treks up and down the mountain, she had put on muscle and thus gained weight instead of having lost it like she imagined.
Of course, there was little to prompt Logan to say anything to the younger member and vice versa; they interacted very little except in shared company.
Now today was an especially hot day... it was in the evening that Bianca came upon Logan, laying on her back in a shallow stream, with just her face out of the water. She wouldn't have approached if she wasn't desperate.
"Logan?" she asked, pushing her way out of a dried up bush. She came to stand at the edge of the stream bed. "Are you sleeping?" she asked, crouching on the stones.
"You cannot see?" Logan asked.
"Uhm... see.. what...?" the blonde asked, blinking slowly.
"Naivný. Probably, I am dying." the older woman responded, waving her hand before letting it fall back down on her chest.
"You are not. I didn't know you could be dramatic." Bianca rolled her eyes and smiled a little anyway.
"What is this, 'dramatic?'" Logan propped herself up on her elbows, tilting her head to each side to get the water out of her ears.
"Over the top... y'know, like, to exaggerate, act, I don't know how to describe it. Dramatic." if Bianca wanted to be a teacher once, she was currently disenchanted with the idea.
Logan sat up and blinked slowly, with the water coming down off her hair and back. Her focus shifted. "What is that?" she asked, sniffing. The previous matter was quickly forgotten.
"Blackberries-I found some a little bit ago." Bianca said. She was using the bottom of her shirt to hold them in a little pile. Bianca happened to find out by accident that Logan liked them very much, and even now, looking up from her humble gathering and back to the giant woman in the water, she could swear Logan was drooling. Maybe it was just river water.
"Do you like them?" the blonde asked, sheepishly, already knowing the answer.
Logan stared for a moment longer, then waved her hand, standing. "Eat them yourself," she said, but was aware it sounded too blunt and dismissive, so she elaborated; "you do not favor meat, and I have lived on pine needles and roots before this. Even dirt!" she said, slapping her stomach proudly. "I am made of steel. You will like them more."
"You mean you have a stomach of steel?" Bianca asked. Logan stared. It was awkward. Maybe that's not what she meant. She also did not care for the insinuation she couldn't handle the forest, even if Logan was right.
Still, that wasn't why she offered them.
"Anyyyway... I was just going to ask if you'd wash my change suit tonight, and I'll give you these. I can braid your hair too, if you want-so it's off your neck. Like a trade."
Now Logan seemed more interested.
"You do not know how to wash them now?" Logan asked with a little tilt of her head. Somehow it didn't sound condescending, just curious.
"No, it's just-when you did it that one time, they were cleaner. You do a better job than I do." Bianca admitted, but also knew she was stoking Logan's ego. Maybe she was being just a little manipulative.
"Fine. We will trade. Meet me after sunset, and I will wash them for you." she said, and did not take the blackberries yet. Instead, she walked the other way and left Bianca standing there with her forage.
"Ooo... kay.."
Quote from Adriana on August 26, 2024, 6:07 pm"How'd you learn to wash clothes like that?" Bianca asked, watching Logan work out the dirt from her pink dress. The blonde was in her hoodie, which she had over her bare legs. Only the toes of her feet poked out at the bottom.
"I did not have these machines, for washing, or drying." Logan responded. The blackberries sat on a pile of leaves, washed and ready to be eaten. The older woman was squatting in the water and treated the clothes carefully and skillfully.
The sun was down, the crickets were chirping, and the moon was only partially illuminated, but here in the open by the water things were a little brighter.
"Oh. Where was that again?" Bianca asked. She was only mildly interested, but felt she needed to make conversation anyway.
"Where the winters are long and the sun does not hate living things. My home was called Blackridge." she explained, plainly.
"Right, but-where? Like, could you show me on a map?" Bianca asked, with more curiosity.
"Probably, I could." Logan shrugged, turning the garment right-side out and continuing.
"Like, was it in the United States, or... Canada?" she asked.
"North." Logan said.
"Sorry if this sounds rude but-nobody taught you geography, or told you what state you lived in? Or what country? Do you know where you are right now?" the more they talked, the more Bianca was wondering what kind of education Logan had, if any.
"I am here now. It is not important." Logan responded, evenly, but Bianca could sense she was becoming agitated.
"You are happier because you are knowing?" Logan asked before Bianca could say anything else, now spiking a look at Bianca from under her brow. Bianca met her gaze and looked taken back, as if the answer was obvious.
"I mean, sure?" she said, as if it were evident.
"Tell me how." Logan said, turning back to her work as she waited for a response.
"Well, I mean-y'know--" now, that was a strange question to answer. It just was. She didn't know what it was like not to know where she came from or where she lived, and remembered all of the addresses of all of her houses and her friends houses. "--it's nice to know where my family is..." Bianca trailed off.
"You are happy?" Logan pressed in a nonchalant manner, continuing to work.
"Sorry-can we drop this? You don't have to tell me where you're from. Just trying to make conversation." the blonde, with her chin rested on her knees, turned her head to the side. Logan didn't need to turn around to tell that the young adult had gotten angry, or embarrassed, or some combination of the emotions, and that Bianca was red in the face about it.
"Yes... nech je to tak." Logan responded, solemnly, and complied with the younger members wants.
"How'd you learn to wash clothes like that?" Bianca asked, watching Logan work out the dirt from her pink dress. The blonde was in her hoodie, which she had over her bare legs. Only the toes of her feet poked out at the bottom.
"I did not have these machines, for washing, or drying." Logan responded. The blackberries sat on a pile of leaves, washed and ready to be eaten. The older woman was squatting in the water and treated the clothes carefully and skillfully.
The sun was down, the crickets were chirping, and the moon was only partially illuminated, but here in the open by the water things were a little brighter.
"Oh. Where was that again?" Bianca asked. She was only mildly interested, but felt she needed to make conversation anyway.
"Where the winters are long and the sun does not hate living things. My home was called Blackridge." she explained, plainly.
"Right, but-where? Like, could you show me on a map?" Bianca asked, with more curiosity.
"Probably, I could." Logan shrugged, turning the garment right-side out and continuing.
"Like, was it in the United States, or... Canada?" she asked.
"North." Logan said.
"Sorry if this sounds rude but-nobody taught you geography, or told you what state you lived in? Or what country? Do you know where you are right now?" the more they talked, the more Bianca was wondering what kind of education Logan had, if any.
"I am here now. It is not important." Logan responded, evenly, but Bianca could sense she was becoming agitated.
"You are happier because you are knowing?" Logan asked before Bianca could say anything else, now spiking a look at Bianca from under her brow. Bianca met her gaze and looked taken back, as if the answer was obvious.
"I mean, sure?" she said, as if it were evident.
"Tell me how." Logan said, turning back to her work as she waited for a response.
"Well, I mean-y'know--" now, that was a strange question to answer. It just was. She didn't know what it was like not to know where she came from or where she lived, and remembered all of the addresses of all of her houses and her friends houses. "--it's nice to know where my family is..." Bianca trailed off.
"You are happy?" Logan pressed in a nonchalant manner, continuing to work.
"Sorry-can we drop this? You don't have to tell me where you're from. Just trying to make conversation." the blonde, with her chin rested on her knees, turned her head to the side. Logan didn't need to turn around to tell that the young adult had gotten angry, or embarrassed, or some combination of the emotions, and that Bianca was red in the face about it.
"Yes... nech je to tak." Logan responded, solemnly, and complied with the younger members wants.
Quote from Adriana on August 26, 2024, 6:14 pmLogan finished her work. Bianca sat, quietly for the remainder of the task. She didn't want to ask any more questions that could get turned back on her, and the other woman respected her need for silence.
When Logan finished, she hung up the clothes to dry on a branch and instructed the other to sleep; that they would be dry by morning.
The two did not speak to one another privately much after that, and Bianca tried not to wonder why Logan's question bothered her so much. It was indeed a very long and lonely summer.
Logan finished her work. Bianca sat, quietly for the remainder of the task. She didn't want to ask any more questions that could get turned back on her, and the other woman respected her need for silence.
When Logan finished, she hung up the clothes to dry on a branch and instructed the other to sleep; that they would be dry by morning.
The two did not speak to one another privately much after that, and Bianca tried not to wonder why Logan's question bothered her so much. It was indeed a very long and lonely summer.
