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"I do not know even who I am..." Bethberry was filled with compassion as tears filled the girl's eyes. How was she to help this girl when she knew so little of her? Saeryn tensed, shifting to lay slightly curled on her side. Injuries are bad enough, she thought, but to not even know where they are from? Why... anything could have happened. Tears slid down her cheeks as Mereflod patted her back. An image appeared before Saeryn's eyes.
A small girl stood at the top of a hill, a little boy beside her with her hand clasped in his. Silently they had watched the storm move in, the tall clouds moving unhurriedly across the plains. The shadows had intrigued them, for whenever a cloud passed under the high sun, it left darkness in its path.
The wind played against their faces, caressing red into their cheeks, tugging loose locks of hair about them. The girl's hair was unbound, falling near to her waist, while the boy's was cut short, skimming his ears. Their features matched. Dressed alike, they would have been hard to tell apart. "It's coming!" she cried, delighted. With a happy laugh, the children tilted their faces to the sky, catching the first rain drops with their tongues.
"Children!" called a tender voice. "It is time to come in. The storm will be on us in a moment." Moving as slowly as would be tolerated, the brother and sister walked down the small path, returning to the warmth of the home at the base of the hill.
Saeryn blinked, wiping the tears away. What in the... she asked herself, trailing mentally into silence. "Bethberry... who... are you? If I cannot know who I am... at least I can know who cares so well for me."
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