45 Waking

Born-By-The-East-River yawned for at least the tenth time in a minute as she placed a fresh log on the fire from the dwindling stack.  As the fire caught the new log, the light spread out a little and she was able to make out the shapes of the other members of the Clan, although she could not yet see their faces.  They all lay quiet and still, the only sounds the crackling of wood and the snores of the dogs.

“This is my favourite thing about fire duty,” whispered Falls-Out-Of-Trees, his voice in that quiet place making her jump.  He carefully laid a fresh pile of logs next to her and crouched down.

She peered at him through the flickering shadows, meeting his steady eyes shyly.  He was three winters her senior and would be joining the Hunters’ Lodge in the spring.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.  She placed two of the largest logs on the fire, making it flare up suddenly.

He grinned back and nodded towards the people lying beyond the firelight.  “Watch!”

As the flames grew the light spread into a wider and wider circle, disturbing the sleep of more and more of the members of the Clan, bringing more and more to wakefulness.  At first, Born-By-The-East-River could not understand why Falls-Out-Of-Trees was so excited, but as she watched she began to understand.

Every one of the Clan, all those people she had known her whole life, woke differently and yet there was a moment when each of them was between waking and sleeping, an instant of time when they were still joined in dreaming, but not yet joined in the normal activities of life.  She did not know how many times she had taken fire duty but she had never noticed this before, and now she would never be able to un-notice it. 

Closest to the fire and first to wake was Great-Oxen, headman and legendary hunter.  He woke slowly, his eyes fluttering open in a way that made him seem disturbingly vulnerable before his customary frown settled over his features and he was the ruler of all their lives once more.  His power over them all was absolute but seeing him in that moment of complete openness would change her view of him forever.

Beside him, his mate White-Wolf, opened her eyes, stretched and stood all in one easy movement, nudging her eldest daughter with her toe.  Little-Wolfling-Who-Snores was, apparently, still asleep.  Her closed eyes had fooled Born-By-The-East-River, at least, but now that she observed more closely she saw the frown across the other girl’s brow that deepened with each nudge of her mother’s toe until, at last, she could keep up the pretence no longer.  As vengeance, she shook her younger sister roughly before dragging her to her feet and marching her towards the cave entrance, then out in the direction of the stream grabbing a gourd for each of them on the way.

By now, the spreading light had reached the outer edges of the cave but those who lay furthest from the fire were increasingly disturbed more by the movements of the other members of the Clan than the light.  Born-By-The-East-River and Falls-Out-Of-Trees watched them all with increasing delight.  There were the Elders who stood slowly, stretching out creaking limbs before stumbling off to the mouth of the cave to take care of early morning business, and the children who went instantly from deep sleep to being wide awake, and running in endless, shrieking circles. 

Mothers lifted young babies to their breasts before setting off to the stream.  Grandmothers grabbed toddlers wandering towards the fire.  Fathers gave orders to the almost-men who were their sons.

She caught the eye of Falls-Out-Of-Trees and grinned back.  “I never realised there were so many ways of waking,” she said.  “Everyone is so different.”

“Of course they are.  The way people eat, sleep, move, speak – everyone has their own way.”

She nodded thoughtfully, pondering this new information and wondering why it had never occurred to her before.  The Clan were all up and moving around, now, all like their separate selves again, the comfortable chaos of her life restored.