Backwoods Barbie

“UEEEEGGHHH” comes a cry from the Ambarino river. More a disgusting noise than an actual cry — something between a belch and some kind of strangled gurgling. The river, usually so calm and serene, had suddenly spat out onto its shore the figure of a girl; and in a perfect circle of life moment, she was the one spitting out water now.

Or vomiting it. Details.
Soaked to the bone and already starting to tremble from the cold, she took her time to sit down and get her bearings somehow. It was all so strange. She knew exactly what she was and she knew nothing at the same time. She was a newborn, and yet she was perfectly aware and able. She didn’t remember a thing and yet knew exactly she wasn’t supposed to be alone. She couldn’t place a name, not even for herself, but couldn’t forget her love for singing. She had never seen a wolf but knew she was one.

She could even operate her body and understand the few whispers of information the land around her agreed to give. Here, the smell of water. There, the flutter of a pheasant’s feathers in the underbrush not too far from the shore. Food, but she was not hungry, and she needed to know more important things.

Still sitting, almost dizzy from the heaving breaths she was drawing, she tried to calm her heart and glean something more from the smells all around this river. Animals were drawn to this place - of course they were; it seemed like an idyllic drinking spot - and it was far too easy to catch hints of regular passage. Her heart quickened again upon this realisation : was the land occupied ? Claimed ? Fought for ? Would she be driven out ? Was she in danger ? Where was Bull ?

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They choked on their first breath.

The world came back to them, and it was all at once ; the light of the sun in their eyes, the taste of the sea on their tongue, the smell of the earth in their fur. It felt like they were born again, and it was dizzying as they looked for something. They were aware of nothing but the emptiness at their side, the silence in their ears — they knew she wasn’t here.

Pia.

The need to find her voice again, it was stronger than the soreness of their body. And they stood on their paws, even when it felt like burning from the inside. This was familiar, weren’t they always pushing beyond the limits? Weren’t they always biting the bullet? They couldn’t remember, it was still too much from the moment they opened their eyes.

What happened?
They took another breath, and they choked again.

The smell of iron, the taste of blood ; it was stuck at the back of their throat. Soon, they felt it had soaked their nose and their chin, while some had already dried in the grass and disappeared into the earth. It wasn’t running anymore, but it was still there.

Who was it?
Their own? Someone else?

They frowned. With their lips curling slowly and bearing their all too sharp teeths, when it came from the river ; the scream, the voice. And suddenly, they were running, crashing into trees and bushes that shook loudly, making birds suddenly fly from the leaves. But it was them who chirped the most —

PIA! PIA!

Until they were at the riverbed, until they were almost smashing into her.

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