The light was reducing while heavy clouds were gathering to cover the bright night sky. Soon it would be time to celebrate the end of the planting season and the start of the growing season. Wacca was a big celebration for the father of the gods.
Raisa didn't think about that. She was not thinking a lot. Her mouth was dry, and her wounds were burning. She was not even sure if she was awake or sleeping. Luckily the south wind was warm, but the god of thunder was driving with his chariot somewhere in the distance. Birds were singing in the forest, and a lonely crow was shouting.
Suddenly Tuija appeared next to her. Raisa scared when she touches her cheek.
“Here, take some water,” She whispered her and lifted big wooden mug on her lips. Raisa was drinking with great pleasure.
markus baur
2021-04-11 15:25:27 +0000 UTC