Morning all. Ready for the Friday prompt? I know I am so lets not dilly or dally and just jump into it shall we? (I might have fallen asleep watching the Johnny Depp version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I’ll try to control it.) Anyway on with the prompt.
I like this but have absolutely no idea what story it goes to. it feels like it should be part of a story I have in progress, I just don’t know which one.
Friday, September 8th: Flowers dotted the field with little splashes of color.
Flowers dotted the field with little splashes of color. They were bright spots in an otherwise dreary day. The sky was overcast and heavy with rain and Ilia could feel the rain looming. The air was thick and heavy with it, but as yet, no drop had fallen.
The flowers were bright yellows, reds and purples. The colors were so saturated that they seemed almost lurid. The green grass seemed washed out by comparison. It was a mere backdrop, the setting for the gems of flowers.
There was no definitive path but Ilia managed to find a slightly worn track of dirt meandering through the field to follow. She doubted it was made by humans. She suspected deer or maybe smaller creatures lower to the ground. It was wide enough for her feet but as she walked her skirts brushed the long grasses and nodding flower heads. Ilia tried to watch where she was going, but kept darting glances to the sky.
She was certain rain was imminent, but she had no idea what to do about it. She hadn’t seen shelter anywhere and now all she had was this vast field and the hope that this path would lead somewhere.
‘Maybe a watering hole,’ she thought. It seemed plausible and Ilia swallowed, realizing how dry her throat was. She could use a drink of some kind. Food would be welcome as well, but she knew that while the food would be good, water was the real necessity at the moment. The land began to slope downwards which made walking easier.
It also gave Illia hope that the landscape was changing. Perhaps the change would be a good thing and lead her to where she needed to be. ‘There has to be water somewhere,’ she consoled herself. ‘the grass is too lush and this path has to lead somewhere.’
She kept plodding along. The land continued its slope and to her relief, Ilia found the field petering out near a watering hole. It wasn’t a lake, but she thought it might qualify as a small pool. She could see its source as the spring burbled and flowed over rocks off to the side. All around it, she could see the imprints of animals. Hoofs, paws; to her relief they all looked like small creatures.
Deciding the water would be freshest closer to the spring’s source, Illia made her way over to the rocks. She dipped a hand into the flow and shivered at its chill. ‘Cold is good,’ she thought.
She rinsed off her hand and cupped a handful of the cold water lifting it to her mouth. The water tasted slightly minerally but it was refreshing and her body nearly sung with relief, each cell thrilled at the hydration. She drank slowly, savoring each mouthful and letting it warm up in her mouth before swallowing. She wanted to guzzle it but was afraid of giving herself a belly ache. Slow was better.
By the time she drank her fill, thunder was rumbling in the sky.
Ten til Midnight 