Writing Prompt: They lifted their hands to the sky as they danced.

Morning all. I hope your week is going well. Let’s kick this morning of right with a morning writing prompt. Everyone joining in, please set the timers for fifteen minutes and don’t stop until the time runs out.

I think the time ran out before I was ready this time. Notes at lunch again as I think through where this is going.

Wednesday, April 23^rd: They lifted their hands to the sky as they danced.

They lifted their hands to the sky as they danced.  Their hands waved, swaying with their bodies as their feet hit the ground in time to the drum beats.  The drummers were off to the side, half in shadow as they beat out the steady rhythm for the dancers.  The large bonfire was in the center of the clearing and the dancers circled it.  Their shadows covered the drummers as they moved, only in the gaps of the bodies did the light flash through.  It shone in the sweat on the drummer’s brows.  The heat and their efforts causing their skin to gleam.  From my place hidden in the trees they looked like beings made of liquid and smoke.

Then the singing began.  It raised the hairs on the back of my neck.  I swallowed hard.  The keening wordless song was half mournful sigh and half ecstatic praise.  It was not meant for me to hear.  It didn’t sound like something anyone should hear, let alone a sound anyone should make, but I knew I was especially not welcome.

I knew the ritual was being performed and I had not intended to intrude.  I lost track of time and did not make it out of the woods before they began.  Now The ritual, the fire the dancers, the drummers and the singers were all between me and the path I knew back to the village. 

I was still hidden in the edge of the trees.  I was certain I wanted to be here less than they wanted me here.  I slowly backed away, sinking deeper into the trees and trying not to disturb the ritual, to draw attention to myself.  I was certain I could double back to the river and then follow it back to the village.  It wa not a path I was used to but I was certain the river would lead me back.

I knew I couldn’t cut across the clearing. 

That much was clear. 

I made it back to the denseness of the trees and hurried back up the path to the river.  I sighed with relief when I found it.  The sun was sinking fast and soon true night would have fallen. I had only a short time to get out of the woods if I wished to leave before night fall.  I had been warned many times that when night fell I needed to be back in the village.  I had no problems imagining a variety of wild beasts slinking through the undergrowth and no desire to become their prey. 

I needed to hurry.

I moved swiftly down the edge of the river where the land was clear.  The sand was try and slowed me only a little.  I hurried and could hear the drum beats as I moved.  Luckily the keening song could not be heard from this distance.  The drums helped me orient myself in the growing darkness.  They stayed to my right as I circled.  Then they shifted behind me as I angled back to the path.  I found my feet on the path on the other side of the ritual clearing as the last of the reddish sun hugged the horizon. 

I raced along the path and breathed a sigh of relief as the village came into sight.  Knowing that I would be yelled at for potentially disturbing the ritual if I was seen coming in, I slipped along the edges of the village.  All was quiet.  Most settling in for the night.  I saw the lights in a few of the windows, but no one was moving.  I reached the space allocated me and raced to the door.  I opened it, slipped inside and closed it as silently as I could. 

Thee were no lights on and I assumed all had gone to bed.  It was early, but I knew the day, and the week had been a long one.  I made my way quietly across the room to my allotted space.  Halfway across the room, the scent hit me.