Five days after the events of When The Boughs Break...


Serril's memories of his first Festival of Blooms were only half-formed in his mind, but even at his earliest recollection, he knew it was a special day - even before opening his eyes from sleep. The still air of the family hut wasn't impervious to the perfumed scents of flowers in bloom, which permeated nonetheless. The pleasing scents coaxed him to wake early, when the light outside the window was still purple and pink.

This morning was no different. His eyes fluttered open before the Pepper-Thief's first crow, spurred on my a life's worth of memories associated with those smells. As sleep was banished by childlike anticipation, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Sibi's haphazard mattress lay empty, as did his mother's - as they had been each day for the last several days when he'd risen. It wasn't unusual for them to sometimes rise before the crow to attend to duties. However, each day since he'd gotten in trouble, Mama and Sibi had left before the crow, and hadn't been present for breakfast. It was an aberration; a disruption. A reminder that no matter how much Hana assured him that everything was fine, that not everything was in its place.

Even banishing the unloved acorn porridge from the breakfast table didn't bring him completely out of this awareness. Honey and cheese crepes and stewed apples were welcome treats, but enjoyed a little less when most of the family was missing. Even Tatva wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Did you hear what I said?" His father's voice broke Serril's introspection, and he looked up from the crepe he had only picked at.

Serril blinked. He hadn't been listening. He looked up at his father, who didn't seem upset at the lapse, though his smile seemed to dim a little.

"Sorry Papa."

"Aunt Myrta told me to tell you not to fill up on too many sweets today. She baked an extra strawberry cake last night, because its your favorite."

Hana was heeding no such caution, and was in the middle of making a mess of her crepe, wearing a smear of honey and cheese on her cheeks. "It's Festival Day, I'm gonna have both candy *and* cake!"

Guthir had a belly laugh at that. "Oh I know, I know. Just don't make yourself sick like last year." He looked back to Serril, who had returned to picking at his breakfast. The boy occasionally glanced to the empty seats adjacent, and Guthir's expression turned somewhat wistful.

"Don't worry," he reassured, gently squeezing a much larger hand around his son's smaller one. "Everyone will be back at noon for for the opening of the jamboree. I've never known an Indaiyu that has ever been late for cake."

"Why's everyone gone all the time?" Serril asked pointedly. It wasn't just Mama, Sibi, and Tatva. Jobi Ounay had gone days ago with Windra Broadleaf to scout the Wilds. When he looked down the table, it wasn't hard to see there were more missing seats than just in their family. The familiar woad-painted faces of the Herd scouts seemed to be few and far between.