I remember eating the stew the night before. It was warm, and the bread was warm, and it was warm in my mouth. It was also very warm in my soul. Food calmed me. I amused myself with a half thought of how huge I was going to get if all this kept up. It's not so much eating that calmed me, its the thought of how much love is put into cooking. I suppose I only feel this way after years of growing up watching Blush's cook. She was a great cook. The best ever. I would sit and watch her as a little girl. Big Red was usually playing with her dolls in the sunroom or having Stitches fit her for another new dress. Stitches taught me how to refine my decorative sewing into art, but Big Red spent so much time with her, cause Big Red had a gift of color. She could make things just look good together. She decorated rooms, would want fabric changed on cushions in warmer seasons. I found it irritating. I liked dark colors and she was always trying to put light hues on me. For Twins, we were so very different. It was early mornings and late evenings spent in the kitchens I would guess that made me learn to love and enjoy every scent around me. Different smells of spices, even bowls things were mixed in. Each kind of tree had its own smell. She didn't let me so much cook as she would tell me what she was doing. Tell me every person of the hall that like certain things a certain way. I would see her face light up and her whole body warm to sweet cinnamon and sugar scented emotions when she spoke of Father. There was a vanilla warmth when she would speak of Mother. Mother loved bread, she would tell me. She would keep Mother's memories alive for me. We were so young when she died, and Von never got to know her, but it was like...we did, and we owe all that to Blushes.

I did ask once when I was younger..."If you love Father so much and always say your breath from his breaths...how did you not feel sad about my Mother being there?" Yes, it seems as a child even I lacked the filter of thinking before I speak. Her answer...everything she use to say, as though it really wasn't a memory branding moment back then, seemed to rise and make more sense now, with my current living arrangement. She said, it was because men have to sides of love in them. They have a love that would desire to care for, embrace the powers of so many Fathers before them. Have children, and someone beside them to walk through life with. Someone who is strong enough to hold a child, His needs, and keep their own will equal as far as equal goes. That is what Companions did. They were so strong in the heart, that they might not like, but accepted the whims of the other side of his love. That would be the love of accepting slaves. Accepting them to care for everything around him. Allowing such intimate things of making sure his boots stitching is strong or if they torn while he was working it might be deadly if he lost his footing. Accepting them to kneel at his feet, for he knows their hearts beat is at his hands and they are so raw in emotions they love every feel of fingers that squeeze it now and then in teaching and molding of this will to be controlled.

Now when I was younger, I thought that sounded pretty stupid. It made more sense as I woke up and I felt fingers touching me to arouse me. It was Catch, and even talking of collecting Dung, for His wagon's, extra's cause He had a huge family to care for..and things to that sort..I smelled it. That sugar and cinnamon emotion off of her. Perhaps its what made me remember everything. That comfort smell of..Love. I didn't fight her, I didn't say a whole lot. I took a deep breath as I woke up, and I felt that collar. I slipped on that clothing, that made me a bit more sure of myself. Catch handed me a couple leather dung sack's as I followed her out. I was outside...freely moving around. I felt scared. There was streams of slaves like fallen leaves scattered all over. Catch gave me a few pointers on collecting as I followed her as if I didn't see the back of her ankles and chime of bells moving around I would get swallowed up in the mass of waves of slaves and drown. I was a bit happy that pull and scalp Mistress wasn't in eyes shot of my work. Cause yes, maybe I wasn't the best, I was trying to keep up, I felt awkward. I felt my back start to ache from leaning over, and my upper arms burn. I felt this thrill again, like when I was working on the leather..when both sacks were filled. Accomplishment.

I followed Catch, who had three sacks..wow...back to the Wagon's. She showed me where to hang them on the pegs. Then said something that was the best thing I have heard so far! It was time to bath to get ready to start the day! I was so happy about bathing I forgot to make a comment about assuming my day had started when I picked up that first dung chip. I was so thrilled to not have to wash with a basin so much, I didn't think of anything, I was happy Catch was there to snap me back to here and now. I felt like a child unable to care for herself yet, as I had to be told the little stuff. Cloth for washing, some soap and oils. Little things that use to be taken care of for me. She showed me where to get them so I could start taking care of myself. I was about skipping towards the stream. Yes, not sure why I was thinking a tub filled with warm water. It was an open stream and slaves were gathered there, talking, laughing, swimming, and washing up. I took off the cloth and washed it first. Dust and dung..not nice to my senses. I laid it out on the warm grass with many other articles of slave clothing drying already. The water was a bit cool. I walked in slowly watching the rich blue waves now reflect from the light that was brightening by the ehn across its surface. I watched it sparkle, and it lead me to walk out more into as the chill would start to rise slowly along my thighs, hips and waist. It seemed to give a cool touch that would start to melt away from my warm skin and heat up a bit as I moved. I stayed out there for a few ehn's letting every part of me slowly sink into the water, before I went to get the cloth and soap. I am surprised I still have hair for as rough as I scrubbed it. Its thick red layers darkened while wet, and it was making me feel alive with the wonderful smell of...clean. I washed my body pink with the cloth going over and over my skin, making sure not a single bit of grim was left anywhere. In the stain of hued flesh from my cleaning I would watch my freckles disappear just less then an ihn in the work of my fingers with cloth, only to come back once I moved to another area.

I was feeling so good!

Until...I felt myself lose footing with a shouldering that was so hard by someone that walked by. By the time I surfaced up and pushed my hair out of my face to see..who..what...I heard. "Move out the way spot, real slaves have work to do." I didn't need to let my eyes focus to know the voice. Her and a small group of slaves were already walking up the grassy bank to the wagons by the time I saw her. For once in my life, I didn't have the desire to find a switch to strike Honey, I wanted to just stay away from her.

Such a cruel cruel twist.

I was thankful when Catch said to finish up, she would show me back to the wagon, before she went to tend to her chores.