I could breath in the warmth. It made me think of cold mornings found in the wrap of the combed wool blankets, cracked song of fire place, and knowing nothing was more perfect then that feeling of behind held, tucked in, snuggled in your own bed. Breathing in fibers scented with oils from your own flesh, and that, you really didn't need to rise unless you truly felt like it.
But this was not the case. It was a nice memory though. I brushed the kaleidoscope of color in my blanket against my cheek, breathed in a scent which not mine in domination. I was just a lingered aroma in the mixture of that which seemed to fill my senses. I never really enjoyed..the smell before today. I am one to pick up on the essence of scents. Feeling of them. I love the smell of everything. Not to say I go snorting foul things, but even those had a place in life. It was still an emotion. Death, Life or illness. Results of a meal gone bad or even the bloated essence of anxiety. I, for the first time, lifted to my feet and walked out naked, as far as my chain would allow it. I gave a gasp, as the heat of the day curled around my naked body and the light of day found every bit of my flesh as if born for the first time in its light. I stood stunned for an ehn. It felt wonderful. This feeling, never felt before. Heat, light, freedom of clothing gifted with everything the natural world had to offer to me. I wondered about my own thoughts. Freedom of....what? Freedom? Was I free? I was...Free, but was I even more so, then before? Was it...possible? Why was I here to begin with? Yes, I wanted to hang my blanket out on the railing to let the weave breath in this warm air also. I found, it wasn't the only thing I wanted to do. I wanted to do so much more. I had the Freedom to do this. I walked back in looking around in a new light. I saw the food left, the work left, the water left. The fruit left. I saw a basin of water, rep cloths, and I found a small jar with a bit of oil in it. It was light, yet still at a good consistency for my own skin. I figured it was probably Catch's, or even His. It wasn't scented. I was a bit disappointed, but it was still oil. I moved towards the spot I slept and started to roll up the furs. I took one of the rep cloths, and just misted it with flickers of water droplets from my fingers after I dipped them in the basin. I tossed the sleeping furs of my own spot out on the platform. I needed more light. I fully rolled up the heavy leather flap, tying it back so the wagon was completely open. I figured if I worked fast on what was on my mind, then it wouldn't be open long. I wasn't sure how He...would feel about that. I tucked that thought in questions that started to birth in my mind. I used the rep cloth to rub along the wooden floor after I picked up the fur carpets from near the base and start of my chains anchor. I stacked the food and work left for me on the cleaned spot. I didn't know where any brooms of hand brushes might be, for right now, where ever they were, it wasn't in my reach. I could compromise. Once I got that stuff put up I started rolling up all the furs I could gather tossing them out across the platform with the other. I reached, I mean, I had a nice bruised throbbing on my ankle for how far I was stretching to pull the furs and blankets off His sleeping couch. Those I walked out in arm full, to shake out and hang over the railing of the platform. Once I got a nice area cleared I used the misted cloth to sweep off the dust and debris from the wooden floors. I put the rep cloth in a bucket I found, so it could be washed. I closed up the flaps finally as I started to shake out the carpets. I didn't risk the dust going back in, of course I figured that out after I cleaned the floor the second time and thought it smart to put the flap back down. I let the furs just spread out on the platform as I went back in, and finally washed my hands and ate one of the small eggs and bread. I wasn't hungry, I was strangely...excited.
Leaving the furs out in the warm air, I rolled part of the flap up to give me some light. I looked over the examples left for me, for the bota's. Looking in the basket, I pulled out the skin's putting them in piles with sizes matched that were close to each other. There was thick thread, needles in different widths, a piece of wood I knew was for working the needle through leather. I looked at this knife like thing. I think it was made from bone. I have never seen a bone knife before. It had also this tool with a sharp metal blade on this wooden handle. It looked like a scraping tool. One side was very sharp, the other smooth, for scraping then pressing down any lifted skin, making it sealed from perhaps working oil into the scraped skin from the blade itself. I could figure this out from the smooth oil residue on the dull side. I wasn't without knowledge on leather. Blushes was very skilled with leather. I knew some things from watching her as a child. She would heat rounded pieces of metal to mold leather into designs. Almost like branding but it was heated enough bent the leather under the heat and not hot enough to burn through. It was a way to make patterned designs, each unique. I was amazed how much things that seemed so very unimportant in the past were a trunk of gem wealth now.
I started working on the skins. I saw a lidded jar of pitch. I knew pitch well. In the North we used it for everything. In many different forms, but almost everything we used, or touched needed to be waterproofed due to the harsh cold of winters, fog and when heat did come, we were moist with condensation. We made our own natural pitch tar. It was another fond and wonderful memory. I opened the jar, working it into the powder into the fur as I combed it deep into the skin through the fur with a very fine toothed wooden comb. Every fur I combed I thought of the metal containers that would be smoked in the ground to make the pitching tar. Father would let us, Big Red, Von and I collect peeling dry bark from trees to pack the containers with, as him and Claes would smoke them to almost a charcoal residue. It was the core base for anything needing to be waterproofed.
Exhaling, I let the furs lay out to let it soak in. What I liked most about the pitch here was it was a thick grease like texture. It would soak into the skin perfectly. I brought in the rugs while the skins were setting. I laid them back over the floors, and folded the blankets and sleeping furs. I couldn't reach fully His couch so I just left the folded bedding on the edge. I placed mine to the side before I brought the skins over and I started to edge up the furs. I would let a couple needs hold them in place around the curves as I started to stitch the edging. It was late in the afternoon, from the shadows I knew it was early evening. I put a second row of stitching in each before I finally just placed a few stitches to add straps. They were not fully connected yet, cause they needed to hang and set. Tomorrow I would check the stitching once the leather molded to the fitted sewn shape. Once I check to see if it would hold water tomorrow, I would finish them up. I would work on the black leather in the morning.
I took one of the fruits and peeled it. I squeeze it in the basin as I added more water from the bota left for me. I washed up in the citrus water. It made me feel very refreshed. I ate some cheese and bread. Laying out my blanket I laid across on top of it. I could smell Him all over the wagon, I could smell Catch. I was missing...them both. I laid there watching the shadows. Listening to voices coming out from the herds, talking of the day with tones of pride and pleasure. I felt proud, the work I got done today. It left me yearning...for more.
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