previously: Martin and a party of hunters from a local village are tracking a bear-like beast through the Wilds.
and now: we flashback to Brann, one of the villagers.
Brann—The Morning of the Attack
Brann woke at day break with light streaming through the bedroom window.
"Ugh!" he moaned, rolling over and burying his head in a pillow.
Before sleep could retake him, he felt a soft tap on the back of his shoulder.
"You best be up," Meredith said. "Your father will be waiting."
"Let him wait," Brann groaned. "The grain shed's roof won't need to be repaired ‘til harvest time."
Meredith huffed in response. Then she retreated to the door, but before leaving, she paused to say, "Maybe Lily will have better luck getting you out of bed."
A moment later, a three-year girl ran squealing into the room. She leaped onto the bed, arms flailing and boney knees jabbing Brann in back.
He rolled over and wrapped his blanket around her, hugging her tight to him.
"I got you, you screeching banshee," he said.
"I don't sound like a banshee," Lily replied, trying to push herself out her father’s grasp.
Brann let her go, and she fell backwards onto the bed.
"Mom said to wake you up," she said.
"Then you should be crowing like a rooster," Brann told her. "Cock-a-doodle-dooOOOooo!"
"That's not how Sir Chicken sounds," she giggled.
Then Lily rolled off the bed and ran out of the room.
Brann heard her shout, "Pappa won't get up."
Meredith slammed something down on the dining table in response.
"I'm coming," he shouted. "Just let me get dressed."
Brann quickly donned pants and a shirt over his underclothes. By time he sat down at the table, Lily was already half through a bowl of porridge. Meredith set a bowl in from of him along with a mug of hot tea.
"You know I'd rather spend off-duty days with you and Lily," he said.
"I know," she said, and after planting a kiss on his cheek, she added, "But you promised, and I've made some breakfast for him."
Ever since his mother passed away last fall, Meredith had taken to preparing meals for his father. Usually he'd be here at the table distracting Lily. But not this morning. The morning he had planned to fix his grain shed.
Moments later, Meredith was shoving a fresh bowl of porridge into his hands.
"Now take this to your father," she said. "You know he'll start without you if you don't hurry."
"I know. I know," he replied, letting her usher him out the door.
"I'll be by at high-sun with lunch," she called after Brann.
He had about mile to go to reach his father's small farm, and it was an awkward trek for Brann, carrying a bowl of cooling porridge. But he knew his father well enough to know that he hadn't made himself anything to eat. Just like he knew his elderly father would try to fix the roof on his own if Brann didn't offer to help.
And as he arrived, his father was dragging a ladder over to the shed.
"Where you been?" he asked upon seeing Brann. "Sun's been up for over an hour."
"Eating breakfast. Something you should've been doin'," Brann replied, trading the bowl of porridge for the ladder.
"Gah! I could do this on my own, you know," his father said.
Brann knew it was mostly a ritualistic. An old man's stubbornness needing to be vented. His father couldn't accept help unless his protests against needing it were heard.
Brann shook his head, and while his father ate, he went and leaned the ladder against the shed. His father had already gathered the necessary tools for the task, and last week they had cut all the wooden shakes for reshingling the shed's leaky roof. So Brann headed up the ladder, first to deposit the tools on the roof. Then on his second trip up, he carried a bundle of shakes, balanced on his shoulder. He had just hefted the shingles up on the roof when he heard a distant shout.
Brann glanced back to see Renkle, the Watch's newest recruit, running down the path toward his his father's farm.
"There's been an attack! … huff huff … you're needed in town!" he cried out.
Brann carefully climbed down the ladder. He didn't turn to address Renkle until he had both feet planted on the ground. That gave the youth time to recover.
"Why are you bothering me with this?" Brann asked. "Carpin is the on-duty officer today."
Panic filled the young recruit's eyes. This was Renkle's first day, and already something had gone wrong. Something serious enough to have him breathless and rattled.
The Watch was mostly a cursory thing. This deep in the Wilds, they were far from any contested border for any of the kingdom's enemies to bother them. No bandits thought the residents of their small village worth the effort robbing. The worst trouble they had was someone drinking too much at the Bottomless Pint or a wild animal eating someone's chickens.
"And where's Tack?" Brann asked. "Isn't he supposed to be with you?"
"He's …" Renkle paused, eyes down cast. "He's tending to Carpin."
Brann noticed that the panic in Renkle's voice had change into something else. Not fear. Not quite worry. But something closer to despair.
"What happened?" he asked.
"'Twas a bear."
"Take me to him, " Brann commanded.
As he headed away with Renkle, Brann turned to his father, "Go see to Meredith and Lily."
"But what about the shed?" his father began to protest, but the glare Brann shot him was all the answer that was needed.
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I love Brann's little family. It makes me worried something will happen to them. This was a tender view of his life.