Sable's Questionnaire

Her home is a hollow tree trunk filled with a mossy bed. Her home is a cave, emptied and dry and shielding from the cold. Her home is by a warm campfire, with the sizzle and crack of cooking meat roasting above the heat. Her home is the remains of a cabin built long ago by someone familiar, creaky and aged like the limbs that had put it together. The East Siberian taiga, the expanse of trees and rivers and snow, are all part of her home. The cold bite of winter, the still rains of summer. The deer, the wolves, the fish and the birds. 

She accepts them all as part of her, because without the forest there is no where for her to go.

Sable is a decent hunter, better trapper. There are some neighboring communities she has become friendly with, bringing extra pelts and meat to trade or sell with the locals. Some offer her shelter when the Russian winters are particularly brutal, and when it quells and calms she returns to the forest. Any money she saves is spent on supplies and trade; she has no use for novelties and technology where she resides. 

There is a stuffed animal her mother had made when she was very young that she will also keep well intact. Many of the elderly women help keep the toy in good condition in exchange for help around the house and some company, which is a trade Sable is more than happy to make.

The animals are not the only ones that roam the forest and walk through the village. They are easy to miss, of course, but the well-trained eye can pick them out between pine needles and alleys, roaming and watching in the shadows. Some come with pleasant conversation, some scurry off and disappear, others continue to quietly gaze, as if there is an invisible window with the most beautiful sights that only they can see. These creatures come in all shapes and sizes, and Sable will give any she finds a nod or a wave as she passes by. Some of the smaller ones like to follow her and sing and dance when she cooks or hunts, and sometimes she joins them. She calls them her imaginary friends, and if locals catch it they've learned to not question it. The girl has lost everything, there is no point in questioning her imagination. 

She wants to create a world where they can live openly with other folk, where she can openly chat with them and not get concerned looks. No declarations of insanity or witch craft, just a normal life with her many little friends. As for how far she will go...if she is willing to kill...death is something she is already so familiar with. 

Sable had been taught how to hunt and fish by her father, how to build a fire and cook by her mother, and how to sew and repair by her grandmother. The cabin was so full of life when they were all together and she learned so much from her family while they were here. 

The winters are harsh, however, and you must be strong and wise to survive. 

Her grandmother fell ill when she was young, passing away just before spring. Her mother joined her father on hunts to help gather more food, and many days they came home with nothing. Any food scraps they had were passed to her, and she slowly grew while they slowly withered. Then one day they went hunting and didn't come home by dusk. She waited patiently as night fell, watching the shadows creep across the walls. They snarled with red teeth, their bodies radiated darkness. She did not sleep, waiting until the sun rose high and the only thing remaining were messy tracks that wandered off into the distant trees. She found them later that evening, wrapped around what was left of each other in a pile of crimson snow. 

Sable ate what she could gather. She kept her strength up through the winter. And she continued onward, returning to what remained of her home until she had adopted the taiga as her own. 

She was 8.

The Domovoi: a strange creature that has taken residence in her old cabin. He keeps the hearth lit and warm, and keeps Sable company when she visits. 

He is small bodied with long limbs and nails, a wiry beard and big eyes. His back has a hunch when he sits, and he rarely moves when Sable stays over. His small talk is minimal, but his company is refreshing, and his favorite spot is beside the fireplace. 

The Leshy: a rather lanky individual who likes to play in the forest. A sapling has taken root in his back, though its growth seems to be stunted. Sometimes he plays tricks on Sable, but more often than not the two provide company and friendship to one another as they run through the trees. When they play games, he always wins- usually because he vanishes before Sable can catch him. 

The Dvorovoi: a small being that lives in the farm fields on the edge of the village. He tends to the crops and the animals, and is usually busy fidgeting with straw when Sable finds him. They don't talk as much, but she makes sure to say hello when she passes by.

My whole life has been spent in the wilderness- I was born among the trees, I know the chilling embrace of frost, and the songs of the rain. My parents built a home for us, they also grew up here and know every path and river and herd of deer. My grandmother kindled the fires that cooked our meals and she taught me how to sew, she shared her life stories and passed on her abundant knowledge to me. My mother showed me how to remove the bones from a fresh kill and recover the good meat and what berries to harvest for a yummy snack. My father showed me how to hunt and track. 

I never attended school, my family has taught me almost everything I know, and the kind village folk outside the perimeter of the trees have taught me more. I carry everything with me wherever I travel. 

I've never been in love before- I don't think I'm old enough to fully understand what that is. I've had friends that I would say I love, but it feels much more familial. Maybe one day I'll fall in love. I want a love like what my parents shared. They would wake up together every morning, sing and dance in the garden, go out together on hunts, and hold each other close when they go to sleep every night. My father looked at my mother like she was the sun, and he would always compare her smile to the brightest of stars. And she looked at him like he was the moon, strong and cool-headed, the rock of the family.

I think a lot of other children and people in general are afraid of dying. Death can be scary sometimes, but it's a part of being alive. The moments before are all temporary, and soon any pain or fears or worries all wash away and everything is peaceful again, just as it started. I know one day I will die. I know one day all my friends will die. I'll lose everything I ever loved again...but that's okay. I know afterwards it will be okay and I think that brings me some comfort.

I think my biggest fear right now is how my friends would react if something hurt me. The wolf does not kill to hurt, it hunts to survive and feed itself and its family. The bear does not kill to hurt, she cannot risk losing her babies and takes no chances. The evils of the world do not kill to hurt, there is just something driving them to do what they do. They all do what they must, just like you and I. I don't want my friends to hurt if something happens to me, but I wouldn't want them to do something bad about it.

My biggest fear is unjust revenge. 

Chamomile is my best friend and goes everywhere with me! She's my stuffed animal that I got from my grandmother when I was little, she said Chamomile kept her safe during some very dark times and she will keep me safe now too. My great grandmother found the toy deep in the forest long ago after following the singing she heard and it has been passed down through my family to me now. Chamomile was very quite while I was growing up, I think she was just getting used to a new friend, but we talk a lot together now! She's very kind and sometimes sings me lullabies to help me sleep. She's also super cuddly (which is great in the winter). I think my other friends don't really understand her, but that's okay. She's been trying not to keep such a close eye on them during our adventures and there's a select few she really trusts. I'm sure after a few more adventures they'll all be best friends too!

The worst of winter is here. The snow is so cold it burns, the winds are sharp and food is scarce. I've been storing extra supplies at the house throughout the year to keep me alive and healthy though, and I might just barely have enough to last until spring. I managed to do some small trades in the town nearby for extra blankets and gloves. The older women said I'm welcome to stay until the storms calm, but I think I'll be okay. I think I can manage. Chamomile has been helping me stay warm when the nights get too cold. I remember how Papa builds the fires in the fireplace and how Mama boiled the tea just a little longer so the cup stayed hot in her hands. The Domovoi helps the hearth stay lit and warm while I'm out foraging and we all sit and talk when the storms get bad. I make sure he and Chamomile also get warm cups of tea when that happens, and I make extra for the Wolf (I fill my grandmother's old cup and place it next to their statue). I wonder what kind of tea they would like if they could drink it?

I like to get up when the sun wakes up, mostly because it starts to warm up more and I have extra time to get all of my things before it's time to go outside. I make my bed after lighting the hearth and get some hot water ready to boil while I get dressed and pack. I try to add extra layers when it gets super cold (thank you Quincy for the nice jacket!) and make sure my knife is sharp and ready to go. I sit with Chamomile, the Domovoi and Wolf to eat some breakfast (berries and bread, and sometimes a little slice of cured meat as a treat) and have some tea and then Chamomile and I head out to look for wood and set traps. I have to ration food in the winter so I make sure to get plenty of rest the night before so I don't make any mistakes.