Chapter 20.1: Aftershock

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Part 1

Word Count: 1089

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Zosingh scrambled over her sister's legs and barely avoided tripping over the shaggy mass of fur plopped in the center of the room. Despite her care, however, her small foot still came down on her dog's coal-colored tail.

"Aroo!" the large mammal shouted and stood up abruptly, his large ears perked. As you can imagine, Zosingh was sent sprawling onto the dirt floor.

"Tch! Karuth!" she scolded after dusting herself off. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Karuth's head tilted to one side, causing his now relaxed ears to flop. Despite her best efforts at imitating her mother's stern voice, Zosingh felt a small peel at her lips. "I'm sorry for stepping on your tail," she said. The little girl readjusted her belt while her dog turned his attention from his owner to something much more pressing: the aforementioned "tail".

"You're hopeless," Zosingh muttered with a shake of her head. Her short hair whipped in front of her crow-black eyes for a second as her furry companion began chasing his own tail. She frowned—there surely was something philosophical in the action, wasn't there? Just as she was close to reaching a conclusion to such a quandary...her stomach grumbled.

Food! her body screamed, drawing away her attention. It was useless to argue with herself, which only left her one course of action: eat. Not that there would be anything here. She would have to go to the market first. She shook out her coin purse and counted the tiks as she placed each sliver of gold carefully back in the leather pouch. The stalls wouldn't have the same "fresh" goods as they did on weekends, but she should be able to haggle for bread. While many merchants had steeled their hearts to the sight of starving children like Zosingh, the resourceful child's charisma was extraordinary. And her hands were quicker.

"Daust!" her mother called from atop her perch on the rickety kitchen stool. The older woman tucked a strand of charcoal hair behind where her left ear would have been. It fell back in place and she blew it out of her face while she hammered nails into the aged wood and concrete walls.

"Yes, unchan?" Zosingh replied as she peered her head around the corner into the second room within their abode. Her mom set the rusted hammer down on the bed next to the stove and cast her piercing gaze at her eldest child.

"You're not going to market, are you?" she inquired.

"...no?" Zosingh said while she hid most of her body behind the corner. You had to be ready to bolt at a moment's notice in her house. Running to market was better than staying home and helping cook stew, or being told to watch her little sister. Again.

"Don't lie to me Zoi!" her mother snapped. She grabbed a stained shelf for support as the uneven stool wobbled precariously.

"Fine, yes I'm going to market," she said with a roll of her crescent eyes. "Do you need something?"

"I need my daughter to be back before sundown," the older woman admonished. "You were out past moonrise last week! I want your feet in my house by 6:00 tonight, no later, you hear me?" Zosingh nodded and turned to the door. "You hear me?" her mother called out again.

"Yes unchan!" the little girl shouted before slamming the front door shut. The mother sighed and shook her head, looking to the clock on the wall.

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