Forelenes are said to be happy people that depend on their various livelihoods for survival. They are aware of the war, but the people of Forestille choose not to be a part of it. Unlike the Rocainians who have armies of warriors ready to fight and train their children to join these warriors someday, some Forelenes have decided to not even hold a weapon against anyone at all. Darla and her grandfather are farmers that occasionally travel out of town to where their farmland is. Their place of farming was where they found Kaleb, known as Stranger Boy by Darla. When they return from travel, they supply the town’s marketers with these goods._________________________Darla Another bright day dawned in Forestille. People would usually wake up to the sound of the birds tweeting and the ever-lively atmosphere. For me, that had now changed ever since I started living under the same roof as a Rocainian. Pa was gullible. He was too friendly.Be nice and see nice was what he would often say.H

As I caught my breath bending my knees, my eyes suddenly alighted on a figure by the edge of the platform near the lake. It was a familiar black-haired person.With no doubt it was Kaleb, I went a bit closer to this person leaning my head forward to see him. It was actually him. I didn’t make the slightest noise. I stood there feeling annoyed as he had literally made me run for nothing. Also, seeing how Kaleb was, I wondered why he looked that way. His position said sad. The way he sat with his legs folded made him look like a child who had just been abandoned by his parents. I did not feel pity for him and wasn’t expecting myself to. All I wanted was to confront him and bellow out my anger. I would ask him why he chose to make me worry. I would ask him why he didn’t head back home to Pa. I would warn him never to… Never to…I started to hear moaning noises from him. My head moved slightly forward as I tried to confirm if what I heard was correct. The sound continued. I gingerly w

Darla“Did you know one of our family’s been chief before?” Uncle Rustuls began his talk. He continued without waiting for a response, or he probably didn’t even expect one. “Of course you don’t. There’s a chance one of us here years from now could be the next town’s Chief. Darla, are you aware your Grandfather was one of the founders of Forestille and was once chosen to be the town’s Chief?”That one hit me. Grandpa? My humble Pa the farmer? Then why hadn’t he ever spoken of such?“Rustuls, I don’t think the old man would want her hearing this,” Beryl’s father whispered, but one could still hear.“Well, you deserve to know a little of your Pa’s past, if not everything.” Rustuls continued. “Your Pa was more than a farmer back then. He denied leadership and chose to be a far-”“Enough Rustuls!” Beryl’s father proclaimed, making everyone seem tensed up.Rustuls was the talkative one, while Beryl’s father was the opposite. He was calm and thought carefully before he spoke. Rustuls though

Darla “My people?” Kaleb spoke in a calmed voice. “I’m not sure again.” He still faced the lake with an atmosphere devoid of warmth. I paused on hearing him and wondered what words he had to speak of that were worth listening to.What could he possibly have to say to take away this growing anger I have in me, or change things? Well, that was my question until he spoke in this strange way, as if holding in so much hate and also having a mixture of sadness too. More of anger and hate I'd say.Kaleb went on, “I saw those people kill my mother and take my brother away. They forced a warrior to go to his grave even after he had served.”I didn't know what I felt surge through me, but whatever it was made me turn to the little boy.“Wasn't he a Rocainian?” Asked my own self mentally, still in disbelief.I was shocked alright. I knew or heard about the Rocainians cruelty, but never would I have thought Rocainians could be so heartless even towards their own kind.Were we the same here? Me

DarlaLate afternoon hours,Quiet knocks were heard on the front door. The taps were light and sounded almost as if whoever stood on the other side was unsure about knocking. One could even mistake the sound for some random noise that came from the other children playing in the neighbourhood.It was the day of the forest night.I walked to go get it. Slightly perplexed, I paused because the knocking seemed to have ceased for a while. I wondered if the person was still there.I stood still, unsure of opening the door as it felt as if the person was playing games.I looked at the door and asked, “Anyone one there?”There was no reply. I twisted my body to the side about to walk away from the door when the tap began. I felt my brows furrow as I marched to the door.On opening it, it revealed a startled Beryl.“Hello,” said Beryl in an unusually low key. “Darla.”‘Her usual pitch was definitely higher than that for sure’ I thought in my head.Though she appeared as beautiful as always, he