Here is another passage from the first chapter.
Being around Lark stirred guilt within me, for my mother had wanted us to be dear friends like her and Lark’s mother, Auntie Carajil. I befriended Lark for my mother’s sake, and most days, Lark’s charm made it easy. But today, I didn’t welcome the intrusion.
Inhaling deeply to curb my annoyance, I relaxed my brow and pasted a smile on my face before turning in her direction.
“Lark! What brings you out on a blustery day such as this?”
She scampered to catch up to me. “I was coming to visit you,” she said, giggling breathlessly. “Grandmama Iva said you were on your way to Sven’s. Mind if I join you?”
I scuffed the snow with the heel of my clog. I definitely minded. Of all the fellows in Petheralm, Lark set her sights on my dearest friend. She became a simpering fool in his presence, and I wasn’t in the mood for such nonsense today.
“We’re going hunting,” I said.
“I know that.” She giggled again, nonplussed by my matter-of-fact tone. “Grandmama told me. But it’s been ever so long since I’ve seen Sven, and I thought I’d keep you company while you walk.”
Ever so long since she’d seen him? I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Two days ago, she was helping Grandmama at the cottage when Sven and I had returned empty-handed from fishing. She quickly forsook her task to walk him home.
Shaking my head, I turned on my heel and resumed my journey. She immediately fell in step beside me.
“If you and Sven catch the deer—”
“Kill, Lark, not catch. We’re going to kill it.”
She playfully punched my arm. “I know, you silly goose. If you kill it, Grandmama says it will feed the entire village. Is that true?”
I shrugged. “Sven said the tracks look like a buck’s. A buck would feed the village at least one decent meal.”
Check back next month; I'll begin highlighting Chapter 2.