They continued on the moment the sun rose.

Cyrus and Iamar's words stayed in Migisi's mind into the morning, and she was not sure how she could stop it. She figured that it had to be a dream, but then why did it feel so real? Did her mother know of this too? Did Cyrus and Iamar visit her while she slept as well? Whatever the case, Kwanita did not bring the subject up, whether because she did not dream of them or she did not want to frighten her daughter, Migisi wasn't sure.

But anything could have been better than the silence.

They traveled until the sun was halfway across the sky, and they were now traveling in fields of purple flowers. Migisi fingered each one they passed, mesmerized by their simple beauty, and she even brought it upon herself to pick a few of them for Kwanita. Honan also took it upon himself to join her, though he picked much more than his sister did.

By the time they returned to their mother, the only thing Migisi could see of the top part of her brother was his hair.

Kwanita stared at Honan in bewilderment for a moment, before she began to chuckle, then giggle, then laugh out loud. Honan grinned in victory, while Migisi looked between her mother and brother, confused on what was so funny.

And what was this feeling in her chest?

"Oh Honan, Migisi, what are you two doing?" asked Kwanita once she calmed herself.

Honan's smile disappeared while his cheeks turned red, almost the color of tomatoes. "W-We picked these for you Mother."

Kwanita smiled softly before she got to her knees. "You should not pick so much flowers my sons, it will not be good for the flowers."

Both children blinked. "What do you mean?" asked Honan.

Kwanita picked up a flower, eyeing it sadly. "When a flower is picked, it will not last long. Plant life cannot live without dirt, water, and the light of the sun, and without one of them, they will wilt until nothing is left of them. They look fine now, but soon they will wilt."

Migisi flinched, and as if the flowers stung her, she threw them back into the fields, guilt coursing through her. Honan did the same, tears appearing in the corners of his eyes, and Migisi even heard him muttering apologies to the flowers, how he didn't know.

Then both children yelped when Kwanita swooped them up into a hug, her warmth and smile erasing any guilt and horror from them.

"Do not fret my children," she whispered to them. "They will come back, and you did not know. Next time you will only admire them and not pluck them. You can do that for Mother, can you?"

Migisi and Honan nodded.

With another smile, Kwanita straightened, her children still in her hold, and looked over the horizon. Migisi and Honan followed her eyes, just as a light wind blew past, taking some of the petals of the flowers with them. Migisi watched, transfixed, and suddenly had the urge to run through the fields, to smell the flowers, to caress their petals and stems, to feel the sun on her face, everything, even after she plucked those poor plants.

Kwanita knelt back down, setting her children on the ground. "Go on my sons," she urged gently. "I will be right here waiting."

Smiling, Migisi and Honan took off running right into the fields.

As she ran through the fields of flowers, the soft petals and the scent of the flowers caressing her senses, Migisi felt all her worries melt away and the feeling of euphoria and freedom overtake it. She spread out her arms, allowing the flowers to caress her more and the stems to slap against her. The dirt, despite being uneven, was gentle on her feet, and with each footstep, Migisi compelled herself to run faster.

A strange sound was heard above her, and Migisi looked up into the sky, but did not stop running. What she saw made her eyes widen with wonder.

It was a bird, but it wasn't like anyone she had ever seen. It's feathers were as dark as the soil underneath her, but its head was made up of pure white feathers. Its beak was the color of the sun itself, and its body was strong and powerful. Then, as if sensing her eyes on it, the bird looked down at her, then let out another squawk that sounded so majestic that Migisi was urged to follow it when it took off in another direction.

And she did. She ran through the fields, keeping the beautiful creature in her sights, her long wheat hair flying with the wind and her smile spreading. Her lungs and body started to hurt, but she didn't care. She wanted to follow this bird forever, know its purpose, its name, everything.

Then she collided into something sturdy.

The creature screeched as Migisi flew back to the ground, stunned, and as she recovered, she saw the creature before her making scared noises, its hooves stomping into the ground and its bright hair flying with the wind. Migisi began to back away, now scared herself, especially when multiple pairs of footsteps began to stomp her way.

A man's voice yelled over the screaming horse, and Migisi could see the reins being yanked, forcing the horse to go a certain direction. She watched as a man with long dark hair, dark skin, and a strong body fought to get the horse under control, his dark eyes not looking her way.

Though Migisi didn't have time to see that, for more men surrounded her, arrows drawn and their faces full of hostility.

One of them hissed something at her, but Migisi couldn't understand what they were saying. She began shaking, wrapping her small arms around herself as her eyes burned with unshed tears.

The man screamed at her again, drawing his arrow even deeper, and Migisi cried out in fear.

"Please!" she cried. "Leave me be! I did not mean to scare the horse! Please, leave me be!"

The men did not understand her, and the man who screamed at her turned towards the others and talked to them, their arrows and clubs ready to pummel her. Migisi shut her eyes, waiting for the pain to strike.

Then she heard a voice, a familiar voice. And it was speaking in a language she did not understand.

Then, Kwanita was kneeling beside her, a worried expression on her face, but her eyes stayed on the men.

She spoke again, seeming to be pleading. The men were eyeing Kwanita with wide, horrified eyes, and before Migisi could understand what was happening, they dropped their weapons and collapsed to their knees, bowing before Kwanita.

They were speaking now, probably a prayer to Kwanita and, from their postures and voice tones, pleas of forgiveness. Meanwhile, Migisi felt Honan embrace her hard, which she returned completely.

After a bit of talking, Kwanita motioned for the men to stand, which they did, and she turned to her children.

"Migisi," she began, her voice low, "what were you thinking?"

Migisi felt her cheeks heat up in response to her shame. "Mother, I--"

"I said you could play in the fields, but nowhere did I say you could leave the fields. Do you know how worried I was when you took off running elsewhere?"

Migisi didn't say a word.

"Not only that, but when your brother and I find you, you are caught in a misunderstanding!" Kwanita was making angry hand motions as she spoke. "You could've been killed!"

"I..." Migisi could feel her eyes burn with tears, which slowly cascaded down her cheeks. "I'm sorry Mother..."

Kwanita said nothing, but she walked towards her daughter and got to her knees, all while Migisi stared at the ground, too ashamed to look her mother in the face after what she did. She knew the extent of what almost happened, but that bird...that bird was so beautiful that she wanted to go after it. She never thought...

Oh spirits of the earth and sky, she was a horrible daughter.

Migisi flinched when she felt Kwanita's fingers touch her chin, propelling it upwards so she was looking at her mother.

"You must understand Migisi, the world is full of dangers, and if you are not cautious, you could get hurt or, spirits forbid, killed. There will come a time when I cannot protect you, a time when your brothers cannot protect you."

Migisi blinked up at Kwanita. "Mother?"

Kwanita smiled sadly. "You are still a child my son, but when you are older, you will understand."

She then returned to her feet, facing the men once more to speak to them in their language, and leaving Migisi to watch her mother, confused and wanting to learn more. However, she doubted Kwanita would answer, for she was right; she was still a child, and she did not understand, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to.

But Honan's voice drew her attention.

"What were you thinking?!" he demanded, his voice as low as a whisper. "Do you realize how scared I was when you began running into the forest?"

The shame returned. "Forgive me brother," she whispered back. "I did not know."

"You did not know." Honan did not sound pleased at her answer. "You almost got yourself killed Migisi!"

"I know, I know!" Migisi glared at Honan. "I already understand the extent of my decision, so do not repeat what Mother has already told me. I have learned my lesson, so please, do not make it worse for me."

Honan looked like he wanted to keep speaking, but nothing came forth. Eventually, his face relaxed to an exhausted expression, an expression that made his eyes turn almost as dark as the evening sky.

"Forgive me Migisi," he said, still whispering. "I was reacting out of fear."

Migisi smiled weakly. "I understand Brother, truly. I would have done the same if it was you."

Honan smiled tiredly.

Then Kwanita returned, smiling down at her children gently. Behind her, the men followed, eyeing the children with weariness, but their fears from before were nowhere to be seen. Migisi looked up at her mother, confused.

"Migisi, Honan," she began, "these men are from the Na'i tribe. They are about to lead us back to their village."

Migisi had to keep herself from jumping. "Mother, why would...why are we going there?"

"They offered us a home and protection Migisi," Kwanita answered. "And we have been on the road for a long while, so we should find a new home now. You have my word that we are safe with the Na'i, I promise you."

It was hard to believe her, but Migisi wanted to believe her mother, she truly did. And as they followed the men to their village, Migisi hoped things would not end as poorly as with the last tribe.

She didn't want to feel unsafe in her own home again. Not ever again.