Nostalgia

Watching Aino and Impi together, working as the weather slowly, slowly began to warm, made Kirsikka nostalgic. She remembered Velho, barely out of fledging himself, puffed up and irate at any twitch of the weather toward the cold (wherever he had come from, it was apparently much warmer during winter), remembered her struggles and successes with learning her craft, but most of all, she remembered her teacher.

Aleksanteri had been ancient even when she meant him, he and his red-gold spitz that carried on long-dead traditions that had been passed down in his family, father to son... except he had no sons or daughters, no one to carry ancient ways with them. As an adult, Kirsikka understood how it must have hurt him to know that his family traditions would die with him, but at the time she had not even recognized it. Part of her wished she had asked, but another part of her knew that even if she had she would not have truly understood it, immersed in Christianity as she had been.

She held fond memories of him telling her tales of the old gods, of learning old sagas hand in hand with learning the craft of the Wood, of learning how his tales differed from the ones she had been told. She remembered him telling her of how swans could look even into the afterlife; Velho had made an odd noise she had not heard him make since when he heard her relay that, and she still wasn't sure if it was derision, shock, or agreement.

Velho quietly honked and nipped her hand; she was slipping into melancholy again. She shook it off, and stood. She had work to do, knowledge to pass down. "Aino!"

Aino and Impi immediately focused on her, their faces almost identical in seriousness.

"How much do you know about weaving?"

Aino cringed very, very slightly. Clearly, they had been dreading the prospect for a while, ever since Kirsikka had woven them the enchanted dress and told them that she used similar techniques for her cloak. "Not much, Teacher."

"Don't worry, Aino, it might take a bit, but it's not difficult to learn." Aino was clearly unconvinced, but followed Kirsikka without complaint. Internally, Kirsikka hoped that it was because they didn't actually have a complaint and not a subconscious fear of being hit for not complying...

But there was no way for her to know, and Kirsikka did not want a power that took a person's privacy away just to know for certain.

She guided Aino through the steps on her spare loom and made sure they were aware that at any point they could interuppt Kirsikka to ask for help before sitting down at her loom. She gave it a few moments before she began to recite one of the tales her teacher told her, long ago when she had just started to learn the ways of the Wood, of the creation of the world and the primordial sea...