Nyssa stood outside of the hut, staring at the villagers passing by, to begin the day's work. Some bowed to her, while others walked past without a glance.
Some were still wary of her and she couldn't blame them. Trauma came with discernment and fear.
She began fastening the dark cloak the Chief had given her, around her shoulders. The fabric was thick enough to shield against the morning breeze.
A black shawl rested over her hair and lower face, leaving only her green eyes to be seen, hiding her features carefully.
She adjusted it one more time. Then exhaled.
The chief had reluctantly agreed for this. Only after several warnings. Only after insisting she remain close to the village outskirts.
And only after assigning her a horse sturdy enough for the rough trails beyond Tulan.
The brown mare stood nearby, staring at her. She chuckled softly when it neighed and walked closer to her.
Nyssa reached out and brushed her hand over its neck and the animal huffed softly.
