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Born in the forest
Sitting on a lot of dry straw covered with a sheet, Aura modeled a piece of wood almost as long as one of her arms with her gubia. Completely focused, not even Emmanuel’s amber eyes that looked fixed, fascinated at the agile movements of the small experienced hands, managed to distract it.
The scratch of the wood had been the only sound that had been heard in the clearing since Aura began his task, until a slight sigh escaped from his mouth and broke into the air.
—What name will we put the ladle? She asked, incessantly her work.
-Name? Aura nodded.
"That’s right, name. Whenever we know the name of what we want it to stay with us, it will be more difficult for a day to abandon us. Sudden, he stopped the gouge and threw a look at Emmanuel’s face.
"That’s why we’re left with nothing, even without a bucket. I had forgotten how important it is to baptize everything you want me to stay with you. When parents place names their children do it for that reason. And turning his back to the boy with a rapid turn of his body, he resumed his work. He kept his thighs tense and held the wood on them firmly. To each past of the tool, this was closer and more to its future form. On the girl’s lap, after being torn by steel, small wooden curls fell, like a hundred tiny canoes who sailed through the tanned skin of her thighs.
Emmanuel remained his words until finally
-Who? He interrogated Aura’s voice.
"The ladle."!, His name is Chaon!
A giggle escaped her breath. He had tilted even more when he turned around and, helped by his hair, rocking to the wind, now he completely moved Emmanuel the vision of the art of his hands. It was always. But not:
Maybe he had changed slightly since they were both alone. Before, he did not allow them to speak to him while he was busy, he even preferred to move away from the group to be alone. Now he spoke more than he used to and sometimes heard her muttering the ideas that he threw in his head, almost as if he were aware that absolute silence was stormy. He, in the same way, should be changing. The others, where they were, would surely have changed.
"I like Charon," Aura replied, Serena—. Once ready we will baptize it. But now, I need to get the fire. We can not cook the rabbit without a good fire, so everything has to be ready for when it arrives charon, is it worth? Emmanuel nodded without her seeing him. Fire. The horizon’s brain was already beginning to give in to the darkness and the heat of the day was dispersed quickly. The girl’s strands, stirred by the wind, made her be aware that she would soon blow enough to turn on fire was a problematic task.
He still didn’t have enough confidence in his skills. Just a few months ago Aura had taught him how to light a spark, what wood and leaves were the most appropriate and what utensils could be helpful according to circumstances according to circumstances. Fortunately, he still retained the piece of hard glass that Gabriel gave him when he had been his guest, which always facilitated the task.
"This will suffice," said a slight smile, while remembered Gabriel’s hospitality to palpate the small glass inside his bag. Determined, he went into the grove that was as the field ascend, next to his modest camp. While leaving behind the sound produced by the emerging bucket under the gouge, he noticed how the shadows of the trees were projected long and diffuse before the sunset sun. Soil lighting was scarce. He was hope, however, that this time of the year did not bring many rains, so it was easy to find good wood on the leaf litter;Fresh water sources were another story.
He did not give more than a hundred steps before finding a gigantic brown with dying appearance. From its grayish trunk, a very lively green offspring arose with shy. Emmanuel rejoiced when he saw that around him lay countless twigs waiting to be used as fuel. He extended a great scarf woven on the ground and began to stack those that seemed more ideal for the fire.