“Papa! My feet hurt! Can we please rest?”
Sweet, sweet, Gerda. The voice of young girl seemingly echoed through-out the Oropovo as she made her request well known, though practically blurting it out. Still even in her irritated state she had the grace to keep to her manners, her
please drawn out and exaggerated. It was enough to cause Alden to allow himself a small smile, and even though he would never openly admit it, was ultimately what won him over. It was funny in a way normally he’d take his daughter of eight years on long extended hikes in the surrounding areas of their village. She seemed to enjoy herself so much then. Back when things were more…stable. Alden looked to his daughter who was now lagging behind whether intentionally or due to genuine fatigue he could no longer. With a small sigh he waited for her to catch up and gently placed his arm around her shoulders, running a finger across her cheek guiding a small bundle of loose hair back behind her ear. Even now despite her obvious frustration with the whole situation, she still managed to conjure a small smile as she clasped on to her father’s hand.
“Oh come now, little lily. You used to love going on adventures! Where’s that adventures spirt eh?”
“But Papa, this adventure is taking toooo long! Besides there’s nothing to see up here but boring rocks and shrubs…”
“Ha, ha, ha! Okay, tell you what. Why don’t we take a seat right over there on that boulder and you can sing me that song Mrs. Oddette taught you while check on ol’ Ida?” Ida had been the third member of their little trio. A fine Nueva Ardian Criollo cow with a spattered pattern of light tan and white. As Alden understood it, they were brought over from Ardia in the early days of colonial period and quickly became favored over the Tytorian Southmark mainly due to the docility. Not that any of that matter much anymore. Ida had been the last remains of Alden’s financial legacy one built on the hard work of tilling the Oropovo’s soil and caring for the cattle of the village. Now all that was left of his herd was this singular stubborn cow. His Ida, his legacy, and Fulla willing, what would provide him and his daughter with a future.
“But I don’t know all the words yet! You can’t sing if I don’t know all the words, Papa.”
“You can’t, huh? Well, I don’t believe that! Here, why don’t you hum it out first then the words will come along. Plus, you have such a lovely voice Gerda. A’int that right Ida?” A simply
Moo sounded from the cow. Probably answering more to the sound of its name than the proposed question, still it was enough to earn a giggle out of Gerda and that was more than enough for Alden
“Papa!”
My sweet, sweet Gerda. As the girl began humming, Alden took the time to look over the cow. So far she looked healthy enough and none of the signs were obvious on it, hell out of the three of them Ida was probably the least bothered by the trek probably just as excited as ever to finally see whatever lies beyond the fence. In a way Alden envied the creature. No worries about the future, no past to haunt it, not nights filled with anxiety about how to provide for its child. Just blissfully unaware and content. Ignorant that numerous of its fellow bovines across the country were dropping like flies, and no one seemed to know why or what to do. Including Alden.
It was why the three of them had left their little village, their home. Their paradise on earth that was one of many of the Orpovo’s valleys, as humble as it may have been. Now they had to make a last-ditch effort to trek from their village through the Oropovo, to the east. Possibly even leave the entire Ilirne plateau if necessary. All Aldren had to do was find someone, anyone, who would buy Ida off the him then he could find some respite in knowing he had a way to feed Gerda for a while until he found another job. That was all that mattered.
* * *
The had been walking for days now possibly even a week or two. No one, not a single person, was interested in Alden’s cow. Money was slowly running out, they were eating less and less each day, and more than anything they were tired. Even Ida was slowing in her pace now, while Gerda once a Jovial girl had now grown silent for the most part. Alden took no pleasure in accepting the charity of others. How could he, it was
his duty to provide for his child. His sole purpose in this world, and now he could no longer even mange that. Yet, he no longer was in control of such things. Alden now had to swallow his pride and hide his shame whenever Gerda sought his comfort. They had managed to find themselves in some other mountain side village nothing too fancy, but it had a small pub which doubled as something of a common house and at this point Alden didn’t care to budget anymore. Money was going to run out eventually, and at this rate far before they left this damn plateau.
At this realization Alden forcefully slammed his mug on the table out of frustration, causing his daughter to jump at the sudden outburst.
“Pa..”
“…sorry, Lily. Papa’s just…thinking is all.” Alden simply sighed. It was clear the girl wouldn’t be satisfied with this vague and avoidant response. She was worried. What was worse, she was worried about
him. Damn it all, this isn’t how its supposed to be!
As dusk had settled Alden had managed to make arrangements with the patron of the common house, Lucretia, who was charming women and understanding enough. From what Alden had gathered from her he was not the only one with this predicament, the village had seen a fair share of financial refugees pass out east. Apparent afflicted with the same fate Alden had. It was because of this Lucretia was willing enough to allow them to stay in her edifice. Much to Alden’s further shame. Though at least Gerda seemed to take a liking to Lucretia, who in turn reciprocated the feeling.
“Hey Lily, why don’t you go see if Mrs. Lucretia needs any more help in the kitchen, ja? I’m just going to take a… walk.”
“But what about Ida?” The girl whined appalled that their fellow traveler would be left alone.
“Yes, yes, I’ll take Ida with me. Gonna need someone to keep me eh” Alden replied, to the satisfaction of his daughter who promptly skipped her way to Lucretia humming along the way. Even now, when she clearly was tiring, she managed to muster the energy to appear jovial even if Alden new it to be a façade. At least he knew she would be safe, for now.
* * *
The suns orange glow sprawled across the skey clashed with the darkening blue of the coming night creating a varying mesh of pinks and purples. Had things been normal Alden would’ve taken these twilight walks to relax before bed. Now all he could do was try and combat his racing mind filled with thoughts of frustration, desperation, and anxiety. The occasionally ‘moo’ and steady beating of Ida’s hooves on the path just barley keeping him from outright breaking down. Eventually Alden allowed himself to collapse upon the side of a while. It was only from the sporadic shuffling of Ida’s hooves that Alden then noticed the figure before him. A Teuton like himself and flashing Alden an unnatural smile.
“My, my,
Kumpel, that’s a fine one there!” The man began, gesturing towards Ida.
“Not seen many as healthy as that one. Well not really seen any, to be honest. Er-alive, anyway.” As he continued he slowly moving closer to Alden and his cow.
“I suppose not. Don’t suppose you’re from around here?”
"Suppose you could say that. I’m a bit of a… collector see. And you, Kumpel, have a mighty fine prize there…” Before Alden could even react, the stranger already had a gun at head. The cold uncaring metal of the muzzle pressing into his temple, ever threatening to make his world go dark.
So, it was, the case of Alden Behrend would be one of many. A mere statistic of a larger issue. The dreaded Yellowtounge Illness.
OOC Notes:
1.
Kumpel: German for friend, but more along the lines of 'buddy' and less cordial.
