She/her - loc: festival - tags: Tema
With every step across the slanted surface, Jayden angled her boots carefully, knowing one wrong step easily meant breaking something importantโฆ Just like she did last year. Standing on the second story of the local bed and breakfast, the comfy cabin, Jay had taken the afternoon to patch up minor damage brought to the roof by a fallen tree branch. It was always a blessing when the whole tree didnโt decide to come down along with a single branch, a small warning before a much larger problem. Usually the winter wasnโt this kind, and she had plenty of problems to deal with at this point. The peace left behind every fall season was always nice, though she knew it wouldnโt be long now, not with the dark clouds that loomed overhead. She took a deep breath, attempting to physically shake off the gloomy feeling, while still remaining cautious of where she stood.
Kneeling down to hammer in the remainder of her handy work, as with every swing she is reminded exactly why she and winter are on bad terms. The cold usually made a point to remind her of every bone sheโs ever broken, and any muscle sheโs managed to tear. Even now, the scar painted across her right arm, the one given to her from a stray lightning strike about nine years ago, still managed to make her job a bit harder every winter. Her muscles only now began to give off a sore twinge, feeling the air only get colder by the hour. Before her arm could complain any further, she finished the last of her work, taking the back of her gloved hand to wipe away the sweat on her brow.
Once she made a slow descent on her ladder, she was met with the familiar smile of the buildings owner, waiting patiently to offer a hot cup of coffee and a newly woven scarf. They exchanged a few cheerful words, as Jayden folded up the ladder and discarded the broken materials from the roof, securing her own tackle tucked away in her tool belt, before the two began to part ways, wishing each other a safe night. Jay walked along the dirt road leading her back to town, seeing the festival decorations glowing like a beacon in the distant, automatically brought a smile to her face. It was the smell of baked goods and the sound of laughter, that cheerful fuzzy feeling everyone felt around these special holidays, it was everything that made this town truly special.
She had forgotten her scar for a moment, a few sips from her hot beverage seemed to soothe its radiating sore to a dull sting. Accepting that she was now done with work, but still wanting to be heard. One thing she noticed that the scar was good for, itโs pain only persisted when a storm was near. In the past, sheโd been called nutty for suspecting it, right up until the scars predictions came true. People have offered scientific reasoning behind the reactions, maybe sensitivity was heightened after she got tattoos over the scarred skin (A bad idea in hindsight) accepting that predicting storms could certainly be a possibility.
While Jay had been astonished at first, it quickly became a pain, literally and figuratively, though knowing she could at least warn other people about incoming weather was good enough for her. She made the best of something she had no say in. All this to say, her scar didnโt let off the little pain it offered, wanting itโs warning to be known. It didnโt feel big nor did it feel small, probably one the vaguest predictions sheโs ever gotten. She rubbed the sleeve of arm, attempting to warm it up a bit more, stepping onto the stone sidewalk of town square, surrounded by the typical array of colorful booths and warm smiles.
Being surrounded by cheer once more, she decided to let go of her vague concerns for now. Besides, she wouldnโt want to ruin anyoneโs mood with a false warning.
She strolled along town square, admiring what each booth offered, returning smiles and greetings. She kept her tool belt and her work jacket on in case anyone wanted assistance, a yearly tradition she carried on from when her father worked at the festival, hoping that if any problem were to arise, it could be fixed with a hammer. Continuing on down the row of booths, Jaydens eyes landed on a beautiful piece of art on display, recognizing the farmhouse painted across the large canvas. She beamed at the number of paintings she saw, looking to the familiar artist with a grin. โT-Tema! These are g-gorgeous! Howโve y-you been?โ She called out to the other woman, approaching her with a skip in her step. Jay knew these were her pieces without even needing to look at the signature. She knew how much detail Tema put into her art, the variety of colors, and the breathtaking realism of each piece, like you could step right into whatever was shown.
