//------------------------------//
// Hawkeye - Chores I 
// Story: Gods 
// by TheTimeSword 
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Growing up with the remnants of kin, it was essential to learn specific practices. To be seen by the unseen would be the end, and as such, to hide from the hidden would mean life another day. Chores had to be set by the scouts of the remnants, perimeters managed, and lines needed to be sown. It was not an easy task by any such means, the unseen did not have to leave prints on the snow or grass or mud.

Even so, the mare dragged her body around the ruins, eyeing the land that surrounded the sanctuary. Though blank trees in sprouted every direction, the property itself remained flat. It was a boon for the mare, to be able to see kilometers in every direction. Not only that, but if the unseen walked instead of flew, they would knock down trees and warn the mare long before she saw the celestial.

First, she made an escape route, which consisted of traveling between broken, rundown homes. Though only frames and rubble remained, they provided excellent cover to crawl against should the need arise. Her biggest fear was that of sound. The crackling of snow beneath her hooves - crunching with every step - a deadly noise.

Secondly, she needed to make the necessary sacrifice. She serpentined into the forest of the barren trees. If any smell were caught, whether by wildlife or not, the jumbled mess of paths would confuse and bewilder the hunter. This was vital to the process. She would need to follow the awkward trail back as well. 

Upon finding a flat rock that slanted into the earth as if the ground was eating it, the mare took the wrapped, bloody cloth from her bag. Undoing it, she dumped the meat as best she could without coating it in the snow. Snow, dirt, and mud detracted the smell for the unseen. That's what the mare had always been told, at least, and though she spat in the ideals of what remained taboo, this was not something she would deny. She hoped a wild animal would not get this offering. The unseen would hunt the beast down, possibly entering the ruins of the past and discovering her instead.

Before she vacated the area, she spoke a small prayer. It wasn't for her or the rabbit, though the poor critter did not deserve its fate. No, it was for the gods. She prayed they would take her humble offering and not grow resentful, scouring the earth for her.

With a brief inhale, she held her breath, feeling the cold in her lungs. Following the path she had made back to the ruins, the mare glanced up at the grey clouds just as a flake fell in front of her. Her brows pinched together beneath her hood as she realized her mistake. Trotting as quickly as she could, she scrapped her wary, roundabout path. Upon nearing the ruins, she saw that smoke still wafted up from the collapsed venue. A good sign, she thought. The spirits of the past had not forsaken her, spitting on the warmth she had made.

Pushing through the entrance, the mare rushed to the room she had claimed as her own. Tearing off the hide she had used for a sheet, she dragged it across the ground with her teeth, pulling it out to the fire. Using a pile of rubble, the mare stacked two towers around the fire. Once she finished, she threw the hide over the new structures and placed more stone to prevent it from blowing off. Keeping a side open, the mare made sure that no snowfall could flutter onto the flames and kill her source of life. 

Her chores remained unfinished, however. Though the storm was almost upon her, the mare took the opportunity to search the corridor that held her claimed quarters.

There was another passage on the opposite side of the entrance, along with the second level that held two more paths leading down both sides. Hawkeye cared not to search them until the storm had passed, time ruptured those three with rubble. It would become a sore task to clear with cold and wind making it much worse. 

With the fire managed by some extra kindling, the mare made a note of the possible rooms within her hall. It reminded her of the cave the remnants of kin had existed in, though doors were nonexistent within their earthen home. The elders had made sure the kin followed the past generations, stating closed entries were for the ancients to hide their emotions, secrets, and shame. It was more evident to the mare now as to why the burdensome wooden barriers were not needed for the remnants. The door that sat across from her own let out a wailing screech as she tugged it open, which would have reverberated among the kin's cavernous walls.

To the mare's surprise, there was an opening at the opposing wall. It was shaped like an egg, though she had no clue why. Did the ancients fear no evil as to allow gaping holes within their quarters? Had the mare seen such an oddity before, she would have asked the elders, but that was impossible now.

With the light coaxed into the room from the strange opening, the mare could see how intense the damage became. The box of wood had rotted so heavily that as she tugged on one of the compartments, the knob came off. The comfy bedding was gone from this room and the frame that held it was lying limply on the floor. Water stains coated the ceiling like dirty rivers, and some still dripped onto the rotted floorboards. 

All the rooms that sat on this side of the hall were alike. Each had their own strange opening to the outside world.

Those that ran the span of her quarter's side were much like her own, mostly untainted by the decay of life and time. There was nothing valuable or worthwhile within any of these other than the same sort of garments she had found within her wooden box. 

It wasn't until she came to the room next to her own that she found something of use. The back wall had crumbled forward, leaving a gap and path up to the level above. The contents of both had been shattered, but she was thankful that she would not have to undo her hides to glide up a single floor.

She chose to leave the rest of her search for tomorrow.