Week 37: Nomads (Prompt: A story about a scientific discovery)
The winds still blow cold, which means the Spring crops will fail. We must leave now, and plant when we arrive, in three full moons. Autumn will come soon after, but with warmth and plentiful sun. There will be a crop.
We will travel close to the ridge on the windward side, where the rains fall and feed the small streams. We will fish in the higher lakes, not the lower, where the water is already poisoned with the blowing dust.
I am afraid to hear these things, but I trust. I too will learn the ancient magic one day.