Evie being stressed = needing to write even though the writing sucks
Viola reached up to the top shelf and took down her carrier pigeon. The stool she stood on shook as she stretched her arm to reach the highest pearch. The grey bird churped happily and reached down to take the seeds from Viola's extended hand. Slowly, the girl convinced the pigeon to move off of its perch and onto her gloved arm.
As she pigeon sat happily on her arm, Viola wrapped a bit of paper around the pigeon's leg. She tightenned the string to keep the paper on and the pigeon twitched its leg, but continued to stand still, as its training had taught it.
"Now, listen closely, Hayley" Viola brought the pigeon in close to her face as whispered to it. It seemed to her that the pigeon cocked its head to listen to what it was being told. Her mother always told her to "Stop daydreaming about nonsense and get back to work!" whenever she shared her ideas with her, but she believed it nonetheless.
"Hayley, this is the most important message you've carried," Viola continued, "Even more important than letters to Papa when he's away. You have to take this to Waercyn and give it to Maria. She works in the castle, the biggest house of all of them. A hundred times bigger than our house. Can you do that Halyley? Can I trust you?"
Viola stared into her pigeon's yellow eyes. The pigeon met her gaze, and Viola was filled with the feeling that everything would be alright. As the pigeon lifted off her arm and disappeared in the direction of the rising sun, Viola relaxed, the first time she had been able to fully relax in two days.
Unfortuately, her peace was broken as her eyes drifted further south she saw the dust cloud that had first been sighted coming across the plains at dawn, when the light had caught the dust. Only know, the light not only caught dust, but shone off helmets and swords and tall spears.
The fear seeped back into her heart, and she ran out of the little hut in which the birds were kept and down the stair set into the hill.
"Viola, you get down here this minute!" mother called to her from down the hill. Her voice was nearly drowned out by the sounds of babies crying, cows mooing and birds squawking as the great procession of all the villagers came within our castle's walls. Young boys tied cows and horses to posts and herded pigs and sheep into makeshift pens. Chickens were chased across the yard, being caught and stuffed into cages.
Inside, the main hall was filled with whole families, parents watching children as they ran together in the empty space in the middle of the hall, grandparents dozing lightly on blankets on the floor, dogs and cats running around everyone, adding to the confusion.
"Excuse me!" my mother called out, striding into the center of the hall. "Excuse me!"
Viola put her fingers to her lips and blew, creating a long, loud whistle. Her mother gave her a disapproving glare -- whistling was not becming of a young lady -- but moved on, speaking to the crowd whose attention she now had.
"Thank you all for coming here, for your safety. We will try to make you feel at home as much as possible. Please, wait here until I have anything more to tell you. Oh, and one final thing, " she cast a look around the room, "if you could send one girl per family to help me, it would be greatly appreciated. Young boys, outside to help with livestock, please. Any able-bodied man, please, offer your sevices to my husband," she sighed deeply, "we need all the help we can get."
Viola followed her mother out of the room as the noise level began to rise again. Once they were out of the noisy hall, Viola's mother turned to her and stopped. "Can you wait here for the girls? Once they've assembled, meet me in the kitchen yard." she added crisply. She was in charge, hair tied away from her face, apron on, ready for anything. Always the piller of strength.
"Of course mother," Viola nodded, and turned back into the hall, to meet a growing group of girls, most her age, some a bit younger, not many older. Those around 16 or 17 were mostly already married, and had babies of their own to watch. These were the younger sisters, the ones not needed to help the family. As Viola looked into their faces, she saw fear. Lots of fear. It surprised Viola at first, but then she realized, her face was the same, under its strong exterior. The girls clung to one another, staying close for fear of... of what? There were no enemy warriors here. No one to threaten them. They didn't need to be frightenned inside the string castle walls. Nothing could get through the thick rock protecting them. That was what Viola had always been told by her father, when she had a nightmare, or was afraid of raiders inthe spring. "We're safe in the castle walls," he's say soflty, stroking her forehead, "Needn't be frightenned. Nothing can get at you here where you're safe."
Viola had always believed those words. Always. Even as she had grown into more of a woman and less of a young girl, she had held onto the idea that here was a secure haven. Here she was safe.
But looking into the scared faces around her, faces not unlike her own, a seed of doubt was planted, and Vila somehow knew everything she believed was about to change.
A paradox: This sentence isn't true
