Write something which has to do with: vikings.
Yeah, not sure how I've not used that prompt before.
Still difficult to speak. Maybe one more good sleep will do the trick?
Max had a lot of fun with my parents today. It's wonderful having help keeping him entertained, especially with me being sick.
They arrive under the cover of a night sky filled with star- and moon-obscuring clouds. The longboats slice through the sand and they are out and running before the beach has brought their crafts to a complete stop. Swords and axes and spears in hand, shields and iron helmets providing protection they don't seem to need.
Especially on this night.
They are expecting a village of vulnerable weaklings, of elders and women and children. Ripe for the plundering. Utterly unprepared for an attack.
Except look at them. Going from house to house, the confusion on their faces growing more prominent with each empty discovery. They are gathering in the square now, talking in their harsh language, but quietly. Looking around, at each other. But not up.
That's good. We are hidden here, in the highest branches of the surrounding trees, but I would not want them to look too closely, even at night. Because we are weak, and elderly, and far too young. Our warriors are far away, on a raid of their own. But we are not unprepared.
We were warned, and we have heeded that warning.
They linger for a few moments more before beginning to return to their boats. Is that fear I see on a face or two? Even better. They are less likely to pay us another visit if they believe our absence is magical or divine.
We do not wish to see them again. For if we do, we will not have the benefit of the warning we received this time. Not that he would have been able to tell us what they plan next without returning to their company, but the scout we captured has already been put to rest.
We watch them as they return to the sea. We breathe easier as they disappear into the darkness from which they came. We remain in the trees until dawn comes once more. Just in case. And only then do we return to the ground and our routines and tasks and try not to look to the sea between each heartbeat in our chests.