Ficlets

Night had fallen upon the small kumpania as they finally set up their camp for the next week or so. Ion watched the fire for a while and let his muscles relax against the ground. They had been traveling for days before they caught sight of another town and he was glad they could settle down for a while. He sat up and ran a hand through his black curls and sighed as they fell back into his brown eyes. He pulled a piece of leather from his pocket and used it to tie his hair back, though a few shorter, unruly curls stayed around his eyes and he puffed a breath at them to move them. It didn’t work. The scent of meat and potatoes floated on the air as a group of women bustled around preparing dinner. Ion’s stomach growled and he stood, stretching his arms over his head for a moment. A warm breeze touched the bare skin of his open shirt and ruffled the ends of the bright sash that was now falling from his waist. He tied it again, firelight dancing across the mirrors sewn into it to ward off the Evil Eye.