Safe Haven: Regeneration » Places

         

Reyna was walking back to the house with the bucket full of milk. From where she stood in the field she could hear the roosters crowing and could tell that soon the house would begin to stir with early morning excitement. The sun's beautiful motif was beginning to give way to blue sky and white clouds; Reyna could feel the moisture in the air and could tell that later it was going to rain.

Reyna had always loved the rain, it was one of the few times when she felt truly happy. She carefully opened the door to the mud room and took off her boots, she headed to the kitchen and placed the bucket on the table. Her foster mother was already awake and making breakfast, her foster father was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. "Good morning Reyna!" He stood up to greet the girl and took the bucket to filter the fat out of the milk (they used the fat to make pastries because the fat on top of the milk was very sweet).

Reyna took a seat and wondered where the farm hands and stable boy were. A lot of people inhabited the massive house, it was almost never this quiet. "Morning," Reyna smiled and took a seat. The stable boy, Leon, a kid who had come from America to pursue his dreams as an archaeologist came into the kitchen next. Rey had always thought that he was cute, brown hair sparkling green eyes; strong too.

What was she thinking? Reyna could never be with a guy like him, especially not with her... flaws. Reyna stared at the table, purposely trying to avoid eye contact. When her foster mother put the food on the table Rey served herself and ate quickly, what day was it? Did she have school today? She never really payed attention to her schedule, she usually relied on her foster mother reminding her that she was going to miss the bus if she didn't finish breakfast.

"When you're done eating Reyna I'd like you and Leon to go take Zues and Athena for a ride," Zues and Athena were two of the resident horses. Both were very high energy and needed to be taken out a lot. "Alright," Reyna buttered the role on her plate and bit into it, the crispy flakiness of the dough melting on her tongue. If baking was an art Reyna was sure that her foster mother would be the equivalent to Picasso. It looks like there was no school today.