Lush and green were the hills. Finally. After what felt like an eternity of winter. And not just any winter. The bitterest, most unforgiving season of cruel ice and winds that cut like steel in the hands of a man with nothing to lose. She hadn't know a cold like that in all her life.
She paused briefly on the roadside to drink it the scene. The ground was muddy and her boots heavy with the earth they carried, but it was a minor inconvenience. Setting down her bundle, she stretched her young back, still pliable but used to bending by now.
Fresh air, with only the very slightest slightest breeze was cool and sweet. The livestock dotted the face of the green hills with freckles black and brown. She watched the young ones gallop and play with one another while the elders looked on, wise enough to move slowly and save energy.
At twenty years old she’d been working hard already for seven years, and knew without giving it much thought what her fate would be. Like her mother and grandmother, she would grow old and bent, her body pushed and pulled and used up in the service of others until she broke, too early, but with great relief.