Waking up is never nice. Especially when it's accidental. Do you like to be woken up at four AM? Never. It's the fucking worst.
Tonight was a normal night, but still slightly different. It felt as if the sky trembled a bit. Only slightly, but enough to be remarkable.
But the world still carried on. The slight breeze outside was rustling in the trees and bushes, and the tall grasses were waving in the wind. The cold air of the winter night stung on Njal' exposed skin.
The frail hair on his body stood up, in a tame imitation of an angry cat. He couldn't see much in the vast darkness that surrounded him, but what he could do was feel. He could feel the warmth of his parents and siblings around him. The thick blanket of grasses lay determined on them, and kept in their fragile warmth.
No one else was awake yet. It was still much too early for anyone to dream about opening their eyes.
He decided that it must have been a nightmare that woke him up. He closed his eyes once again, but an ominous feeling kept tingling him, just enough enough to stay restless. What felt like hours of an odd mixture of boredom and angst, must not have lasted much more than thirty minutes, as the comfort of the bed overwhelmed the fleeting feeling of a nightmare.
As the sunlight began to shine, no one was still sleeping. They had all been awake for hours since the winter sun rose late. It was soon winter solstice, so people had to work in the dark.
The only light in the many sunless winter hours would be candles, but burning oils and fat, would be the same as committing suicide, just slightly slower. Why use something so valuable for light, when having enough candles for a month of light, could have supplemented the whole family for weeks. And those would have been fantastic weeks, since living with oils and fat was much better than watered down porridge and beet stew. On a lucky day, you could maybe get bread and beans.
As the cabbage was being boiled in the water from the small river, Njal was feeding the hens and rooster their daily grains.
'Such a waste', he thought. 'We could be eating those.' It was a common thought of his. Now that the snow covered the fields with a fine layer of white powder, shining whiter light into his eyes, there was nothing for the animals to eat.
The worst part was that even though all the food was waiting for next year to come, the animals of the forest weren't as patient. Several birds had gone missing throughout the year, and it was especially bad in the winter. They wouldn't let the eggs hatch in the winter because the chickens consumed much, but gave nothing in return. It was almost negligible in spring and summer when worms, grasses and flies were abundant, but food was scarce and hard to come by at the moment.
In Autumn, if the fox could get the chickens before the humans, it would be a tragedy. Chickens weren't rare, but we're expensive during winter. Therefore they would be eaten in the early winter months, and only the best would be kept. They had already lost three.
As he was eating lunch with his family, (four sisters, five brothers, his parents and grandmother) he couldn't stop thinking about what happened that night. He had never felt anything of the sort before, not even in nightmares. But as usual, his thoughts passed onto something else, and he continued his day.