While Jacob, Ollie and Apple continued their lessons, Ash went about her new island duties—scouring the forest for dead wood to use for the cooking fires and preparing meals for the whole house. Her first attempt at making the famous fish soup that seemed to be everyone's favourite was a disaster. She put so much dried chilli in it, nobody could eat so much as a spoonful without burning their tongues and sweating through their robes. But instead of scolding her for the mistake, the whole of Phoenix House praised her up—saying it was about time someone got inventive with the herbs and spices, even re-naming her creation 'dragon breath soup'. One elderly man even said she cured his constipation.
She began to feel more and more accepted as the weeks passed and with routine came a certain stability with her force—wake up, get dressed, tie Gunner's knife into her hair (it always made her feel more at ease), have breakfast, collect firewood, cook, clean, lunch, more chores, dinner, and fall into bed. She found she could ignore the nagging, pulling, itchy feeling by keeping busy. There was always something that needed doing.
Her constant obsession with keeping busy didn't go unnoticed. Ollie and Apple tried to coax her into a game of cards one day after lunch, as it was their turn to have the afternoon off island duties. She politely declined in favour of pulling weeds in one of the gardens. The next day, Gus stopped her on her way past the training field to suggest she joined them for a game of soccer. She declined, of course for, even as they spoke, she could feel the fire rising up and pressing outwards urgently. She quickly rushed away, muttering something about the Dartstrom going to seed and having to get them in the ground before the next rains came.
By the next week the rains hadn't come and she'd begun to feel increasingly unfocussed. The itch was becoming harder and harder to ignore and the urge to burn things ever present in her mind. It was so strong at times that she had to physically restrain her hands, to stop them from rising to grant the fire its request.
The rest of Phoenix House began to notice her growing reclusiveness, the way she would hide in her room and barely eat any of her dinner, only stopping to talk to someone if they asked her a direct question. Worried mummers followed her out of the room each night until one day, she woke to find Oroton waiting outside her room with good natured reproof in his eyes. "I hear you're the hardest working Wanderer on this island," he said.
Ash ducked her head, her knotted neck-muscled straining uncomfortably. She guessed someone had told him how she'd passed up another soccer match to help construct beehives with the Terra Flora house.
"I'd like you to take the day off. Get some rest. Go for a walk. Do something leisurely."
She opened her mouth, an excuse on the tip of her tongue, when he cut her off by holding up his hand.
"I have already told all the houses that if they see you so much as lifting a finger today, they are to come and see me." He turned to leave. "Oh, and Sprout, you know you can always come and speak to me... about anything."
And that was that. Without saying another word, he left down the tunnel, leaving her staring into darkness. Panic rose in her chest. She had a whole fourteen hours to kill, with nothing meaningful to fill it. A whole fourteen hours to endure the fear of accidentally losing control. She felt her panic rise and her feet begin moving off towards the training field as they'd done everyday since she'd discontinued her training. Up the rope ladder, across the dusty training field and into the forest as she'd done every day. But instead of veering left towards the gardens, she veered right into the forest, setting her direction for the opposite side of the island, where the chance of seeing anyone was slim—the denseness of the trees slowed efficiency.
Her plan? To get as far away from every living soul on the island as possible.
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