Territorial Dispute [A couple years after Sif moved to Midgard] (tag: Rosmerta)
Sif ran her hands along the tall wheat, enjoying the soft strokes along her palms. It was in good shape for the early part of July, and with a lttle encouragement it would be in perfect condition by the time it was ready to harvest in just a couple weeks. Sif was determined to make it the best harvest season this area had ever seen.
When Sif had first left Asgard, she had been unsure what to do. She'd taken care of the immediate necessities first, and then sat there in her little home, doing little more than moping about for the first year. The second year got a little better, as she came to realize there was nothing she could do to change anything that had transpired, and the best thing to do was just move on. As she got toward the end of the second year, she really began to notice something was missing.
It was then she realized she had been slacking. The people needed her, and she needed them. It was what she did, and she had been leaving their fortunes and harvests open to whatever random events might occur. She opened up, realizing people were still asking for her. After all that time of feeling guilty, and alone, and sorry for herself, she began to feel something else. Shame. Sif was ashamed to be called a harvest goddess. Once she realized that, she got up and began to work.
This season she had given it her all, and people were already talking about what a good harvest it would be if the weather held. Sif couldn't control the weather, but she could do as much as she could. She paused to look at the river, so beautiful in the sunlight, then prepared to turn and follow its bank. She knew of a pumpkin patch not far away that might need a little looking at.