Here are the first thirteen:

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I was baking flatbreads on the hearthstone when I saw my sister walk out of the forest.

I paused, disbelieving. She had left us, many years ago, to become a hermit. She had turned her back on Nayen and me, and we had never heard of her afterwards. We had thought her safely ensconced within the forest, weathering monsoon after monsoon in some crude hut, serenely preaching her wisdom to who would hear her. And now she stood before me.

She had changed. Her hair was white; her face gaunt and pinched, as if she had not eaten for moons. She wore rough, blackened clothes of bark, nothing like the elegant sari she had taken with her into the forest.

I had half-risen, dough still clinging to my hands; she saw me. "Isalaya?" she said, and swayed.
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Thanks in advance,

Silver

(edited for typos)

I look at this from two angles. From the first, these are thoughts which can be disjointed and don't need to be in any order.

But from another angle, It's a little choppy.

And one thing struck me as I was reading -never heard of her--

heard from her? or any news of her?
You are saying that she made no contact for many years and now here she has come back. So I understood, but the 'of' threw me.

Did Islalaya half rise, or did the dough? You might not need that comma after half-risen.

And I polished it compared to the rough shape on LH. If you want the new version, say so, and I'll send it to you.

Dude, the problem is that the history is very much part of what the main character feels. There are hints in this passage that tell you what she feels about her sister, but they may be too subtle.

I'm curious, because you're the only one who seems to have a problem with that (so far ).

Is this better for you?

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I was baking flatbreads on the hearthstone when I saw my sister walk out of the forest.

I paused, disbelieving. She had left us, many years ago, to become a hermit. She had abandoned both Nayen and me, and we had never heard from her afterwards. We had thought her safely ensconced within the forest, weathering monsoon after monsoon in some crude hut, serenely preaching her wisdom to who would hear her. We had thought ourselves safe. And now she was walking towards me, as if she still belonged in my house.

"I paused, disbelieving. She had left us, many years ago, to become a hermit. She had turned her back on Nayen and me, and we had never heard of her afterwards. We had thought her safely ensconced within the forest, weathering monsoon after monsoon in some crude hut, serenely preaching her wisdom to who would hear her. And now she stood before me.

She had changed. Her hair was white; her face gaunt and pinched, as if she had not eaten for moons. She wore rough, blackened clothes of bark, nothing like the elegant sari she had taken with her into the forest."

My first problem is with the line "We had thought her safely ensconced within the forest, weathering monsoon after monsoon in some crude hut, serenely preaching her wisdom to who would hear her." If my sister had abandoned her family to become a hermit in the forest, I would not consider her to be either safe or serene, especially if she had to face monsoon after monsoon alone in a crude hut in the wilds. I would be sick with worry every day she was gone.

My second problem is with the apparent surprise of the narrator when her sister emerges from the forest underfed, worn out and aged, and dressed in rough clothing rather than an elegant sari. While her return after many years of absence would be a shock, I would have expected such an appearance of someone who had lived alone in the forest for years.

I'm sorry, but the opening seems too unlikely to draw me further into the story.