Artem glared up at the dark-brown haired male, her hands on her hips and her black eyes fiercely protective. “No, Roher.” The words were resolute, not allowing for argument, but the male crossed his arms and dared to protest anyway. Many were wary of upsetting Artem for fear of her pranks of retaliation if not her fighting skills - which were formidable as well - but Roher was far beyond being intimated by his former student.
“He needs to learn, Artem.”
“But not now. He’s still too skittish.”
Roher sighed, pinching the bride of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in an exasperated manner before opening his eyes again and raising a brow at the black woman. “And when do you think he will be ready, Artem? When we come across the Cities’ patrols on the plains and they start killing us? He’s fourteen and that is plenty old enough to learn to fight.”
Artem shook her head. “No.” she replied stubbornly and crossed her arms, arching her back slightly in a defiant way as her chin tilted up further so that she could stare her former mentor down.
She wasn’t going to relent on this. SHE was Talis’anarsi’s guardian, not Roher. SHE would decide when it was time for him to learn the skills of the Olonian and right now, she knew he was not ready, no matter what Roher wanted to say about it. Artem knew that the pyro merely wanted what was best for the child, same as he’d wanted what was best for her when he’d taken her under his wing, but this time, the older man had it wrong and Artem was not about to shatter the progress she’d made with Talis’anarsi merely to try and train him to fight.
It wasn’t something the boy was willing to learn right now anyway. Artem had already tried to entice him to do a little sparring with her. The child had nearly bolted at the thought of holding a blade or learning how to fight hand-to-hand. Artem had not suggested the activity again and knew she wouldn’t for a while.
Roher, however, didn’t know of Talis’anarsi’s reaction to weapons and fighting, so in the man’s mind, the boy was old enough to learn, therefore he should be learning.
“Artem, he’s not going to get any less scared by waiting.”
“He’s not going to be any good if he’s cowering and doesn’t trust his trainer either, Roher!”
He was trying her patience and that wasn’t something she had a lot of anyway. Artem could feel the eyes of the tribe on both of them, but she didn’t look away from her friend’s blue eyes, her own black ones hard. She wasn’t going to concede to this argument and Roher knew it. He’d hoped, of course that she might see differently, but in the end he knew that Artem was not going to change her mind.
The man finally sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before he gave his former student a piercing look. “When he is ready, you will train him, right?”
“When he is ready.” Artem agreed in a sort of truce and the pyro shook his head, grumbling under his breath as he left the black woman and she smirked after him, both relieved that the argument was over and yet amused at her friend’s complaining. She shook her own head and moved away from her tent and avoiding the form of Iree - who she could see not three tents away in the middle of camp - Artem moved toward the outskirts of the tribe’s protective circle of tents. Her black eyes scanned the barren lands of the Iius Plains. She knew that further to the north, farther than she could see, there lay a Dead Forest, a great expanse of dark, dead trees, burnt land and petrified wood stumps. The once great woods dwelled on the slopes of the Zanetor Mountains, but the forest no longer lived.
To the east she could see more than just plains, but also a gray shapes rising up against the horizon like tower square stones. An ancient ruin lurked there, a city of destruction and death, something from before the Great Destruction. The tribe would keep well away from it even as they used it for a landmark like they used the river they had yet to leave. The water lay to the west of them, and Artem could see the sparkle of the blue liquid just walking distance away. The City of Ruuk lay just beyond the river and it was for this reason that Artem knew Roher worried. The Olonian were much too close to the dome-city, but for need of water, they had little choice but to remain in the danger zone, close to the river.
Artem tried not to let her mind dwell on this, however, as she looked back out on to the plains, a red-brown, flat and yet rolling landscape that the black woman saw as ‘home’ where many might only see death and ruin. She had grown up here. Nothing else would ever feel quite the same as the Iius Plains, even if it be ‘better’.
The thought brought a small smile to the black woman’s face, but then she was spitting out her hair as wind, an ever-constant on the plains, pulled at her braids and clothes in a strong gust. It also brought with it faint traces of laughter with it‘s mischief, though and the sound caught in Artem’s ears in a strange way. She found herself frowning slightly, curious as she looked to her right, back east, to see a sight she’d not expected, but rather liked instantly.
Three children ran together in a game of chase not far from the camp, their feet kicking up dust and dirt, their hair blowing in the wind, wild with their movement as they dashed about. Their quick and nimble movements made them appear as dancing deer as they laughed and reached for one another.
The sight was one that made a person want to smile, their own feet itching to run, but Artem had other reasons for feeling a sense of both happiness, but also curious amazement. Her reasons for surprise was not the activity the children were partaking in but WHO the children playing were.
Eka, the twelve year old daughter of Zoso and his wife Sena, running about like a wild horse, her black hair tossing about like a mane was not a startling sight. The black girl was as wild as her father was composed and it was not a rare thing to see her darting about the camp, getting into trouble and getting out of that same trouble with charm that would make a snake-trainer envious. No, it was not Eka’s presence that interested Artem - though, the excitable girl hanging out with the other two child was odd - what interested her were the other two children.
The red-head who laughed again, twirling away from Eka was the thirteen year old sister of Iree. The two looked very much alike, both with a fiery red mane around their faces like a halo of fire and the brightest blue eyes, but they could not have been more different in personality. While Iree was loud, abrasive - if still wise - and quick with her temper, Aenen was quiet, gentle and rarely spoke in anything more than a soft voice and only when spoken to. The two were like the sun and moon, and it was rare to see Aenen interact with anyone, who was not her sister, and especially the children around her.
To see her playing like the child she should be was startling and seeing both Eka and Aenen playing with Talis’anarsi just about boggled Artem’s mind.
The boy had pretty much refused to interact with the children around him. There were three Olonian boys traveling with them, all a little older than Talis’anarsi by a year or two, but the child had shown no interest in them despite the fact that one boy, Kajar, seemed very determined to befriend the abused fourteen year old. Talis’anarsi didn’t seem to be able to see that and he‘d continued to avoid the children. He hadn’t shown interest in Eka and Aenen, the only two girls in the tribe, either until today, so it wasn’t a preference for gender that caused the boy’s behavior.
He just wasn’t comfortable around his peers and didn’t try to get to know them.
Until today, the boy had stayed close to Artem’s side like a wary animal, a kicked dog that only trusted one person and viewed all others as a danger. It had been several days, but the boy had not warmed up to the tribe in nearly the same way he’d done to the black woman. Ever since bathing in the river for the first time Talis’anarsi had been open about his thoughts, questions and answers with Artem, but other adults were not to be spoken to.
When they talked to him he would look up through his black hair streaked with white - something Artem had not expected to see when they’d washed his hair of the dirt and blood and other questionable things - and he would answer direct questions in a subdued, quiet way, but he never initiated conversation.
He was the same way with the children in the tribe…until today. Today he was with both Aenen AND Eka and he was LAUGHING, something she’d never heard from the child.
Artem didn’t understand it and she hated not understanding things. So it was that she found herself walking toward the three and then finally stopping just beyond their invisible circle of play, waiting to be acknowledged as she had not the heart to interrupt the rare display of pure childness from those who should have always been able to just be young.
The black woman remained quiet and still, but it wasn’t long before Eka saw her and shouted a greeting, making her two companions still like startled deer and look over with wide eyes. When they saw who the adult was, Aenen was the first to regain her calm and she offered Artem a small smile but said nothing. Talis’anarsi, however, still remained still, the color having drained from his face and his dark green eyes wide, frozen. He didn’t seem to really see Artem and the black woman felt a spike of worry as she took a step forward.
Aenen beat her to her goal though, as the girl laid a hand on the boy’s arm and spoke in a quiet way. Artem didn’t hear what was said as the wind snatched the words from her, but Talis’anarsi seemed to come out of his fearful trance and he blinked, looking down at Aenen before smiling slightly. Nothing more was said between the two children as they looked up at Artem again and then came running toward her, Eka joining them.
The black woman very soon found herself looking down into three upturned, questioning faces and Artem discovered she wasn’t quite sure what to say….so like usual, she just popped off with the first thought to come into her mind. It was something Roher had never really been able to unteach in her.
“Why are you all playing together?”
Artem realized her voice must have been more demanding than she’d intended as Talis’anarsi immediately flinched back, biting his lip as he looked down, voice quiet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that I wasn’t allowed to-”
“No, no, no! That’s not what I mean, little weed. Uhhgh…” Artem rubbed her forehead with the hand not perched on her hip. Damn, taking care of a child, a damaged child, was not easy. Suddenly she felt more appreciative of Roher’s patience with her when he’d been her guardian.
“Of course you can play with us, silly! There’s no rule against it. That would be stupid!” Eka’s voice rose confidently and Artem opened her black eyes once more to give the younger black girl a look. The twelve year old only giggled and grinned cheekily. “What? It would be.” she defended and Artem shook her head again, but couldn’t help letting her lips twitch in a smile. Eka reminded her too much of herself at that age.
“You’re right, Eka, it would be.” Artem smiled at the girl’s triumphant look and turned her black eyes to her own charge who was watching her carefully with those shadowed, dark green eyes, merely waiting. “Talis’anarsi, you are allowed to play with anyone within the tribe that you’d like to. I am not upset over you playing with Eka and Aenen, I am merely curious as to why you have all decided to play together today.” Or at all. They were an unlikely group. Maybe Aenen and Talis’anarsi would have spoken eventually, but Eka? And playing chase? Artem would not have seen that coming, hadn’t seen it coming.
The boy nodded, showing he understood, but he didn’t answer Artem’s question, biting his lip again as he looked at Aenen who remained quiet and then Eka who was also strangely silent now. The fourteen year old seemed to understand that he was the one that would have to speak and Artem crouched slowly, getting nearly eye-level with the three children, but her attention on the boy.
“Why do you hesitate, little weed?” she asked gently and the child opened his mouth before shutting it again, seeming to think and then finally speaking. “I am not sure you will believe what I will tell you.”
Artem’s eyebrows rose for a moment before she stuck her tongue in the side of her cheek, thinking for a long moment before she nodded slowly and swallowed before speaking. “You know what, that is reasonable concern, but you won’t know my reaction for sure until you tell me, Talis’anarsi.” She would not promise him she’d believe him, that was not the way the world worked and the child knew it, but she could promise that she would at least listen.
The boy knew that, too, and he watched her for a minute through his black-white hair before finally speaking. Artem noted with interest that Eka’s face had grown stubborn, determined as she slipped her hand into the boy’s and Aenen’s eyes showed a steely quality that the black woman had never witnessed as she took Talis’anarsi’s other hand. They were putting up a united front and while some might have found it amusing or cute, Artem could sense it was something much, much more.
The emotions of the three were nearly identical; scared, determined, loyal, slightly awed and amazed by something she was not yet aware of. They were all the same, though. All three children knew something and whether she believed them or not, they were going to hold fast to each other and their information.
It was enough to make the black woman listen very, very carefully when Talis’anarsi spoke.
“Aenen has drawn something. We have to go to Ruuk.”
“What?” Of all the things the child could have said, Artem had expected NOTHING like that and she had to consciously tell herself to control the volume of her voice and the intensity of her reactions as she took a deep breath and looked back up into dark green eyes from her crouched position.
“All right, kid, I’m listening but you’d better do a heck of a job explaining how you came to this conclusion.”
Talis’anarsi blinked, clearly surprised and Artem raised a brow, pointing to the ground as she lowered herself there as well. “Sit. All of you.”
The three children looked at each other and then promptly did as they were told and Artem sighed silently as she braced herself to listen to something she was already struggling to understand.
-------------------------------
She was trying to be patient, Talis’anarsi could see it clearly and while it made him appreciative to Artem once more, it also made him nervous. What if he explained and she still didn’t believe him?
No. The boy pushed the thought away firmly. No, she couldn’t not believe him. She was involved in this, too. She dreamed of a gold-haired warrior she didn’t know and Artem had found him with his uncle when he‘d dreamed of her, connected with him despite her inexperience with children. No, she would have to understand what he told her, to feel what he felt. She was one of Them, one of the Dreamers. She had to understand.
“Well?”
The black woman was raising her brow in that familiar way to Talis’anarsi and he found it didn’t intimidate him like it had only a few days ago and a faint smile tugged at his lips before he started to talk, pushing the doubt away and keeping his voice steady.
“I have not dreamt since meeting you, but last night I dreamt of a man with white eyes. I could not see his face clearly, but his voice was easy to hear and he told me to talk to Aenen today. He left before I could ask why, so when I woke I looked for Aenen.”
“Do you always do what these dreams tell you to, little weed?” Talis’anarsi could hear the concern, the worry in Artem’s voice and it sent a glow of warmth through his chest that he was unfamiliar with, but liked. It felt like the same kind of warmth that he’d always felt with his parents and his brother and sister. It felt like love and he liked it very much indeed, though he knew if the emotion had come from any other person he would have recoiled, not trusting it. When it came from Artem, though, he couldn’t help but accept it, just like he accepted without question that he could trust her.
The boy smiled a little, his dark green eyes looking directly into Artem’s black ones. “Yes, and they’ve never led me to the wrong thing.”
The black woman seemed to struggle with that, obviously wanting to protest in some way, perhaps give a warning, but in the end she remained quiet and nodded, raising a brow again in a silent encouragement for Talis’anarsi to continue his story.
The child did so after glancing at Aenen and receiving a nod from the girl before she started to dig through the animal-skin bag slung over her shoulder, settled on the ground by her hip.
“I went looking for her, but found her looking for me and she showed me the picture she’d drawn. We got kinda scared after that when we figured out what it meant. Eka-”
“I found them then and made them come play.” Eka grinned at her playmates. “I told you running would help!” The twelve year old girl seemed either oblivious to the other two childrens’ reasons for being scared or she did know and didn’t think it a real reason for concern.
Talis’anarsi knew it was the latter. Eka had seemed to understand everything he and Aenen had told her and more if the boy were to guess, but her personality was such that she would pretend casual before she would admit she was paying attention. It was strange to Talis’anarsi, but he’d spent enough time observing people in the shadows to know their behavior and non-verbal cues. Eka was much smarter and more observant than she let anyone know.
The boy nodded his agreement with the younger girl, unsure what else to do. He’d never been allowed to play with his peers when he’d been with his uncle which meant he’d not had a great deal of contact with another child for seven years. Understanding how to speak with them and interact appropriately was difficult. So he merely smiled at Eka before looking back at Artem who was still waiting with careful patience for him to speak once more.
“Do you still have the picture?”
The black woman’s voice was calm, soothing and Talis’anarsi found himself grateful to the woman once more for saving him. He’d never thought to have an adult actually listen to him or care for him after his parents had passed away. It was wonderful to know he had one he could count on now.
“We do.” Aenen said softly as she drew a precious notepad out of her bag. Among the many treasures that had been passed down through the years, paper was something that was rare. Aenen’s power required that she have it with her at all times, though, so despite her young age, she had been given one of the two notebooks that the tribe had and one of the amazing writing pens that held something to erase the marks with on the end of it. With these tools, the young red-head could draw and then erase when the picture was no longer needed, using the paper over and over again with care.
The girl now hesitated in handing over her necessary paper, but a reassuring smile from Artem saw her giving it to the black woman and then sitting back, nervously watching the notepad until it could be safely in her hands again.
Talis’anarsi, for his part, watched Artem’s black eyes closely, watched as they narrowed in puzzlement and then widened in the beginning of understanding before her gaze rose to meet his, questioning. “Is this the man you saw?”
“It is.” the boy answered with soft confidence and Artem looked away from him again, back toward the drawing. The child found himself holding his breath. Surely she would feel what he felt, understand…
---------------------
The picture was eerie in its detail. Artem had known Aenen was gifted with drawing, but she had never seen one of the girl’s pictures. Seeing as how Aenen’s drawings were depictions of future events that were supposed to happen - but didn’t always come to pass - and she didn’t draw for pleasure, Artem was glad she hadn’t seen any up until this point.
Looking at the drawing now, she could not help but feel like she was being hurled toward something she did not fully understand, something that she could not escape. Artem hated feeling trapped be it by authority, physical means or obligation ones. It was a miracle she was taking care of Talis’anarsi considering her track record of avoiding responsibility!
This picture though, it wasn’t going to allow her an escape. That was her face right there drawn on the picture, looking down at a man with long black hair and white eyes that seemed glazed in a strange way. The man was on the red-brown dirt of the plains and he seemed to be in pain if the way his jaw clenched was any indication. The blood that was on her own hands was another clue and the pale face of a white-haired woman staring with wide violet eyes at the man and looking quite lost clearly indicated that she had no idea what to do. The white-haired female stood at the side of a strange, tan tiger-striped creature that almost looked like a dragorse.
Opposite Artem’s own crouched figure on the paper was Talis’anarsi, standing and looking toward the horizon at something that was not on the paper. He looked scared, but determined all at once, much like she’d seen him that night she’d rescued him.
It was clear that their tribe was nowhere around, but in the distance, there was a domed-city and a river running by it.
Ruuk.
Artem stared at the whole picture for a very long minute before she finally handed the pad of paper back to Aenen and the girl took it gratefully. The black woman turned her attention to Talis’anarsi, but found she could not answer the pleading question in his eyes just yet as her gaze flickered to Eka.
“And what is your involvement in all this, Eka?”
The young black girl shrugged, picking at her toenails as she spoke nonchalantly. “I think Tal and you should go find him and help him. I saw the man last year. I recognize him.”
Artem’s eyes grew sharp and her voice the same way, and though she saw Talis’anarsi flinch back instinctively, she didn’t spare him a reassuring word, her attention on Eka. “What? Where? Why did you not tell an adult you had seen a stranger, Eka?”
The twelve year old’s brown eyes flickered up to meet black before she looked away again and shrugged once more, resuming picking the dirt from her toenails. “I saw him near the yellow mountains when the tribe wintered there last year. I told my mother about it, but when father went to check he didn’t find the man. They thought I was playing a prank then and no one would listen to me, so I dropped it.”
“Did he say anything to you?” The question, quiet, came from Talis’anarsi and Eka gave the boy a look, tilting her head and letting her wild hair fall about her shoulders as she blinked. “He did. He told me not to run on the loose shale.”
Artem found she could not hold the snort in as she shook her head incredulously. Eka grinned then and the black woman gave the younger girl a look. “Perhaps you should have listened. It would have saved you that broken arm.”
Eka merely looked down in the face of that logic, grumbling under her breath before she stood abruptly, obviously done with the conversation, no matter how fascinating it might have started out. “I gotta go. Mama said I had to be back before it got dark.” The child was already darting away, waving as she ran. “Bye, Aenen! See ya tomorrow, Tal! Tell me what you’re gonna do, okay?” She didn’t wait for a response before disappearing into the circle of tents.
Aenen shook her head at the younger girl. Even at thirteen, the younger sister of Iree seemed more like a grown up then a child and she stood quietly, gracefully. “I should go, too. Please tell me what is decided tomorrow, Talis’anarsi. Please tell me if I can help at all.”
The red-head knew when it was time to leave, to let those who had to make decisions make them and she smiled politely at Artem before departing. Talis’anarsi looked after her before focusing on his guardian and Artem sighed, suddenly tired.
“You truly believe that we need to go to Ruuk to help this man?”
The boy nodded, voice a whisper. “I do.”
Artem made a half grunt, half growl noise in her throat, looking back toward the river for a moment of silence before she finally sighed and answered back. “Then I believe you. I believe that you think we need to do this, but I will need to think about it, little weed. I can’t just make a decision.”
Talis’anarsi dipped his head, looking down and he nodded in a small way. “I understand.”
Artem could have cursed at the withdrawn quality in his voice, but she refrained, merely standing and quietly leading the boy back into the circle of tents when he followed her. She wished she could reassure him right now, but she didn’t know what her decision would be in this. She wasn’t even sure she understood what THIS was! Her life had been turned upside down with Talis’anarsi and now she was beginning to suspect that it was never going to go back to normal. The boy…he was special and he seemed to think SHE was special, too, something Artem could not understand. Sure, she was having strange dreams, just like Talis’anarsi had been having of HER, but the child seemed to understand what was happening in a way Artem did NOT. He wasn’t afraid of the dreams, of the feeling of being watched, of something bigger going on around them, something that had drawn them together and bonded them so quickly.
Artem WAS bothered and concerned by these things and she didn’t UNDERSTAND them. She hated not understanding things, especially important things. She liked answers, but it didn’t seem like anyone wanted to give her any. At not any that she wanted to hear.
The black woman sighed out as she and the child neared their shared tent.
Perhaps reasonable answers would be more forthcoming in the morning after a decent night‘s sleep. She could only hope.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mrara’s hands grasped the rock she balanced on precariously, the wind whipping her red-brown hair into a frenzy about her face as she looked back the way she’d come. Her pack lay beyond that mountain pass, all she knew lay behind her, tempting her back, but she knew she couldn’t go.
It had only been a few days since she’d left the caves, the fire-ones, but every step away from her home had bound her closer to Cahrn, closer to his side and closer to his pack. She had not known this would happen…not entirely, anyway. She’d suspected it the day she’d come to see the strangers’ pack and everything had been different.
She’d known something was wrong and different that day. The strangers’ animal-hide carriers had been packed. Their stuff had not been settled about the cave and their weapons had been polished and on their bodies. Their sleeping furs were gone and the fire had not been burning, there had been no scent of food.
Something had been wrong, but she hadn’t understood what it was until the one who could partially speak her language had made the sound for the ‘long journey’. Mrara had understood then that the strangers were leaving and her gaze had gone to Cahrn. He had been looking back at her and the message in his gray eyes was clear to understand despite the language barrier between them.
He wanted her with him….and she had found that she wanted to come. She’d known this day would come. Strangers didn’t stay in one place for long periods of times, especially ones who did not build great stones about themselves, but traveled lightly. She’d known this pack of strangers would leave…and she’d known she’d have to decide whether she went with them. Mrara had not know, however, that the day was so close, nor that she would feel so steadfast about her decision when it came time to make it.
The thought of not seeing Cahrn again, though, it was an ache in her chest that she didn’t understand but trusted. He was hers and she couldn’t let him go. Why this was, she could not understand, could not explain but to say it was the mating call she’d always heard was so powerful. And if it was a mating call, then she was to go where her mate went…but not before telling the fire-ones goodbye.
She hadn’t had a way to tell the strangers this, however, and had only watched as they started down the mountain path before she disappeared back into the cave. She’d caught up to them that night, drawn to the light of their fire and the strangers had seemed startled at her presence, but Mrara had paid them no mind, coming to Cahrn’s side, but not close enough that he could touch her. She never got close enough to be touched.
Contact was not needed, though, as the look in the male’s gray eyes and the odd smile expression on his face had been enough of a reward for her. She had not left that night or any of the nights since.
Now, though, she could not help but miss the fire-ones already. She was further from home than she’d ever been and entirely enmeshed with the strangers now. She wore some of their clothes, her own ripped and entirely unfit for the weather when she wasn’t hiding in a lava cave. She ate their food now, too and was starting to pick up new words, that while difficult to say, were becoming more cemented in her mind, a constant.
“Mrara?”
She turned her head immediately at the sound of a voice that drew her out of her thoughts - at the sound her name, something she was fast getting used to hearing - to look into gray eyes and she found herself relaxing a bit as she studied Cahrn, at seeing the question on his face. She glanced back up the path for the last time and then sprang from her rock back onto the main path, rising from her crouch near Cahrn.
He gave her that strange expression again, a slight showing of teeth that made his eyes light up in a happy way before turning away and back to the other strangers who were watching the two of them, waiting. Mrara chirped happily to herself as she followed, very pleased with Cahrn.
Despite their lack of a common language, he simply seemed to KNOW what she needed without a great deal of trial and error. He didn’t try to touch her and hadn’t tried as long as she’d been around him, not even at their first meeting had he tried to restrain her or get closer than she was comfortable with. The other members of the strangers’ pack had all learned in differing ways the boundaries Mrara set up, but Cahrn….he already seemed to know that they existed without ever having to have the rules taught to him.
It was odd. It was unexplainable. It was enduring her to him more and more every day.
He would be a good mate, of this Mrara was sure and despite her longing for home and for the familiar presence of her pack, of the fire-ones, she knew she was where she was supposed to be.
With Cahrn.
It was the only reassurance she had as she joined the strangers’ pack again. She knew she was like them in looks, in intelligence, but she could not call them her people. They were unfamiliar in their speech and in their body-language. They did things she could not even begin to understand and used facial expression she couldn’t comprehend unless she saw the same thing over and over again in the same situation that had brought on the expression in the first place.
The showing of teeth in a happy way threw her off every single time. The baring of teeth was a threatening gesture yet these creatures made the expression to each other all the time without negative consequences. She didn’t understand it and didn’t dare show her own teeth to them unless it be in a growl or hiss. That’s what fangs were supposed to be used for!
It wasn’t just their expressions that confused her, too, but also their language. There were so many words, so many sounds and emotions to go with them. She’d never understand it!
Mrara growled softly, frustrated by even the thought and she ignored the look the red-haired stranger close to her gave her. She wanted to understand them! She wanted to understand Cahrn. She could not be a good mate, a good she-alpha if she did not understand him!
Mrara growled again, louder this time as anger swept through her and the female stranger nearest her with light brown hair grew startled, placing her hand on her weapon. Mrara reacted instinctively to the threat, baring her teeth and taking a defensive stance, growl growing harsher with warning as all her mind could see in that moment was an enemy.
It was Cahrn who snapped her back to reality, but it wasn’t his voice alone that did it. No, it was what he said, his word a snapped growl, translated to ‘no’ or ‘stop’ in the fire-one’s tongue.
Her amber eyes darted to meet his gray ones and Mrara couldn’t help but crouch further in a submissive way at the disapproval in his gaze. It was the last thing she wanted to see and Mrara averted her eyes from his, taking care not to challenge him before she looked toward the light brown haired female she’d almost attacked.
The female stranger was smiling in that strange way, but the expression was nervous if her hands, rubbing against her pants, were any indication of her mood. She glanced away from Mrara and toward Cahrn, saying something the feral young woman could not understand.
She felt the frustration rise in her again and growled softly once more, looking at the ground and then rising back to her feet. She skirted around the strangers and started down the path in the front of the pack now. Perhaps it would be better if she just stayed away from them for now, especially if Cahrn was upset with her.
--------------------------
Caln looked after Mrara with a sigh, running his hand back through his dark blond hair. Perhaps Befni was right. Maybe it WAS time to start making Mrara realize that the people around her were capable predators themselves and that she should exercise more caution with them.
The Enasien had been trying to be gentle, patient, giving the girl no reason to think they’d harm her, but maybe they’d gone a bit too far and made themselves seem weak and easy to push around. That would not gain any respect from Mrara as Caab had explained to him calmly.
Caln knew his brother was right, too. It was just…he knew Mrara understood so little of their language and the reason for why they did what they did. What if it was not authority she needed but more vigorous teaching? Caab was doing the best he could, but the daredevil blond had never been the teaching type. He got too impatient too quickly and while he could explain the things he knew, if the audience didn’t have a clue what he was saying -literally - it wasted the Animal-Speaker’s talent in that area.
Mrara was willing to learn, but she needed a teacher who could speak her language AND the human one, who could draw connections for the feral girl, who could educate her like she needed to be.
Caln knew he wasn’t going to be able to do it. He could admit that about himself, but it frustrated him that there was no on within his group who COULD help in this area. It was frustrating Mrara as much as it was him, too. He could sense it, see it in the way she acted out.
And it was the acting out that had made Befni suggest they start lashing back, just a little, to show the girl that she couldn’t take her irritation out on them. The Enasien were the most skilled fighters in Jagason for a reason and none of his people liked being pushed around.
Caln knew he’d have to give them permission to fight back sooner or later. It wasn’t fair to tell them they couldn’t at least defend themselves if Mrara struck out at them without provocation. He just didn’t like the idea in the least.
“She wants to understand us.”
Caln glanced at Caab as his younger brother came to walk at his side. The younger man - by all of two years - was slightly shorter than his older brother and thinner. His blond hair was lighter than Caln’s and longer. Caab, despite being blunt and mischievous oftentimes, was likely the first person Caln would listen to when the older male was agitated and everyone knew it.
Just like he was listening now.
“I know.”
“You know she came for you. It wasn’t for curiosity or because she was fond of any of us. It wasn’t because she needs us. She came for you, Caln.”
Gray eyes flickered to meet black ones and a dark blond brow rose sharply before Caln looked away from his younger brother again. “Do you have a point or are you just going to ramble until I tell you to shut up?”
Caab grinned, the look more a smirk than anything as he clapped his brother on the shoulder. “My point, oh impatient one, is that perhaps you should try communicating with her alone. She calms when she spends time with you and is better able to tolerate the rest of us.”
Caln looked at his brother fully this time, blinking and Caab shrugged. “You could do it now. We’re almost upon the place where we left the Dragorse. No one would mind if you went ahead, well besides Weln, but she’ll get over it. Just an idea.” he pointed out before falling back and leaving his older sibling to weigh his words, and Caln did. The War-Leader frowned as he looked ahead, the idea circling in his mind until it finally started to make sense to him and he was able to see what Caab had so easily.
His brother was right. The glances Mrara gave him, the way she stayed close to him, the look she’d given him when she knew he was leaving, when she’d come upon them that night… Loyalty. He recognized it now and had to wonder why he hadn’t seen it before. Perhaps it was because she was the last person he’d expected to see such emotion from - they hardly knew each other!
But it was there all the same and the more he thought about it, the more Caln remembered about their interactions. And suddenly the things that had not made sense before started to take on a new light - if not completely coming out of the darkness of mystery they were shrouded in.
“Asin, take the lead.”
The four-armed, white-haired man raised a brow, but didn’t comment as he watched his War-Leader surge ahead of the group and down the path. The tribe watched him go, smiling or frowning to themselves, but Weln was the only one who looked ready to follow at her brother’s pace. Caab was quick to set a hand on her shoulder and shake his head. The fifteen year old glared at him, but stayed where she was with the group.
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Caln hadn’t expected that Mrara would have gotten so far in the small amount of time she’d been ahead of the group, but by the time he caught up with her, she was already approaching the dragorse the Enasien had left in an small valley along the path. They’d left the dragorse there for the treachery of the path ahead, knowing the animals would stay until their return.
He couldn’t see the wild girl’s face, but he could see in her cautious approach that she wasn’t sure what to make of the creatures even as she was curious about them and unafraid.
The War-Leader found himself smiling as he drew closer on quiet feet and stopped at one of the large standing rocks along the narrow path, leaning against it and crossing his arms as he merely waited for what would transpire.
He wasn’t concerned for Mrara. Sure, the dragorse were dangerous creatures with nasty tempers and even meaner bites, but the wild girl had dealt with dragons, a species related to the dragorse and much more lethal than even the half-dragon, half horse could be.
Caln watched Mrara approach them slowly, her head tilting as she took in the odd nature of the creatures. They were horse-like in their middle-body with long legs, hooves and a long equine neck, but that’s where the similarity’s with the horse species ended. The dragorse’ tail was a dragon’s with a large area of tufted fur on the underside of the lizard-like appendage. The creatures’ hide was that of horses’ except where it was scaled on the legs like socks, on the face, the chest, on the underbelly for most dragorse and on spattered patches throughout the rest of the animals’ body. The ears were horse-like, but long and on the male dragorse were horns of various lengths like that of a domestic goat, sweeping back over their foreheads toward their necks. Along the fronts of their faces, sweeping down their necks and along the tops of their backs were a plate of scales like an armadillo.
The dragorse’ teeth were sharp like a predator and their tongues forked and long like a snake when they flickered out to taste the air, investigating Mrara as she drew closer.
One of the mounts hissed at her, growling in a fierce way at the stranger it didn’t know, and Mrara answered back instantly with a hiss of her own, baring her teeth and snarling back more harshly than the dragorse had.
The animal appeared surprised by the answer and the rest of the small herd of ten dragorse mounts brought their attention to the strange human who’d spoken in a language that they almost recognized. It was almost like a different dialect to them and Caln watched in fascination as the creatures he’d grown up with behaved in a manner he’d never seen toward a human. It made sense, though, didn’t it? Mrara was not entirely human in a way.
The War-Leader smiled at the thought and stayed where he was as Mrara finally stood from her crouched position, appearing much more confident as she stepped toward the dragorse Caln recognized to be the leader of the herd.
It was a pack-dragorse stallion and had been purposely assigned this position by the Enasien despite the creature’s rank inside the herd. Keeping the alpha dragorse at the back of the herd and tied down to two pack-dragorse mares kept the animal in line when they were riding as the alpha was forced to obey the humans. It also stored pent-up anger in the alpha toward the other dragorse of the herd so that when it came to camp, the lead dragorse kept a tight control of the herd when the humans let the creatures be. It was a good system.
Now, though, the dragorse stallion was not tied down and was fully in charge…and he was interested in this strange human that came toward him so boldly. The alpha was a dragorse with a white hide and gray scales. The armor plates along his face, neck and back were a light blue and his horns, hooves and the fur on the underside of his tail were a light brown. He was a surprisingly small male compared to the others around him, but what he lacked in size, he made up in ferocity and cunning.
That intelligence was working now as he watched Mrara and his tongue flicked out toward her before he hissed warningly, stomping a hoof and tossing his head a little, ears back.
Mrara kept walking forward like the dragorse hadn’t done a thing and she hissed back fiercely, a low growl in her throat. The dragorse didn’t seem impressed by her threat, though, and surged forward at the challenge, head extended and jaw open. The dragorse stallion never knew what hit him as Mrara’s hand came out and a resounding cracking sound was heard, echoing against the mountain walls.
The alpha gave a squealing sound of pain, staggering to the side and shaking his head, rearing slightly before settling nervously and looking toward Mrara with a new speculation in his eyes. There was blood running down the gray scales on his face, cut open despite their durability and he seemed surprised by the fact as his tongue came out to lick at the red liquid. The wild girl for her part merely bared her teeth again, a harsh snarl in throat. Her amber eyes blazed and the dragorse stallion danced in place for a moment before he approached slowly, head lowered in a submissive way.
Caln, perfectly still and tense against the rocks he still leaned upon, saw the rock in Mrara’s hand, her fingers clenched tight around it, fall away to the mountain path. She’d used it to add force to her strike against the dragorse. He felt a smile flit across his face. Smart girl.
The War-Leader pushed silently away from the rocks then as the wild girl reached up to touch the alpha’s face, chirping to him in a soothing manner that made the dragorse’ ears come forward in curiosity. Caln chuckled.
“I’d say you’ve tamed him.”
Where the dragorse stallion’s actions had not startled Mrara or fazed her, Caln’s voice did and the wild girl nearly jumped, turning her body around fully to face him, eyes wide, but nothing threatening in her demeanor. It was a strange thing to see considering as how all the other Enasien garnered a negative response from Mrara when they startled her.
Did she know his voice that well?
The War-Leader smiled softly, reassuringly. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I am sorry.” he nearly whispered, knowing the young woman couldn’t understand him anyway, but unable to help talking to her. He watched as her amber eyes lost their surprised look and then chuckled again as Mrara almost pitched forward with the dragorse stallions’ movement. The white-gray creature was growling at Caln and had made to lunge forward threatening, almost knocking the wild girl over.
She growled at the creature now, jabbing her elbow into his scaled chest to make him back up. The dragorse did so, but didn’t seem happy about it and Caln tilted his head, speaking mostly to himself, but wishing Mrara could understand every word.
The brown-red haired girl had every right to feel frustrated. This was annoyingly difficult, not being able to understand each other.
“I think you’ve found your mount, Mrara. He seems quite attached to you already.”
She didn’t understand his words, he knew that, but she’d heard her name and it seemed enough for her as she turned back to face him again after driving the dragorse back to the herd and her eyes seemed to smile in a way her mouth refused to.
It was enough for Caln and he smiled back before beckoning her to follow him.
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Mrara felt her body become lighter the minute she heard his voice say her name. She didn’t know why, but the burden that weighed on her, an unnamed darkness, seemed to lift as she turned to face Cahrn again.
He was smiling at her and she felt her heart jump and her spirit shine in her face. She loved it when he smiled and when she’d left the group, she’d been afraid she might not see the strange expression again. She had upset him and the others, and while she’d not meant to, not really, it hadn’t mattered. She couldn’t explain that to them.
Now, though, with Cahrn here, just the two of them, it didn’t seem like anything needed to be explained. It never really did when it was just them. Mrara liked it and she liked the sounds of mirth that had come from Cahrn, too. He was amused by the half fire-one and the way the animal acted….and she thought he was proud and amused by her own reactions to the creature.
Yes, that pleased Mrara.
Anything that made Cahrn happy with her made her pleased.
So she followed him because she knew that would make him happy, too, but she couldn’t help looking back at the half fire-ones. She liked the white-gray one. He was the alpha, but he’d recognized that she above him. It was a good thing to see in an intelligent creature. The half fire-ones were not as smart as the fire-ones, that was certain, but they were powerful anyway and she was proud that she’d subdued the leader so quickly. The herd would listen to her now if she insisted it be so.
Her amber eyes searched the herd for a moment, wondering which half fire-one was Cahrn’s mount. Could it be the alpha she’d subdued? No other mount seemed appropriate for him in her mind, but she recalled the way the white-gray creature had hissed at Cahrn and threatened him. That was not a greeting of any kind and none of the other animals had come to greet Cahrn either.
Were none of them his mount?
She felt puzzled by this and wished she could ask for the answer as she followed the gray-eyed stranger. She couldn’t, though, and she soon saw she wouldn’t have to as Cahrn led her into another small valley beside the dragorse’ own. They were only a small way in when Mrara heard a neighing sound, ringing shrilling in greeting along the canyon walls.
Cahrn smiled widely and brought his hands to his mouth, emitting a piercing sound like a falcon’s cry. Mrara nearly covered her ears, but the sound was over almost as soon as it began and then her attention was captured by the black prey-animal that came galloping down the rock-path, its hooves making a loud clamor as it drew near.
Mrara glanced back up at Cahrn as the black animal skidded to a stop not far away, striking the ground with its hoof over and over in a graceful way. She saw that the dark blond was smiling still and he looked down at her with a fond expression before walking forward and taking the animal’s head in his hands, a clearly possessive gesture.
And Mrara understood. For some reason, Cahrn preferred this animal as his mount and not the half fire-ones. She wasn’t sure why, but she accepted it immediately and came forward slowly to look the creature over. It was black-furred all over with a black mane and deep brown eyes that showed a surprising intelligence for a prey-animal. Mrara found herself judging the animal harshly as she slowly circled it like a predator would, ignoring the way Cahrn watched her with an almost questioning expression on his face. She came back around to face the prey-animal and snarled at it harshly, teeth bared and body crouched, but the black creature did not move except to dance back slightly. It’s ears flickered forward and then back and then forward again as it watched her and Mrara found herself thoroughly satisfied with the result of her test.
She straightened and warbled happily, stepping forward to pet the animal as she chirped to it gently, looking over at Cahrn who was still watching her, searching her face like he might understand her actions that way.
Mrara only chirped at him in a content way. She was well-pleased with his mount. It was worthy of him even if it was a prey-animal. It was a brave prey-animal.
Still, she did like the half fire-ones better.
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Caln finally shook his head as he watched Mrara, unable to understand what was going through her mind and knowing it was too complicated to explain or ask about. In the long run, it really didn’t matter right now anyway.
He smiled to himself as he flicked his dark blond hair away from his face with a twitch of his head and stepped forward to croon softly to his mount. He made no further movement toward Mrara, but they were the closest they’d been to each other since that first day in the lava caves when he’d been half delirious with pain. And she hadn’t moved away. It was encouraging and made his chest tighten in an odd way.
Caln tried not to focus on it too much, bringing his attention back to his stallion, Rayenthos, as the horse bumped his nose against his hand, seeking either a treat or a pet, though, a treat would have been preferable. The War-Leader scratched the black fur, whispering nonsense to the horse as he started to lead his mount out of the canyon valley. Mrara followed on the opposite side of the stallion, listening to his voice just as much as Rayenthos did.
The dark blond found it endearing and he gave the wild girl a smile as they came back out in the open and moved toward the dragorse herd. He stopped, and giving the command to stay with a hand held out, he strode quickly to a narrow fissure in the wall, pulling out saddles. After a moment he found the one he wanted and gave a whistle. The alpha dragorse looked up, ears back in displeasure, but he obeyed the human, coming forward to be tacked.
Cahrn completed the task with skill and efficiency, taking the dragorse stallion’s reigns and leading him over to where Mrara still stood, waiting with curiosity and some suspicion as she watched his actions. When Caln stopped before her, though, and held out the reigns, her eyes widened in surprise and she looked from him to the dragorse and then back to him.
The War-Leader smiled a little in amusement and pointed at the white-gray creature and then at Mrara, holding the reigns out further to her. The wild girl’s amber eyes lit up then like the twin suns and she gave a high chirp of excitement before stepping forward and carefully taking the reigns from Caln.
Their hands brushed briefly and Caln wondered if he was the only one who felt the surge of heat, of energy that traveled through his body. When his gray eyes opened after he’d closed them without thought he saw that Mrara’s amber ones were darker than he remembered and she was looking at him as if she had a burning question to ask or maybe something to impart, and wished he could know it simply through eye-contact alone.
Letting go of the reigns completely, slowly, and never taking his eyes off the wild young woman’s own, Caln wished the same thing just as strongly as she did.
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Annnnd that is all I have written for now. Updates will probably be a long time in coming, to be honest. Sorry!
