Completed Denusk Family Reunion Part II: A fly on the Web

[Delani Denusk]

The bruntette bent slightly and turned her head when it was apparent the child wished to speak privately. She listened to the unusual rasp, wondering what would have caused this poor girl to lose one of the few things individuals had to express themselves to the fullest. Her sympathy extended to the child.

"We are well met, Aramenta Stonewhistling and you honor me in a way undeserved." She fell silent and bent again to listen to the girl, the Colorsplash gently bumping her hand as she listened. Dela turned the hand to rub at the mounts chin and underside of jaw, the warm breeze tugging at the frayed edges of her clothing and whispering through the stallions mane soothingly.

When Ara spoke of her brother, it took Delani a long moment of thought and reflection before she responded. Her hand fell from Coram's jaw and she knelt to be at Ara's level completely, even a little lower. When she realized who the webber meant, the woman couldn't help raising both brows in surprise. She reached forth to take the girls hands in both of hers, the abnormal feel of scarred skin and the slightly rough feel of worn leather containing the girls for the moment as she spoke evenly, a maternal smile on that lean face.

"You must mean Vanator. It would seem he has risen since last I saw him...Ankal Eachann must have passed after the storm." A moment of sorrow inflected into her voice as gemstone eyes lowered briefly. The man had meant much to Delani, her uncle a keystone in her youth and teen years moreso than others in their pavillion had been. "This does indeed bring me joy to know that others of the family still live; I have been disconnected for so long, hearing such news-" The woman tapered off for a moment.

"But you are weary, child. I have a request, but it needn't be fulfilled or attempted until you have rested for a bit and regained your strength. I would not wish you overburdened." Delani had carefully avoided the girls observations of her own sufferings, for the plain fact that it was not a matter of importance now, nor something she felt the girl needed to know. Perhaps in time, if a bond was made between adult and child, but not yet.

"When you are able, return word that I will meet him where the Ki joins the Bluevein. I will not ride out, though, until I know this pavilion has settled and reunited with the web so that they may rejoin Endrykas and resupply with them. Do you know when those you were working with will be able to reconnect Birdflight?"

x

[Aramenta]

The quiet avoidance of Ara's gaze, revealed a peculiar reaction in the child, her brow furrowed, and her eyes had a certain isolation and sadness in them - it was a flash only, something probably imperceptible if she had not been so tired. But real. She quickly pressed the feeling down, and shook her head. She leaned forward again, then to whisper, and the last echoes of the feeling still quavered through her voice. But she spoke with a sincerity that was at once perhaps overly intense, and queerly eager.

"I will, wise-one, as you ask. I... will make sure and tell him. I will be fine, just a day to sleep. That's all. I cannot say precisely, though, how long the team will take. There is months of work to be done to repair things so they will be safe permanently. But I think they will just tie a few guide knots over the trunk, perhaps watching harness or two, then keep people on the web-haunt..." she blushed, laughed - no sound, just a shuddder of breath, queerly intimate across the woman's ear, "I am begin very technical, wise-one, I'm sorry. I think, perhaps a seven-day, to have the pavilion safe enough to bring it home. And then, perhaps, their brethren in the Ruby Clan will help them to find a longer solution."

She stood back, then, and nodded quietly. The signing of her hand echoed on, a habit of the mute, for it was hard to see the movements of her hands while she was so close - subservience, service, desire for help. Desire for approval, so quiet as to be likely subconscious. Insecurity, but that... not so much a sign, as the mannerism, universal to all tongues, even those without the blessing of hands - a certain hesitancy, a certain frightened hope.
x

[Delani Denusk]

The older woman gave Ara a reassuring smile as the girl went off on her spiel about how long it might take and the technicalities involved. "Then so be it. Once the anchors are set, we will meet at the designated location. You needn't ask forgiveness for what you know, by the by. You do the clans goodness with such skills." Dela got back to her feet as well, tucking her hand under the stallions head and rubbing at his cheek again in that distracted affectionate way. He'd been her only companion for some time, it was only right to let him have what he wished.

"I am sure the Ankal will offer you stay among his family, but I would be honored if you would stay with me. You've given me renewed hope, lass, such a thing is the least I could do." Delani reached to squeeze the younger drykas' hand again, brief but fierce, and then release it once more. "But I must ask that you excuse me for now. There's work to be done still; I hope you understand." But those jade eyes did not hide the delight she still felt and would dwell on from then until she could reunite with her brother. She would wonder how better to return the joy Aramenta had given to her. The lass was certainly an invaluable resource. And who knows, perhaps the girls skills could help her with her own pursuits. Time would have to tell!

OOCIf you'd like to do a conclusion post, go ahead! This was a fun starter for me and I look forward to the future encounters between these two!

x

[Aramenta]

Ara smiled, a thin, wan little smile, strange and unreadable, and looked at the older woman, a moment, then nodded, and signed her gratefulness. Then turned, and aided along, stumbling, was taken back to the camp. She slept then, in the Denusk woman's quarters - by the time the woman returned, she was unconscious, wrapped tightly in a bedroll toward the edge of the tent, her things gathered into her saddlebags, beside her. A half-filled spindle of white thread lay carefully on a piece of white muslin beside her, the distaff still threaded onto it. She had laid it out carefully, to be taken up at a moment's notice, should she wake.

But she did not, not for nearly 14 hours, sleeping stiffly, her body tense and uncertain of itself, still in the clothes she had ridden in. She rose, and rolled her bedroll up, and looked around the tent, saw the tattered light of midday, and took up her spindle quietly, spun, spun. The wooden maiden whirled before her eyes, speakign softly of quiet, of numbness, of a world with simple mechanics, with a predictable physics. Her eyes wandered the room, not made silent enough. She closed them focusing her ears on the hum of the spindle. Her nose breathed deep of the room, and her mind began to imagine things, began to imagine that she could smell the woman, smell the scent of her family, of the Denusk, of the man who had leered strangely, unresolved over her dreams, threatening and heavy... no. She would not think of it. She would not. She would spin, spin, spin...

But the spinning was not enough, and the tent was too much. She gathered up her saddlebags and went to find Canterfoot. She was tired. Canter would be rested, rested enough, she hoped. Canter would understand. There was no work to be done here, no duty, noone to serve until she left. And she could not handle that, not now, not like this. Not with the sting of her injuries, not with the ache of her brain,not with the intensity of her visions. She needed to be overwhelmed. She mounted Canterfoot, and whispered soft to her, the people of Birdflight looking queerly at the near-silent child, mounting a horse still dirty from travel, still grey around the eyes. The horse flew out into the plain, her legs focusing on setting light on the ground, Ara's legs focused on setting light around her Strider. There was enough of a strand, now, to ride fast. Ara drew her distaff and her spindle out, and set the whirling maiden up, and concetrated, fingering carefully at the grain of cotton, throwing every ounce of her mind into training the thread, into squezzind her strider with her thighs, into forgetting, forgetting, forgetting. Silence came, with the roar of the windx

[Praetorian]

Your Diligence Has Been Rewarded! Delani Denusk Observation 4 Riding 1 Animal Husbandry (Horse) 1 Cleaning Canvas, Singing Songs Help from the Web Aramenta: The Whispering Webber Aramenta Webbing 5 Animal Husbandry (Horse) 1 An Unexpected Discovery Strained Conversation Upon Frayed Threads Delani: Scarred and Wise Notes : A very good, interesting thread, you two! I loved the utilization of the web. Aramenta, I would highly suggest changing your font color for it makes your posts rather strenuous to read. If you have any comments or concerns, please feel free to message me.