Aramenta, accustomed by necessity to the virtues of silent companionship, simply watched. She was no expert in caring for her Strider, anyway - to some extent, her father's skill in the area had crippled her, as he tended to take care of the area himself rather than letting her learn. So, while with the first period, she watched quietly, seeing if she should correct or redirect or augment the lesson, to be honest after a short time her mind wandered, watching the woman's clever hands, the bird-like intensity of her face, the peculiar frankness of her control of her body. The unfamiliar way the dress hung on her. The woman had a way of moving that was devoid of unecessary forethought, that, while Ara, would not have verbally described she found fascinating. A certain in-the-moment quality, that, combined with the habitual qualities of one always aware of her surroundings, gave her a wild air.
Ara began to wonder, quietly, how the woman had even come to be in the Endrykas - who had shown her the way to the city, and then left her to wander the city in the nude. And not even the outskirts! If it had been the edges, she would think, perhaps, she was one of the Wild Folk of the desert, who she had heard stories of, though she did not remember them being nude, and that seemed the sort of detail one would hear mentioned. But, such a one would have been stopped and mentioned, would have made her way around the rumor mills, long, long before reaching far enough into the city to reach the farrier-market!
Ara watched with her own observant eyes. There was that kinship at least between them, both watchers. Ara recognized the way the woman's eyes would subconsciously scan the area, the subtle pricking of the muscles of the neck and head at little sounds in the area, the way one might recognize the mannerisms of a long-lost relative. Ara watched the woman's crouch, to see if her hams and ankles would grow tired in the long stiff crouch, the way a foreigner's did, watched to see if the muscles of her calves twitched tensely under her body weight. She looked at the woman's hair, to see if it was cared for with the same caution and forethought that a Drykas woman would usually protect her own braids - not with vanity, simply with simple pride and duty of one protecting one's own symbolic connection to the tribe. She watched her knees, to see if they would chafe and struggle under the seemingly unfamiliar confines of a skirt, if she would hitch it up to her thighs, like Livy did when her blood-time made her work in a skirt, or spread it into a broad empty half-shell, as Ara tended to do. There was no real, immediate aim to these observations, simply... the pleasure of discovery. The creation of an identity in her mind for the woman.
She was clever, indeed with her hands, and more than this, confident, and unabashed at a new skill, and pleasantly, did not seem to mind Ara's silence crouching behind her - that was one of the quickest things to drive a new acquaintance away in Ara's experience, was their discomfort with her quiet, though in respect for its compulsory nature, most people wouldn't say as much aloud. The woman before her, though, had the quiet aplomb of a hunting animal - speech would have been simply a distraction, a social lubricant in a situation not in need of lubrication. When the woman finished, and handed the tools up to Livvy, Ara simply smiled, as Livvy nodded, and murmured, a "You're WElcome," in common. The slave woman frowned, awkwardly, then repeated the words, slowly, in Pavi, gesturing in front of her with the more angular style of speech natural to her. She made the gesture again, and explained in common, "Sincerity. And... it translates bad... like... invitation to ask again?" Livvy shrugged.
Ara watched. It was odd to see Livvy around someone so new and strange, it changed her in Ara's eyes. Endrykas was in many ways a very closed city, and normally when foreigners did come, they were not people, so much as merchants. And merchants selling things valuable or unusual enough that they were leery selling them to a slave. Ara realized how small Livvy's world was, and wondered in a quiet, disturbed way if her friend was lonely. It made Ara frown a little, and contemplate what their friendship was. For Ara, of course, she was genuinely fond of Livvy, in fact, could hardly imagine living without her, no more than she could imagine living without her hands, or her eyes. But for Livvy? She wondered how much of Livvy's affection for her was simply the necessity of not having a choice to the contrary.
But the woman was done, and Ara was wool-gathering. She stopped herself, and smiled thinly, standing, and without even thinking of it, extending a hand to help the woman up - the gesture one might give to a foreigner, whether it was needed or not. On the way she leaned in and whispered, "You ride, ride Canterfoot? You be in Endrykas, you must learn horses, riding, hmm?"
x
Ara began to wonder, quietly, how the woman had even come to be in the Endrykas - who had shown her the way to the city, and then left her to wander the city in the nude. And not even the outskirts! If it had been the edges, she would think, perhaps, she was one of the Wild Folk of the desert, who she had heard stories of, though she did not remember them being nude, and that seemed the sort of detail one would hear mentioned. But, such a one would have been stopped and mentioned, would have made her way around the rumor mills, long, long before reaching far enough into the city to reach the farrier-market!
Ara watched with her own observant eyes. There was that kinship at least between them, both watchers. Ara recognized the way the woman's eyes would subconsciously scan the area, the subtle pricking of the muscles of the neck and head at little sounds in the area, the way one might recognize the mannerisms of a long-lost relative. Ara watched the woman's crouch, to see if her hams and ankles would grow tired in the long stiff crouch, the way a foreigner's did, watched to see if the muscles of her calves twitched tensely under her body weight. She looked at the woman's hair, to see if it was cared for with the same caution and forethought that a Drykas woman would usually protect her own braids - not with vanity, simply with simple pride and duty of one protecting one's own symbolic connection to the tribe. She watched her knees, to see if they would chafe and struggle under the seemingly unfamiliar confines of a skirt, if she would hitch it up to her thighs, like Livy did when her blood-time made her work in a skirt, or spread it into a broad empty half-shell, as Ara tended to do. There was no real, immediate aim to these observations, simply... the pleasure of discovery. The creation of an identity in her mind for the woman.
She was clever, indeed with her hands, and more than this, confident, and unabashed at a new skill, and pleasantly, did not seem to mind Ara's silence crouching behind her - that was one of the quickest things to drive a new acquaintance away in Ara's experience, was their discomfort with her quiet, though in respect for its compulsory nature, most people wouldn't say as much aloud. The woman before her, though, had the quiet aplomb of a hunting animal - speech would have been simply a distraction, a social lubricant in a situation not in need of lubrication. When the woman finished, and handed the tools up to Livvy, Ara simply smiled, as Livvy nodded, and murmured, a "You're WElcome," in common. The slave woman frowned, awkwardly, then repeated the words, slowly, in Pavi, gesturing in front of her with the more angular style of speech natural to her. She made the gesture again, and explained in common, "Sincerity. And... it translates bad... like... invitation to ask again?" Livvy shrugged.
Ara watched. It was odd to see Livvy around someone so new and strange, it changed her in Ara's eyes. Endrykas was in many ways a very closed city, and normally when foreigners did come, they were not people, so much as merchants. And merchants selling things valuable or unusual enough that they were leery selling them to a slave. Ara realized how small Livvy's world was, and wondered in a quiet, disturbed way if her friend was lonely. It made Ara frown a little, and contemplate what their friendship was. For Ara, of course, she was genuinely fond of Livvy, in fact, could hardly imagine living without her, no more than she could imagine living without her hands, or her eyes. But for Livvy? She wondered how much of Livvy's affection for her was simply the necessity of not having a choice to the contrary.
But the woman was done, and Ara was wool-gathering. She stopped herself, and smiled thinly, standing, and without even thinking of it, extending a hand to help the woman up - the gesture one might give to a foreigner, whether it was needed or not. On the way she leaned in and whispered, "You ride, ride Canterfoot? You be in Endrykas, you must learn horses, riding, hmm?"
x
