[Southern Border Post] Differences

[Pjeil]

Summer was almost at Kalea, a score or so days left and spring's cool embrace and snow melting floods would cease. Thankfully the trade caravan bound for the Southern Border Post was almost at its destination. The young Isur was at his limit. Travel had been slow and although this meant new sights for Pjeil it made him reflect on home, his sister and and his mother. It was scary to be so far from home. At least his uncle was with him, that made things better. His father was also with the party, but that wasn't as comforting.

"Look, Pjeil. You can see the border from here." came Maxas' voice. Pjeil eagerly looked forward to where his uncle's finger indicated. At first he couldn't see it, but as the young man looked, the top of the fortress came into view from behind the hills. He looked back behind him, towards home for a moment before turning back around, picking up his pace to catch up to his uncle. In that brief moment the he saw the full length of the caravan. It stretched back for about a mile, oxen and Ixam hauling goods and their handler's and protectors tending to the goods. On either side a sea of treetops bordered the road. Pjeil could tell those trees made his uncle nervous; every time he heard a twig snap or the sounds of animals his poor elder cringe everso slightly and clutch at the arm he no longer possessed. Only Zith had that effect on the weathered old man. Zith.

But they were almost there, only a half a day's walk left. Or so the captain of the guard had told his father. "They would be home for supper" so he had said. If Pjeil didn't travel ever again, it would be too soon. After he got home of course. His feet hurt and he hadn't had a proper bath in days. All his clothes were travel stained and he probably didn't smell too pleasant. He couldn't wait to get to into a warm bath. Izurdin taught strength and endurance, especially against things one didn't like, but that didn't mean he asks his children to go without life's pleasures.

Pjeil eyed the lead driver enviously. He got to sit on his rear all day. He didn't have sore feet by the end of the day, though... his uncle nor his father never complained, maybe it was just him? He leaned against a tree and tugged at a weight on his ankle. The blasted thing kept coming out of his boot, why did his uncle insist on him wearing these things. He wasn't a baby. The young isur stuck his tongue out at his uncle's back before fixing his pants leg and hurried to catch up. "Is it lunch time yet?" he asked Maxas. The lead driver, who overheard it, smirked at the child. "Not yet child. Looks like we are making good time, we should make it to the Border Post a little after the noon bell if we skip lunch. He raised a hand to forestall an objection, "Don't whine, it was a decision between the captain, the head merchant and your father. You can't change it now."

This day wasn't going the way he wanted. He hung back, pouting and kicking at rocks along the path. Up before dawn, travelling with a meager breakfast, and now no lunch? On top of that he was terribly homesick. He didn't regret coming along on the trip, but somewhere along the way he found that travelling wasn't the exciting adventure he had hoped for, that he had dreamed of. Pjeil sighed in resignation, at least they were almost there.


-----

And indeed, they made it to the Tower just after noon. Pjeil was so used to walking every waking moment of the day that sitting on his bed, in the room he shared with his family, felt like he was still moving. He knew he was not moving. His body thought he was, or at least that he was supposed to be moving. But he was not bothered by that now that he was full and content, though perhaps a nap would have been in order. He shook his head at the idea, if his father caught him sleeping during the day he would be punished. He sighed, he needed to get out of there, he would be too tempted to sleep.

The Southern Border Post was an amazing place. A single pillar of stone, timber, metal and magic. He had no idea how long they were going to stay here, probably after his father finished the Council business he was after, but he knew that he was going to explore every nook and cranny of this monument to Izurdin's might.

Maxas went with his tools to pay homage to the Priests. How the one-armed Isur was going to craft anything was beyond Pjeil, but he knew that his mentor would come up with a way. As for his father, he was nowhere to be seen. So the young, blue armed child contented himself with exploring the various balconies. The presence of the Isur here was interesting. Hard to imagine that only 300 people lived here. It appeared that there were more than there was. And there were all sorts, Cogilias, Vizarian, Sultros, Terras, even Pitrius. A curious fact given the unrest that the Pitrius and the Terras were causing. All over how they treat humans and outsiders.

Each balcony held a breathtaking vista. Scenes of snowcapped mountains and vast forests, rolling hills and the great river were easily visible. Pjeil imagined that he could see Sultros from here. Sure it was a 15-20 day trip, but that view, he felt he could see clear across the world. He leaned over the railing and looked down into the courtyard. A mischievous thought crossed his mind morphing his face into a wicked grin. He could spit on these people and no one would ever catch him. Just in case... He better not, Maxas would just give him one of those stern looks that made Pjeil feel bad about everything.

Moving to the other balconies was a bit of a challenge however, it required going through the confusing corridors and stairs of the tower, a lot of walking just to move 10 feet to another balcony. Somehow he found himself in the courtyard, not on the balconies. Oh well, he would find his way back up there eventually. He dashed off along the main path, his foot pain and travel-weariness long forgotten. He was quickly lost, again. The courtyard was small, but it was obviously built with defense in mind. Invaders would have to navigate the maze-like confines to even get into the fortress. All the while having to deal with the the Isur's attack from above. It was very clever.

Pjeil frowned, having lost his bearings. He tried to picture in his mind where he was from the balcony but none of his surroundings seemed to match what he saw. No one was around, he was in what looked like a courtyard within the Courtyard. An alleyway was behind him and an alleyway entrance was on the opposite side of this space hedged in by the backs of cottages. Doors went into houses, which he assumed opened up to larger roads. Clothes hung out to dry fluttered softly in a wind, wires attached to the tip of a statue of an Isurian hero's sword anchoring sheets and clothes. It was somewhat irreverent to use a piece of art that way. But, he supposed, at least it wasn't The First Son's statue.

He made his way through the opposite alleyway that he opened out in into what he recognized as the Trading Ground. Overcome with excitement he hurried out, but immediately on exiting he bumped into someone and fell back on his rear. "Excuse me, sorry" He immediately supplied, flushed with embarrassment.

"These are the words that are coming out of my mouth"
"These are the words that are coming out of your mouth"

[Kavala]

The Konti was really enjoying herself. She’d slipped out early to watch the sun rise over the mountains and had then wandered further around the market, this time to look at fabrics and exotic clothing from The Kingdom seamstresses. She knew Riverfall had balls and formal occasions in the winter especially and thought it would be nice to pick up some clothing she could wear for that time. By then the child would have been born and hopefully she’d be back in her original physical condition. Kavala had broken her fast in the bar, gazing out that miraculous window this time to overlook a castle that perched on rough fingers of mountains. She recognized the place, unlike the last view, from her chavi walks down her own timeline. The place was Ironrock, and there had been so much history there. It had made sense to the woman to break her fast overlooking Ironrock, and had reminded her as she blew her breath on the overly warm breakfast grain the Isur preferred how much she missed her animal shape.

She knew of the discipline of Morphing and while having just finished watching the actual sunrise and now being inside watching a second one over Ironrock – Marcus Kelvic’s original fortress - Kavala realized that in what she was doing at The Sanctuary was a lot like what he’d done there. Sure, the mad science of working with the mimic was gone. But in its place was medicine, which was more prudent for modern day Mizahar than it had been for the ancient visage of Mizahar she gazed out across. It was one thing to walk a chavi and remember something like Ironrock, but it was something altogether amazing to experience it again in all its glory just by looking out the bar’s magic window… one blessed and marked by Ionu.

Kavala bowed her head over her grains and gave a quick prayer of thanks to Ionu for letting her see her long lost home again. It made her long for hooves and the ability to toss her head and snort and to run so fast that she owned the place between the earth and the sky. Kavala remembered. And it was in that remembering that she pushed her morning food aside, rose, and in a somewhat distracted state headed out to the market. She was going to look at fabrics and perhaps some perfume… something that was exotic and unique to the culture. She might even pick up some cosmetics for Rosela if she could find any, the Konti decided.

Slipping out of the bar and pulling her hood tight around her face to help with the bitter mountain cold, Kavala took three steps and awkwardly banged into someone that was as solid as a rock wall. She bounced off him and he bounced off her and they both ended in a somewhat awkward tangle. Kavala climbed to her feet, an apology spilling off her lips, and offered the Isur man a hand. It was a slim hand proffered, already sheathed in fur lined leather to keep it warm.

Kavala herself was dressed in a white fur cloak she’d purchased just a few days ago from the trading post. Beneath the white fur-lined cloak, Kavala wore a full set of Akalak fighting leathers all in burgundy red. Her gloves were dyed the same burgundy, and her boots were a matching black. She would have looked striking had her fur lined cloak been black, but the Konti had somehow managed to soften her outward appearance by layering the white fur-lined leather cloak over everything.

Her hair hung free, laying in straight waves down her shoulders. It was a pale color, almost colorless, which made her skin appear darker than it actually was. Her eyes were blue, bright with curiously and mingled in her gaze was a true sympathy and sorrow for the collision. “Forgive me. I’m so clumsy… I wasn’t even paying attention to where I was going. Can I offer you a hand up? I’m Kavala Denusk, a visiting healer just here for a vacation… not to plow into the natives and knock them around like bocce balls on the grass.’ Kavala said simply in common, and then offered her hand again, wanting to help him get back on his feet.

[Pjeil]

Naturally he had dropped into the isur's native tongue, he expected to have bumped into one of his kinmen. But when common was directed at him the youth kind of froze up. Truth be told, he had never interacted with a foreigner before. He knew common, at least he could understand it. But the only reason why he knew it in the first place was at his Uncle's insistence. He never figured he would actually have to used it.

Pjeil peered up at tall, young woman and was actually too astonished to use any common words. The woman was a pale, delicate creature. Just the woman's face told him that he should be surprised that he didn't break her by their little run in. She was gorgeous, not in the solid, marble statue way of Isurian woman that was the embodiment of human perfection. No, she was beautiful in an fragile, exotic way, something not completely human that was all the more alluring because of that fact. If Pjeil was 20 years older, if he was physically and mentally mature, he might have been attracted to the woman. As it was, he could only mutely stare at the woman's outstretched hand clad in a well made leather glove.

What should he do? These were the people that the kingdom was divided over. The Pitrius and the Terras were vehement about keeping those that destroyed the world away out of their homes. They wanted to keep the purity and unity of the Isurian race sacred. Which in by doing so, they divided it. Should he side with his father and his eldest uncle? They agreed with the vocal clans, where as Maxas and his mother urged towards openness. Husband against wife, brother against brother. The world was changing and that change was bringing strife. He would side with Maxas.

Moments passed At last he registered the words and returned with a heavily accented commonThink along the lines of russian or slavic accent., "Ezcuse me, I apologize many times for zhis." His cobalt blue metallic hand encased the konti's own and he used the woman to steady himself, though he refused to rely on her to get up. He felt that if he did he would have broken her; though he was thin and lanky, he was heavier and denser than he appeared. "My name is Pjeil Vueldmak. Was my fault, I took step without looking."

Her clothing spoke of exotic wealth that augmented her ethereal presence. Well made and fine quality of materials. Any Isur could have spotted that, though the konti seemed a bit overdressed for the time of year. Perhaps this is only due to being unused to the cool, high altitude of the Kalean region. As it was, Pjeil was already uncomfortably warm and he left his coat and boots at home, opting to go barefoot and in his simple and modest, Isur styled clothing.

He stood about a foot shorter than this Kavala so had to look up at her as she spoke. Later on he would feel ashamed of himself for not asking the obvious question, "What are you". But he was rather embarrassed and one of the words piqued his curiosity so he blurted out what was on his mind instead. He peered up at Kavala, "What is 'Bocce balls'?" The words felt strange in his mouth, they sounded like they almost wanted to be an Isurian word. He stepped closer to the tall, pale woman. He forgot the concept of personal space, the child curious and entranced by this newest find.

"These are the words that are coming out of my mouth"
"These are the words that are coming out of your mouth"

[Kavala]

Kavala blinked at the Isur’s accent and studied him closer. He was younger than she’d first thought. She looked most of the Isur in the eye or was slightly taller, but this one was considerably shorter. Though she couldn’t tell his age, he seemed… juvenile. There was a softness to his face that adults seemed to have lost in gaining their chiseled features. And he stared… a lot. Kavala shifted a moment, not used to being stared at, and she almost backed away. The boy’s voice startled her, and so too did the big blue hand that reached out to take her own. She braced so he could steady himself and when he was back on his feet, she offered him a smile.

“Nice to meet you Pjeil.” Her accent was strange as well. It was common with a deep burr that anyone on the other side of the world would have recognized as a tinge of pavi interlacing it. “It was equally mine. No need to apologize. My mind was a million miles away.” She said softly, her fingers flicking as if she wanted to use them to speak with as well, but refrained.

If Kavala were questioned, she would have laughed and agreed she was overdressed. Kalea was an odd sort of place. The mornings were crisp and cold, much like the nights in the mountains, and the afternoons heated up to a sweltering temperature. One tended to dress in layers – especially visitors – that had to be peeled off throughout the course of the day until one wore nothing but leathers in the warm afternoon sun.

Like any youth, Pjeil seemed to have no mind for asking blunt questions. The Konit smiled and stepped back a bit giving him room to brush off and recompose himself. She reached up, slide off her hood to reveal the scales across her forehead and spiraling down her neck. She splayed her hands a bit, flashing iridescent webbing between her fingers and revealing more scales sliding up her arms to disappear beneath the heavy fur robe.

“My people are called Konti. We are from Mura – the white isle – and are an all female race. I have been told it is rare for Konti to visit Kalea, so I am not surprised you have not met one of my sister’s before. We follow the Goddess’ Rak’keli and Avalis… and Laviku who is our father. Rak’keli is my patron goddess which is why I am a healer. I have no sight like most Konti are rumored to have. But instead I am skilled at making broken bodies whole again. My specialty is with animals.” Kavala said, not minding the youth’s look and giving him a chance to really study her. She’d heard rumors of the Isur’s dislike of humans and didn’t want the boy to mistake her as one.

“Your arm is beautiful. Someone told me yesterday that blue denotes Vizerian
clan. Is that true?” She asked carefully, trying in turn not to stare. Rideon – the bar tender in the place with Ionu’s Mirror – had said that the Vizerian clan was very strongly law and justice and devote to their god moreso than others. She wondered if an actual Vizerian would say the same.

[Pjeil]

This one liked to talk. The pale woman's moved a bit, as if she felt contained and needed to move her hands to express her ideas. He could understand that, many Isur that got excited would move their hands about, but he didn't understand why she held herself back. He liked listening to her voice though, it was soothing and fluid. It reminded the young Isur of flowing water or the ebbing flow of waves upon a lake shore.

His eyes were wide with wonder at this Konti. She was like a fish or a lizard. With scales that shined like opals in the sun or beautiful gems. Even her fingers had a bit of webbing that shimmered in the light. His hand moved to touch her scales but he caught himself and blushed. He wanted to touch those scales, feel the texture but he knew better than to infringe on his newest acquaintance's personal space, little that there was left.

These people, a race of all females. He could not even imagine what that would be like. He guessed it would be like a race of all men, as if only his father, his uncle and all the other men in his life were all that existed. They would be all brothers. So maybe it was like that for the Konti? They were all sisters or mothers or daughters. Which was an interesting idea, like the Isur who were the children of Izurdin, the Konti were the daughters of the god Laviku. He had never heard of the Laviku, but the other gods he certainly knew about. Avalis and Rak'keli both marked Isurian priests every now and then, Avalis more than Rak'keli of course. The Konti were not unlike the Isur in their divine origins. He smiled at the thought of this frail, delicate creature having much in common with the children of stone and strength.

He nodded his head in the rhythm of her words, showing his attentiveness and generally being a good listener.Wind picked up and had pushed a cloud in front of the sun. Shadows curtained the tower and he looked up. He hoped it didn't rain. Pjeil put the thought aside and went back to peering up at Kavala. He tilted his head curiously, wondering what a healer of animals could possibly be wanting in the Sultros kingdom. Trade was good and every foreigner wanted the things that the Isur made, so maybe that was the case here. But perhaps she had come to speak the words of her gods? She could be like his uncle was when he went to spread the teachings of Izurdin and Carnos, a missionary priest.

When she mentioned his arm he looked down at it, suddenly self conscious of something that he had all his life. His badge of honor among his race. "Yus. Blue means Vizerian Clan. You may feel if like. Is strong, like metal or maybe very hard stone." He offered his hand to her and continued speaking. "My brothers have other colors, can tell if you not know what they are, but we Isur are like you Konti, children of god. Perhaps you heard of Izurdin, holy one of forge and strong? Arm is gift from father who made us in his image. I never heard of zhis god Laviku, what is his... um... home?" He pondered over the common word for Domain or Realm, but could not come up with it.

He knew he was talking to much. He had such a problem with words. But even then, this wasn't a human he was dealing with. This one even had blood ties to her god, just like him. Wasn't that enough to provide a sort of kinship?

"These are the words that are coming out of my mouth"
"These are the words that are coming out of your mouth"

[Kavala]

It took Kavala a few chimes, honestly, to realize how young Pjeil was. His politeness was a clue, but then so was his wide-eyed wonder. It made her feel exotic the way he stared, almost like she was back among the Drykas as a lone Konti in a sea of humanity. When he spoke, she smiled and took his invitation to heart and reached out to feel his arm herself, running her webbed fingers over the blue surface, marveling at the hardness. In return, she pushed up the sleeve of her warm cloak and offered him her arm, so he could touch the scales running across the back of her hand and in elaborate spirals up her forearm.

“Indeed I have heard of Izurdin. I have come here for this visit to learn more of him in fact. There was something I was a witness too, something wholly unique and special, that I wanted to share with your people. It might be something you know already, but it seemed important enough in case you did not. Do you remember the storm of 512 when the year first turned on the first day of spring? It was the anniversary of The Valterrian. A man ventured to Wind Reach and once there found the prison of the God of Fire, Ivak, and set him free upon the world to bring back a semblance of normalcy to it after the Valterrian where the other Gods had to imprison him to keep him from destroying the world. I saw the events in this man’s head. It was the way of it for some Konti – this ability to see.” She did not get into the fact that she Dreamwalked Leo Varnik’s Chavi. That would take, perhaps, too much explanation.

“When he freed the God, he needed lots of help. He had powers to assist him, and he had shadowy creatures to aid and guide his hand. One of those creatures stepped out of the shadows and I saw him clearly. He was an Isur, a mighty one with an incredibly wrought crown. He was King Sultros. I journeyed to this land to tell that story... of how the Champion of Ivak freed Ivak from his prison with the help of your long dead King... and how noble your king was in his sacrifice a second time to help set things right.” Kavala said softly, slightly going down on one knee to put herself a bit more at Pjeil’s level. “After witnessing that in my head, I knew I had to come meet the Isur for myself. Your people are very much like your King. I have yet to meet a nobler lovely group of people who have made me feel incredibly welcome.” Kavala said, took a breath, and then answered his question.

“Laviku is one of the first Gods, Pjeil. He’s the god of the Sea. All things within it belong to him and it is said even the first life upon Mizahar crawled out of it. In fact, if you are an animal healer like me, sometimes you see a lot of bones. Do you know that sea lions and seals… those creatures that frolic in the harbor... have almost identical skulls to wolves? You can take a skull of a wolf and hang a lower mandible... the jaw... of a sea lion on it and it fits perfectly? The only difference is in their teeth. Wolves have cusped teeth… with multiple points… like we do. Sea lions have conical teeth… meaning they look like cones. So many people believe that at some point in history sea lions crawled out of the sea, gave up their aquatic lifestyle, and became the wolves on the land.” Kavala said, smiling and rising up. She glanced around and then quietly asked him another question.

“Where were you on your way too when I bumped into you? I was looking for something to occupy my time this morning. Do you have any suggestions?” She asked carefully, hoping the child would like to accompany her somewhere to talk further rather than stand out in the middle of the courtyard where to her it seemed cold.

[Pjeil]

Pjeil was really starting to like Kavala. He smiled wide and wiggled his blue, metal fingers to get a good feel of those webbed fingers. Strange, but very interesting! He hesitantly took the opportunity to touch those scales on her arms. He was somewhat unsure what the social protocol was for this, but she offered the chance and he would be a fool to let it go. The youth's guess that they were like fish was not far off the mark. They were smooth and warm, and he couldn't help but think of vast amounts of water when he touch those scales. With those webbed fingers and scales she probably could live in the waters just as well as on land.

Laviku, god of the... Sea? What is a "Sea". He frowned and tried to follow along with her words. Life crawling out of this "Sea", perhaps it is a word they use instead of caves? The god of caves would be interesting. It would explain why his daughters were so pale. He would have to ask her later at some point, for she kept speaking with that cool, flowing voice. A "Sea" lion, they were like wolves, and they lived in a place called a harbor. Harbor! He knew what that was, it had to do with the docks and ships, like the ones that was southeast. So did that mean that this Sea thing had to do with rivers or lakes? He made a noise close to a "Hrm..." as he thought.

A cool breeze filtered through the alleyways and the courtyard chilling the two of them. Perhaps it was not the breeze that chilled the young isur but instead the words that konti said with such enthusiasm about their king. The isur had a long memory and that one was a fresh one. In fact, it was the source of the straining of relations between the clans. "Many of my brothers had zhis vision. I did not. But father and uncle both had such visions. Though they both were different." He paused glumly, his excitement having washed out of him at the mention of the source of his family's recent problems. It was almost a pout, he hated the divide between his father and his uncle. Bad enough that his father harbored such apathy for him, now Maxas was getting into verbal conflicts and debates with him. "One was as you said, ze other was our king Sultros dying. It makes brothers argue amongst self. Strange zhat a not-isur saw this." He tilted his head up at her quizzically.

"I got lost" He blushed, admiring a perceived weakness was hard to do for an Isur, but it was the truth. "I was exploring ze balconies of ze tower, but found self here. Ze balconies see very far, thought could see home from here. Perhaps you seen views up zhere?" He said with a shy smile and continued, "Zhis is my first time here to ze Southern Border Post, we arrived at noon bell and I wanted to see everyzhing. I still do, from here to the forests, everyzhing." He smiled somewhat impishly, eager to do just that, go everywhere and get into everything.

Typically the young isur followed around his uncle, his de facto guardian, so he tended to gravitate to older individuals. Something like how a chick followed its mother about. So around this pretty and friendly Konti Pjeil felt the urge to stick close to her. He wasn't even all that conscious of the fact, but even just standing there discussing gods and visions, the youth inched closer to the konti. "If uncle is free, would you like to meet him?"

OOCSo I kind of messed it up, but the accent I am basing PJeil's common (Russian) has an interesting quirk. They have no TH sound in their language. They often replace it with "Z". I kind of did that, but imperfectly. Instead of Other it should be "Ozher" and so on.


"These are the words that are coming out of my mouth"
"These are the words that are coming out of your mouth"

[Kavala]

Kavala listened to Pjeil and thought about what he said. Were the Isur a sort of Seer race as well? She tilted her head and looked thoughtful as he spoke. So they saw and knew what had happened in Wind Reach with the freeing of Ivak? Kavala was getting a clearer and clearer picture of Pjeils youth and his understanding. And she also knew they were having a slight language barrier. It wasn’t just the boy’s accent but it was his puzzled look about things at times. She slowed her speech and the way she spoke down considerably. And she offered him a multitude of smiles. One thing she could think of was how much a child of the Isur could teach an adult of the Konti.

“I didn’t see it, not exactly… not like a vision. And King Sultros did indeed die. But it was more like he came back to finish something he helped start and sacrificed himself in the process.. for the greater good of the world. It was the most noble thing I’ve ever seen an individual do. I have the ability to see someone’s history by touching them if I try very very hard. And I looked into the history of someone who was there when it happened, seeing the events through his eyes. It was the man that released Ivak from his prison. I am going to assume you know who Ivak is. It was.. perhaps.. the most potent thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life.” Kavala said softly, wondering if Pjeil would even remotely believe her.

She laid her hand on his arm when he admitted he was lost. “I have a balcony room and all I can see is the ocean… out there.. the sea. And I can see the mountains behind us and to the sides. The mountains look vast and as if they stretch on forever. I’ve never seen anything like your mountains before.” Kavala said kindly and then nodded in agreement to Pjeil’s wanting to see everything. She could totally relate to that. It was exactly what she was doing as well.

“I totally understand. I was out exploring myself too. We can explore together if you want? But I don’t think I’m up to tackling the woods or beaches. I’d rather stroll the Southern Boarder Post, look through the markets and look around and see what there is to see here. We can be tourists together and learn from each other. How does that sound?” She asked, wondering if he’d accompany her through the traders once more. She could definitely buy him a treat or two, perhaps something sweet if the Isur liked such things, and when he suggested she might like to meet his uncle, she readily agreed.

“Of course. I’d love to meet more Isur. That’s kind of you to offer. What would you like to do first?” She said, curious and excited all at once. Pjeil was good company. And she didn’t want to loose the opportunity to get a glimpse at his culture through him and partially through his eyes.

[Pjeil]

His common clearly was not the best and Pjeil truly appreciated the boring lessons he had received from his uncle thus far. It was actually a much more difficult langauge than he had ever supposed. So when Kavala slowed down for his sake, it was not lost on him. Even just a bit helped him understand better, allowed him to think about what she was saying and to formulate a response.He gave her a shy smile, thankful for her kindness as she spoke.

Pjeil shook his head a bit at her description of the event. It was not that he did not believe the pale scaled woman. It was how the description mirrored his details in his father and uncle's arguments. He held his tongue though. He may yet get another chance to try and explain what the Isurian people had seen on a whole. But... this way to see a person's history. That intrigued him the most. Perhaps it was like his uncle's True Sight*The term incorrectly taught to him by his uncle for Auristics. Only that seemed to give insight on the nature of things around him, not tell thoughts, memory or.. history.

"Yus. Ivak... is both good and bad for Isur. Many blame humans for causing zhe Valterrian but zhey know that in zhe end, was Ivak who did much of zhe damage. Story say was Izurdin zhat made the cage where Ivak lived. He is now free, uncle says zhe vision was a gift from our Father." Though he left out that his father claimed it was a warning against the humans, " Is like we live in time of long ago when Izurdin walked with his children. Now he looks on and watches his children from afar and occasionally entreats us with gifts, but still, zhe gods are among us." He spoke, thinking of how much his father was like Izurdin.

It is kind of an irrational thing to be prideful over the mountains, but he was when his new friend mentioned it with such wonderment. They were his home. A dangerous home, but where they were all he knew. He beamed a bit, having saved face from being lost. "I would like zhis very much, Kavala." He spoke her name awkwardly, the syllables unnatural in his mouth. "Uncle is probably still working on gift to Izurdin's name so would like to explore zhe markets with you. He probably will look for when done."

Perhaps Pjeil could talk to her more about his people and he could find out about hers. When she led, he would ask, "What is your home like? Is it near the 'Sea'?" He asked, curiosity raising the pitch of his voice. He could not help but imagine a great lake in that word. He had never seen a Sea before and due to the distance the Sultros and by extension the Border post was from it, he imagined he never would. The child's hand instinctively found the taller, adult woman's hand as the two of them went to explore together. Where she went he would follow.

"These are the words that are coming out of my mouth"
"These are the words that are coming out of your mouth"