Closed On Top of the World (Zhol)

[Khara]

.
... 13th of Fall, 514av

It was strange how life could just sneak up on you. Or, at least, that was how Khara wanted to think about it. She didn't want to think of it as Lhex playing a cruel joke, though that was just as probable a reason as to why, after suddenly having everything seem to click into place at the turn of the season, having any sort of interaction with her possible only friend in Wind Reach had suddenly become an impossibility.

It wasn't on purpose, nor absolute. It wasn't even a rarity for their schedules simply to not line up. She'd started scouting more on her own which meant longer hours, which either meant Zhol had finished up at the stables and had already had gone off for the evening meal before she even returned to Wind Reach, or she'd come by at a bad time and he would be in the middle of handling one of the horses and couldn't stop to talk, or something. It wasn't unusual, but that didn't stop it from being infuriating.

Of course, that had only been the first few days. The last handful had been something else entirely. It had all started with the eighth. An unusually good trip had brought her back to Mount Skyinarta's caverns far faster than she had expected, a sprint had been taken to the kitchens and the scout, tired but in high spirits, had caught sight of Zhol who had the biggest smile on his face that she had ever seen except for a handful of times when they had been alone together. Thinking back on it, Khara could vaguely remember herself taking several quick steps towards the table he had been sitting at, unaware of the fact that something was amiss in her expectations until something red had moved in her vision. A hand tussled deep crimson locks glittering with beautiful sky-blue beads that had resulted in a halt being brought to the Chiet's movements save for a hand reaching up to her own hair, the copper seeming so much more dingy in comparison... The stray twig hadn't helped anything. Recognition came next as she had realized it had been the Avora that worked with Zhol. The healer, Kami, the only person she could think of aside from Hansi that cared about the horses as much as the human boy did. They were sitting together, talking, laughing, and Zhol hadn't even so much as looked up at her.

She'd gone to bed hungry that night, not the smartest move considering the next day had been taxing as well, leaving her with far too many questions and ink stained skin and clothing.

Even the tenth brought no relief as she had drawn the unlucky duty of working on market day. The eleventh, however, the eleventh had made everything better. Okay, maybe only mostly better, Khara conceded as she thought back on it. The eighth had thrown her off. The little Chiet had thought she had everything figured out as far as how her and Zhol just... were. And then Kami had to come around and... and... be pretty and nice and had made Khara feel like she wanted to either shove the Avora woman on the floor or quickly run back to her room and bolt the door behind her. And guess which won out! The thought still turned her stomach.

But it wasn't all bad. On the eleventh, she had finally gotten to talk to him after scouting, they had finally gotten to go to the kitchens together and share a meal like usual. The ink stains on her skin had lightened up, leaving only somewhat embarrassing stubborn blues around the edges of her fingernails and fingertips rather than the vaguely bruise-like shape that the smear under her eye had appeared as for a day afterwards. Zhol had apparently visited the market finally, his clothing spoke of that at least. Why had she noticed his clothing?? The whole time they had talked and she had managed a smile here and there and inside felt like she wanted to reach across the table and grab his brand new shirt, twist it in her hands and demand to ask if he was dressing up at work for the Avora lady she had seen him with two nights prior. Or do something else to him, her mind added unhelpfully to the recollection and the visualization made her cheeks burn just to consider it.

Eventually the thoughts had let up, though, and conversation had turned to various things, eventually touching on Zhol's family and his twin sister, which in an effort to avoid any sort of discussion on that particular notion, Khara had made mention of the Twin Lakes and had been downright appalled at the fact he hadn't yet visited them. So plans were made for their next mutual day off and Khara had assumed it would just be a normal average day, a normal hike, a day around the lakes and hopefully a return in time for dinner without the both of them smelling too much like sulfur.

That had been the plan. Or, at least, her plan. Zhol apparently had other ideas.

Khara glanced to her side, where Zhol lead the mule covered in more items than she could conceive being necessary for such a simple trip. She had woken up that morning to find him standing outside her door with the creature, a question about it had been deflected with a mysterious it's a surprise and a comment about bringing her bow. She hadn't known what to think of it all, but the prospect of the unknown, of having to trust Zhol, the excitement of a secret he had for her, was far more than enough to have her willingly comply.

As the trio - Inarta, Human, and mule - stepped out of the twisting cavern system and finally into the last bit of stretch before the lakes, Khara couldn't help but breathe deeply in and cast an overly contented smile towards Zhol. He had worn something different from when she had met with him in the kitchens again, maybe he was just tired of the slightly ruined clothing that he had arrived with but she couldn't help but find some sort of appreciation for it. Especially the coat he wore. She liked the way it looked casual but sturdy, what she had thought was just a grey in the tunnels now showed to be a green that looked best suited for concealing someone among the pine trees that littered the lower elevations. It matches his eyes kinda, the intrusive thought was shoved down and choked on with a string of inner scolding.

Khara brought a hand up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she looked up at Zhol, a nervous smile crept to her that she desperately hoped wasn't showing any of her inner thoughts. "You," she began, far more timid sounding than she wanted. The second attempt was only marginally better as she had to shut out the practical screech that was telling her to silence herself. "You look nice."

"Nari" | "Common" | "Very Broken Pavi"

[Zhol]

|.

Nice?

At any other time, that would have been a horrible word. Nice was not an adjective one committed to: it was an abortion, what one said when one couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't insulting. He didn't look handsome, or dashing, or any of the words that men usually wanted to be called on the rare occasions that someone complimented their appearance.

But from Khara?

From Khara it was like a sonnet; like the weeping of doves; like a divine chorus singing out in praise of his radiant beauty. It was so graceful, so elegant, so simple; and so very much what he desperately wanted her to say. She'd noticed it, noticed him, and the rest of the shyking world could just petch right off, because Zhol of Wind Reach was standing atop it, and the most wonderful woman he had ever known had said he looked nice.

Suffice it to say, Zhol's face turned the colour of an autumn watchtower, and he had to turn away and attend to the mule, just so hide how broadly it had made him smile.

Truth be told, Zhol was about as nervous as a pig in a butchery. After so many days of stress, anxiety, and most of all missing Khara, he was once again alone with her, without another soul in sight: just as he had been craving to be since they'd parted ways on their return from watching the season change. It had been a difficult, sleepless night for him, wrestling with the revelation that he and Khara were destined to be the best of friends - family, even - but absolutely nothing more. But by the light of the Wind Tower, he'd bared his soul; and now every idle moment his muscles recalled the feel of her hand atop his, the tightness of her arms wrapped around him, the weight of her leaning against his shoulder; every time he closed his eyes, he watched the fire sparkle in her eyes.

When they had first met, when he had saved her and taken her to his room for safety, she had thought he was merely the same as any other Avora, and that he expected her body as payment for his heroism: a false assumption that had filled him with horror, sadness, and anger at a culture that allowed such treatment to become the norm. Every day since, he strove to convince her to look past her ingrained Chiet deference and treat him as an equal; it had been a noble objective at first, for the sake of her self worth and their friendship, and nothing more than that.

In recent days though, things had changed; slowly, and then all at once, he had seen her in new ways, wanted from her things that twisted his gut with guilt. He could ask, and she would dutifully give, satisfying those wants without hesitation; and therein lay the problem. How could they ever be anything more than mere friends, if any advance he made would be obeyed regardless of how she felt? It had eaten away at him, and when the ending of the season and his worsening nightmares had left him missing home more than ever, those doubts and his despair at their futility had turned him into a quaking wreck.

Then suddenly, it began to turn. Drusilla had found him, drowning in his emotions in the warrens, and her kindness - and the Dreaming Lady - had helped to straighten his thoughts, and helped ease his tormented dreams. While the Symenestra who called him brother had discerned his affection for someone through insight and sheer detective skill, his confession to Kami had been voluntary; she had seen his slowly worsening struggle as a few days without seeing Khara had stretched into eight, and had offered friendship, comfort, and advice; it was she who'd planted the idea of new clothes in his head, it was she who'd suggested that archery - something he had already slowly begun to embrace - might give them some common ground; and while Khara had provided the venue, and Zhol was the architect of this elaborate plan, it was Kami's advice that had brought him here, alone with Khara, away from everyone, looking nice.

He was glad she wasn't here now; he'd been so anxious when he'd collected Bucky from the stables that morning, and she'd assured him everything would be fine; her smug satisfaction at having been right would probably have worsened his embarrassment to the point where all of his blood blushed clean out of his face.

He modulated his breathing, drawing on one of the alleged - he wasn't completely convinced that they actually worked - meditation techniques he had read about in the Hideaway to force his skin back to the colour of a normal human being. Cautiously he peeled back the blanket that covered the precarious bundle of equipment that his plan required - his bow, and everything he needed to turn the Twin Lakes into an impromptu archery range, as Kami had told him yesterday that young Inarta were inclined to do during the summer months - and snuck a small parcel from one of the mule's saddlebags. His hand trembled a little as he held it; Leyla from the clothing stall had recommended it, and Kami had enthused that the gift was a wonderful idea, but Zhol shook with dread as he considered how devastating it could be if Khara reacted to her present the wrong way.

"I -" he started to say, his nervous mind suddenly fumbling, at a loss to find even basic words of Common. "I went to the last market," he managed to say, turning back towards her, staring steadfastly at the parcel and absolutely not at her. "I got -"

His voice failed again, and he anxiously thrust the parcel out towards her. "I'm sorry if you don't like it."

"Pavi" | "Common" | "Nari" | "Symenos"
This template was made by Khara. She was bribed with coffee and jammy dodgers.

[Khara]

Khara's hands reached out on the simple expectation that they would move, the bright smile had faded to what she was certain was nothing more than a blank mindless look complete with blinking purposely as her brain attempted to fire off some sort of response but failed completely in doing so. Stupidly, she would later describe it.

A... Gift? Even just holding onto the wrapped parcel felt wrong somehow. No one gave her gifts. Her life was filled with empty threats and maybe the occasional entirely unexpected verbal thank you that she always felt far more deeply than the speaker ever intended. But this? This just didn't happen.

The corners of her lips pulled up in the smallest smile, subtle dimples flashing and disappearing almost as soon as they formed. This is some sort of mistake. Not on her part, no, she was blameless for once. Zhol must have been confused, ill advised by someone into thinking she was worth giving anything to. The meals they shared, the portions that he didn't have to give to her but did anyway, that was more than she deserved so this, whatever this was...

The disbelief took hold, casting a feeling of complete disembodiment as the small motions of her hands carefully, gently, meticulously unfolded the paper. It's barely rough texture was realized far more than she normally would have with each portion that was peeled away. The sudden flare of crimson in her view almost blinding and caused her breath to catch.

It was a scarf. Not an over embellished silk thing like the kind the Endals liked to parade around in. It was simple, the knitting even and sturdy, but it still felt as though her hand would melt entirely through its softness when she finally got the nerve to cautiously run her fingertips against the fabric.

She wanted to speak, wanted to question everything it may or may not have represented. A scarf wasn't some be-all-end-all sort of thing, but it wasn't exactly uncommon knowledge of how such a thing could be perceived between two people in Wind Reach. It wasn't the sort of thing you gave to a passing fancy, or a one-night stand, and certainly not the kind of thing an Avora ever gave to one of their lower caste interests...

Her lower lip had found its way tucked between her teeth again and it was only after a few ticks had passed that the sudden realization hit that she had been completely silent the entire time. Eyes widened as she looked back up to Zhol. "I don't deserve this."

The words tumbled from her, chirped like a startled thrush and for once she was glad it had come out in Nari rather than something he would readily understand. "It's really, really nice," she corrected herself. The appreciation and questioning managing to come through fully. "I really like it. It's so pretty, just like a ruby, right? It's just..."

Khara struggled. It made no sense! Worse still was she was completely rambling, avoiding the one word that needed to be asked. She desperately hoped to hear it was all some sort of mistake or misunderstanding or that he just flat out didn't get the possible significance. Yet in the back reaches of her mind that she had forcefully shoved away Khara knew what she really wanted him to tell her; that this wasn't some simple token of appreciation or gratitude or whatever. It sounded so strange to her to think of it that way, but some portion of her ached to have him say that he fully knew what he was suggesting with the simple thing.

Instantly the guilt struck again, stronger, condemning her for the secret wishes that retreated back into the deepest recesses she could bare to allow. "Wh-Why?" She finally managed to stammer, eyes looking at Zhol but avoiding meeting with his for fear of everything he'd see in that instant.

"Nari" | "Common" | "Maybe Pavi. Sort of?"

[Zhol]

|.

Usually, his inability to understand the Nari words that the Inarta spoke was a curse, one that burdened him and everyone around him each and every day. It was a curse he struggled against, despite his own shortcomings when it came to learning, and through determined, desperate, unending struggle, he had the faintest, gentlest grasp on the language of Wind Reach. His accomplishment was small, but it was for her most of all, and that made it worthwhile; but if there was a way he could possibly erase more than a year of vocabulary and understanding from his mind, he would have.

He only recognised two words of what she had said, but they were the most devastating two words she could have uttered. I don't. There was no way he could imagine that allowed that sentence to end well.

She hated it. Or worse, didn't need it; didn't want it. She said it was pretty, so that ruled out the aesthetics; perhaps she didn't like wool? Perhaps she didn't like scarves? Did she have some sort of allergy? Did she hate red? She'd understood the significance of the colour, at least in part: ruby like the Ruby Clan, yes; the perfect colour for someone he desperately wanted as part of his family, though perhaps not quite in the same capacity that she did. But it was supposed to be more than that, it was supposed to remind her of the Wind Tower, of the time they had spent together a few days ago, of how close to each other they had been. Or, perhaps he was wrong; perhaps the scarf was fine, but the sentiment was unwelcome; I don't want you.

Her why struck him like a hammer blow. It was an invitation, to tell the truth, to bare his soul, to pour fuel onto the fire that was burning the bridges between them. They'd said she'd know what it meant; perhaps she didn't believe it; perhaps she didn't want to believe it. He was an Avora, but a useless, broken, outsider of one; of course she wouldn't want that, wouldn't want him. How could a girl as perfect as her ever lower herself to a man such as him?

His eyes fell, and the only possible answer to her question filled his mind. They had seemed so right when he had learned them, so much potential to help him truly share how he felt. Now however they were mournful, pathetic, pitiful sounding. He barely even managed to look at her as he said them.

"Because I missed you."

"Pavi" | "Common" | "Nari" | "Symenos"
This template was made by Khara. She was bribed with coffee and jammy dodgers.

[Khara]

I missed you. It wasn't his typical bumbling through Nari, his misspoken phrases and bad accents that made similar sounds mean entirely different things. It had been clear, precise, perfect. And with the phrase had gone all caring about what exactly that could mean. It didn't matter if it was meant as family, all that mattered was that it was said and Zhol had learned to say it exactly how it needed to be.

Khara could feel her pulse thudding, drifting from her chest to her neck up to her head where if felt like at any moment it could cause something to rupture. The Chiet realized she had been holding her breath again and forced a sudden painful inhale as if she was taking in water rather than air. Over everything she was experiencing, however, one thing stood out: Zhol's expression. He looked pained, hurt, the similarities to when she had seen him first wear that mask were staggering. What misunderstanding had happened this time? How had she unintentionally wounded him? More importantly, how could she make it stop?

"Zhol?" His name left her mouth questioningly, waiting for him to look back up at her. It seemed agonizing waiting for that to happen, her hands clenched around paper and soft wool alike until green met gold.

When they had been sitting near the Wind Tower, the small displays of affection had been easy, and not entirely due to the fact she had simply felt more relaxed. Now though, her movement was quick, graced partically with agility learned from running through the wilderness of Kalea. A gentle lunge, feet gone to toes only, the scarf held tightly in one hand as her free arm wrapped suddenly around Zhol's neck and shoulder. The force behind it made her thankful for a split second of the fact she wasn't his height otherwise their heads may have collided painfully. As it was, she turned just in time to have the side of her head hit his chest with a touch more impact than she wanted as her overall balance gave way to the trust he wouldn't let her fall. Her eyes had shut tightly as for an instant she tried to squeeze herself against him with the small leverage she had.

"I missed you too." An added quip of a fake insult was held at bay despite better judgement suggesting she use it to keep things from getting awkward.

It was that thought that made her let go, releasing all too soon but not unable to resist her hand trailing from his shoulder down his arm, lingering hesitantly at his wrist before deciding on better judgement and pulled away to help the other clutch at the scarf. A small, embarrassed laugh left her. "It's perfect."

Breathless and still feeling more than a touch foolish she continued. "It's just, I thought... I mean, it's kinda a thing here..."

Her eyes had strayed from his, wandering aimlessly as the pathetic attempt at explaining left her. Another forced half-supressed laugh left despite the smile she couldn't make stop. "It- it doesn't matter though," Khara said with a shake of her head. "I love it."

"Nari" | "Common" | "Sounds vaguely Pavi"

[Zhol]

|.

Two words would have done it. I know. Short enough for him to force it out before better judgement and second guessing kicked in. His chest tightened around his insights so intensely that he almost thought he would; almost thought it was a choice between admission or death. The thought was on her mind, the possibility was being entertained; all he had to do was confirm it, tell her that it was exactly what she thought it might mean.

But he couldn't. When she'd lunged towards him, he'd almost thought, hoped she was going to do something else; but it was an embrace, and an achingly short one at that, though the way her hand lingered on him just that little bit longer threatened to make him burst into flames. It doesn't matter, though, she's said, and she was right. How he felt, what he'd meant, what he wanted to say, all didn't matter. He couldn't be the one to say anything first, he couldn't, not after what had happened the first time they'd met. If some carnal payment was what she'd expected him to take for saving her, what price would her mind place on all these days of friendship, if he confessed and she didn't feel the same? And if he did, how would he know if anything that happened was truly what his Khara wanted, or if it was merely the Chiet telling her Avora what he wanted to hear?

What would I even say? his head berated, but his heart already had the words rehearsed and prepared.

Every time I see you, all I can think of is taking you in my arms, and kissing you until there isn't a single breath left in my body.

The thought of it made him blush; at least from the outside, it would seem like a reasonable reaction to what had apparently transpired. "Where I come from," he said, offering a sheepish smile to conceal his lie by omission, "It means that you don't want the neck of someone you care about to get cold."

"Pavi" | "Common" | "Nari" | "Symenos"
This template was made by Khara. She was bribed with coffee and jammy dodgers.

[Khara]

The weather was just slightly too warm for such a comfort, but regardless Khara finished unwrapping the crimson colored scarf and quickly wound it around her neck loosely. Her fingers played with the fringe at one end, a fidget that seemed to work it's way down until she was slightly rocking from toe to heel.

The motion was realized and quickly halted, another look cast upwards at Zhol. "I like your meanings better," she offered. It wasn't exactly the truth but it held at least some admission he hadn't really said before. Zhol had promised to protect her, promised they would always be able to spend time together and just be themselves, but that small phrase - someone you care about - sent her head spinning.

It was a feeling she didn't want to come down from, didn't really want to end, but a new realization struck her and sense tackled and sent nonsense sulking into the back recessed warrens of her mind.

With a scrutinizing gaze she looked from Zhol to the mule they had brought with them. The scarf had certainly been a surprise, but it seemed very far from what Zhol may have actually been referring to. He certainly hadn't brought the animal along to conceal such a simple object when any of the myriad of pockets in his coat could have done the trick.

"So," she started, her voice caught somewhere between playful and shy curiosity. "Will you be telling of what other surprises you are hiding? Don't think you need a whole mule for just a scarf. Am I right?"

"Nari" | "Common" | "A slice of Pavi"

[Zhol]

|.

Of course she preferred his meaning; it didn't carry the terrifying implication that the horse boy she wanted nothing more than friendship with might actually want those things from as well, despite all his assurances to the contrary in the past. Her discomfort stemmed from the same simple notion as his: he should not feel this way about her, and it was wrong of him to indulge even the tiniest fraction of it.

"Not yet," he replied, trying to fake their usual lighthearted banter, and not doing a particularly successful job of it. He wanted to say something to tease, something that would make her flush and squirm in that adorable way, something that would conjure that irresistibly cute and bashful smile; the cascade of guilt that came along with those desires robbed him of the capacity to do so. "Wouldn't be much of a surprise if I just told you right away, would it?"

Grabbing hold of the mule's lead, Zhol took a few slow steps, easing their precession back into motion. They had emerged from the warrens from the east, and the smaller of the two lakes - Zhol couldn't remember the names, let alone which one was which - was before them; as they descended the stone hewn steps towards the shore, he began to scan his surroundings, looking for the location that Kami had described: something about a grassy knoll and goats, off towards where the lake became the Katshika Falls. Zhol wasn't sure if what the Inarta thought of as a knoll was the same as what the Drykas thought of as a knoll, but there were certainly goats and they were certainly on some sort of grass-covered lump in the ground, so Zhol hoped that was it.

"Besides, I -"

His attempts at maintaining a conversation without stammering and his voice failing every few words were going wonderfully. He cleared his throat, trying to pretend that there was some sensible reason, rather than just his silly boyish feelings. He glanced across at Khara, all wrapped in her scarf, and wondered if it would be possible for Wind Reach's blacksmiths to craft him a heart of steel, so it wouldn't keep melting every time he looked at her.

"- I was hoping we could talk a little first." His eyebrows fidgeted awkwardly as his gaze fell away yet again. "I missed our dinners, and I, well -"

He cast her a nervous smile. "The way we talked, when the season changed? That meant a lot to me, not just sharing things about myself, but getting to know you more, too. I would -" His cheeks flushed a few shades more red. "I'd like to know even more about you, if that's okay."

"Pavi" | "Common" | "Nari" | "Symenos"
This template was made by Khara. She was bribed with coffee and jammy dodgers.

[Khara]

"Of course!" Khara called from alongside Zhol.

Rather than taking the easy method down the steps from the cave to Shivias' shore, the girl had opted to meander aimlessly alongside the path, stepping from one jagged rock edge to another along the decent. Each step balanced precariously, Khara kept her arms out to her sides to help avoid the tumble that, while wouldn't kill her, would certainly not be a pleasant experience. It seemed foolish, especially attempting the maneuvers with a bow, a mostly empty quiver, and backpack, but for some reason it didn't matter. She felt better than she had in a long time and it certainly wasn't on account of the crisp fall air, the clear weather, and the prospect of an enjoyable day off... Though those things didn't hurt any either.

Overall she was happy that aside from the few stray goats that had apparently managed to survive the famine and the mule, that Zhol and her were entirely alone. Granted, some part of her knew it was because of that other selfish want, but really if nothing else she felt liberated from expectations. She supposed others from Wind Reach who weren't working that day were busy taking care of errands or choosing to spend their free time in Thunder Bay before it fully closed down. Whatever the reason, it meant that she could make good on something she had said that final night of Summer without having to worry about others overhearing.

"Why would it not be?" Khara asked as she paused on a small ledge that allowed room for both her feet. As she looked to Zhol, her head canted to the side just slightly in a touch of confusion. "I said you could ask me anything. I meant that."

The confusion continued to tug at her as a small jump landed her lightly two steps in front of Zhol and the mule. The position made her have to look up at him all the more than usual and brought a slight self-conscious thought to her once again. Rather than entwine upon themselves, her hands reached up to the closest end of the scarf and once more twisted and tugged at the decorative loose ends of yarn.

"I've already told you of things I haven't said to anyone else. And now that we are like blood?" Khara questioned the word. The phrase Zhol taught her that she could almost remember had been analyzed and she attempted to pick out what possibly meant each thing, but she was still uncertain. She knew that there were things that Zhol did with his hands when he spoke to the horses, but she didn't know the significance of the movements. To try and emphasize her point, knowing full well it couldn't be correct, her hands rose in front of her and her fingers interlaced and locked together, leaving her thumbs free to nervously flick against each other.

She hesitated a moment before returning her hands to the somehow far more comfortable task of rubbing against the soft red fabric. Her eyes lowered as she watched herself wrap a finger entirely in a piece of the fringe. "I have nothing that I wish to keep hidden from you, Zhol."

Yet you will, anyway. Khara released the scarf again and a hand raised and waved halfheartedly near her ear as if lazily shooing away an annoying insect before settling for ensuring her hair was tucked in place. A small smile was offered before she quickly stepped back off the path and ascended the climb just enough to put her next to him and back on the edge of the same step Zhol occupied. "So what do you wish to know? I do not think this topic will last very long, I am not so interesting a person."

"Nari" | "Common" | "Not quite Pavi"

[Zhol]

|.

I said you could ask me anything. We are like blood. I have nothing that I wish to keep hidden from you.

It couldn't have been stated any plainer; and that in a way was liberating, Zhol supposed. She had nothing to hide from him, no unexpressed feelings to reveal; they were kin, family, and nothing more. All the maybes, all the wondering, all the hoping, all the considerations and sleepless nights, all faded from a dull roar in his mind to a quiet whisper. It was not what he wanted; but it was enough, and the certainty of it was freeing.

"Don't say that," he contested, at the suggestion that there wasn't anything about her worth knowing.

"You have a whole life that I do not know about. Years of experiences before I arrived. There is so much about you I do not know, and if you are my -" Internally, he grimaced at the words he found forming on his tongue; but it was the way Drusilla had used the word, and he liked her definition of it; liked the concept that it was a term you could choose to give to someone, to show how unbreakable the bond between you was. He struggled, trying to think of the Nari words. "- little lady?" That didn't sound right at all. Something similar? "Little sister," he corrected, "Then I need to know everything."

He frowned, trying to think of some simple example of the absent knowledge that his mind clamoured for. "Do you like red?" Such a basic question, and yet that was what his mind wanted: favourites, fears, preferences; the little things, so that he could prove with later actions that he knew, remembered, and cared. "What is your favourite colour? What was the first scarf you ever had? What was -"

He looked around him, searching for inspiration. His eyes settled in the space carved out of the side of the crater, for the Endals' wind eagles to land, and rest. He gestured towards it. "What was it like the first time you rode a wind eagle?"

"Pavi" | "Common" | "Nari" | "Symenos"
This template was made by Khara. She was bribed with coffee and jammy dodgers.