Lessons In Dust (Hope)

[Colt]

10th of summer, 514 a.v
morning

It was a hot day that had taken a stance over the Sea of Grass, although there was enough left of spring in the air that it wasn’t quite something to choke on. Not quite. There was a vague uneasiness in the air, at least for the Drykas; ten days into spring and still no clouds gathered on the horizon, leaving Syna to batter mercilessly at the plains and at those who lived upon it. Shahar had heard rumors of a water ration being discussed, and it made him reluctant to venture back into the city; perhaps it was selfish, but today he wanted to remain with those he had come to call family.

Breakfast had been eaten and the dishes cleared away and washed, although the leftovers remained in a covered pot over the fire so that stew could be made later in the day. With the morning routine finished, Shahar looked about the camp for the others that lived there; he had been wanting to introduce Hope to the grasslands properly for some time, and he had a nasty hunch that if he didn’t do so today then the opportunity might not come again for some while.

Shahar stood from where he had been sitting by the hearth, bringing the she-cat at his feet to attention. Observing the intent to leave in Shahar’s posture, Tuka rose onto her own paws and made ready to accompany him. The Dawnwhisper scratched her head fondly.

Tuka was almost full grown now, although here and there her pelt still displayed the telltale scruffiness of kittenhood. Her teeth were longer, her claws sharper, and her long limbs and wiry muscles had ceased to be awkward; her movements possessed the characteristic litheness of Drykas-bred hunting cats, even while her full power and potential had yet to arrive. She was in the last stages of growth, and made Shahar proud. Soon, he would find the time to take her––to take all the cats––to the Emerald pavilions to be properly trained. The prospect of having Tuka at his side on a real hunt thrilled Shahar to no end, and so he decide that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad for her to accompany the trip he had planned.

His first stop was by Hope’s tent, although he doubted she’d be there in this heat. If that was the case, he would continue on, through the camp and down to the horses if necessary, where he knew she could often be found. Wherever he caught sight of her, his approach would be the same: a nodded greeting followed by the spoken “Hope,” and come, excitement, purpose. “Today, we will ride more. I want to show you the grasslands,” properly.

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

* Hope * * Though not an early riser this morning, the newest member of the Dawnwhisper family had not been found in her tent, or around the housing area. As Shahar had suspected, the young woman was with the mare that Shahar had introduced her to long ago. Were circumstances different, Hope could see herself calling the lean mount her own, and she cared for and loved the horse as if that were the case. The girl had only been there for a few chimes before her guardian arrived, so she had not yet entered into a monologue with Dainellas, as she often did when she was around the gentle beast. She had no plan, but she debated scouting out a brush or two. It wasn't that Dainellas was dirty, or even dusty, but Hope imagined that the creature enjoyed the calming sensation of the brush against her fur just as much as Hope enjoyed using the brush. She didn't get the chance to make the decision, however, as Shahar announced himself as he came up behind her. Slowly getting to grips with the Pavi language, Hope was wary of the hand movements that accompanied the man's words when she turned to face him. They were clear, emphasised even, possibly to ensure that Hope could grasp their meaning. Some escaped her, but she understood that what he was saying was important... and maybe even exciting, if she understood correctly. The words too, were mostly understood. The pair were going to go riding again, and the girl sagged in trepidation, remembering the less-than-successful attempts of the past. But she nodded, still not confident enough to question a man she still considered as her superior. “To see the land is nice,” she responded in broken Pavi, “And knowing to ride like you can.” Though she hoped that they might go slower today, so that she might perfect her positioning on the bizarre saddle that the Drykas used. Although she had been in the grasslands for almost a year, the captive knew nothing of the lands. Hope imagined that this was mostly because of the constant movement of the tent city. It was disorientating, the constant movement, and she found it difficult to learn the land and routes... not that she had been particularly proactive in doing so. She stepped away from the mare and nodded again, “We can go slow? I can know the right seat for best riding?”

[Colt]

The horses it was, then, which didn’t surprise him. Akaidras had been grazing a ways from Hope and Dainellas, having decided that he neither liked nor disliked the girl, but when Shahar approached the stallion whickered in greeting and began to meander over.

Hope didn’t startle at him, at least not with any exact sense of fear for what Shahar could see, and she seemed to focus on his words and hands enough to comprehend them.

“Yes,” he said, shifting to compensate as Akaidras bumped his shoulder. Teaching, agreement. “I will help you ride. Your seat is not bad, your posture is bad. Today we will make it better.”

But before riding came tack, and before tack came brushes, and it would be incorrect to skip them. Hope had long since gotten a grip on the basic cleaning of a horse, and so he didn’t expect it would take long, but he wanted to introduce her to the yvas and how that was put on. Perhaps she wouldn’t do it all herself, at least not the first time, but to do it slowly and let her see it clearly would be the first step.

“Wait here,” he said, mirroring it with wait here. It was meant for Hope, but Tuka seemed to take it to heart, too––when Shahar turned to go back to the camp, Tuka took a few steps nearer to Hope and took a seat, looking for attention until the time came to move again.

Akaidras, however, did not stay; having decided that there was nothing better to do, the stallion followed his rider languidly, not in any particular hurry but not especially slowly, either. He followed his rider to the travois, where Shahar unearthed two familiar bags and caused Akaidras’ ears to prick forward in sudden interest. Shahar signed promise and then returned to Hope and Dainellas. Tuka chirped and stood, but then sat back down again when she realized that they still weren’t going anywhere.

Here, he signed, tossing Hope one of the bags. “Brush first, then yvas, then ride, then teach.”

To further demonstrate his point, Shahar took out the hoof pick from his own bag and gesture for Akaidras to stand still, which the stallion promptly did. Teaching by example was the easiest of methods, and besides, it was something Hope was already familiar with. He didn’t need to push her to do something as simple as cleaning a horse.

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

Hope

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Pale blue eyes followed Akaidras as he moved closer to his rider. Though the larger horse had never done anything to cause fear of him, Hope had always had a sense that he was no like Dainellas or Shadow. The dark beast was also most definitely Shahar's, and it was as if Akaidras thought Hope and other humans as unworthy of his attention. Her hand brushed gently along the yellow mare's mane, and any loose tangles came undone. Fighting to hide the smile that formed when Shahar took pains to both compliment and criticise her, the girl nodded.

“Yes. It hurt the back and on the seat... posture?” The word was most definitely unfamiliar to the girl, and she uttered it slowly, practising her pronunciation of the word as well as asking for confirmation of the meaning. She thought that it might have something to do with how she gripped the bizarre yvas device with her legs, but she could not be sure. But when told to wait, she nodded again, and her smile grew as, in the corner of her eye, she saw a ripple of movement from the hunting cat.

The creature must be full grown by now, Hope thought, or very near to. But she was just as desperate for attention as she had been when Hope had first met her. Crouching done, she reached over to stroke the feline's soft fur, “is he ignoring you, Tuka?” Her words were light, of an almost teasing nature - she had always liked the hunting cats, and had learnt of each of their personalities as they grew up slowly.

When Shahar returned, he had two bags in each of his hands, and Hope looked up, recognising them. She caught the nag that was tossed in her direction, narrowly avoiding the now prone feline, and placed it on the ground. Whereas before Hope might have watched her guardian and copied his actions, she had now developed her own processes, an order that made her feel comfortable, so their grooming plans diverged as the captive pulled out the currycomb and began to brush down the mare.

Dust flew from the creature, proving that, even though Hope had been to see her often, she had not necessarily been productive in her visits. The pale girl frowned, hoping that Shahar was too busy with his Strider and thus was not watching, and could not see the sheer volume of dirt that she was brushing Dainellas free of... she knew that he would not approve of her lack of care. But the process was still a relatively speedy one - Hope had grown used to following the flow of the yellow hair that fell across Dainellas' body.

Every so often, the girl would intersperse her brush strokes of the currycomb with a stroke of her free hand, which she would press firmly into the mare's body, checking to see whether or not there remained any lingering clumps of mud or dirt that her eye could not see. A few times after, she would brush over the area again, but most often she found the horse to be clean, and both sides of her body were finished within fifteen chimes. Placing the comb down, she searched out the hoof-pick, which she despised using, but she knelt down and stroked a hand along Dainellas' leg, persuading her to raise her front hoof.

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[Colt]

She caught the tossed collection of implements, and then Shahar left her to her own devices. He had seen her brush Dainellas enough to know that she understood the basics, and that any more skill with the brushes would come with practice, not by instruction.

And so he set about to his own horse, who offered his hide helpfully as Shahar retrieved the bone currycomb from his bag and set into the dust and dirt that the day had settled upon the animal. Regular circles to loosen the grime, starting on the shoulder and then moving back, towards the stomach and back––he went efficiently, and as he brushed he contemplated just what exactly it was that he wanted to teach Hope.

Proper posture in the yvas was the first thing, of course. They would go slow today, as she had asked, until Hope could guide Dainellas without help. He didn’t expect it to take long, at least not for a simple walk, and then they could move on to more exciting things. Like plants. He could teach her one or two, how to recognize them and what to do. Sage would be a good start. And yuca. There were also some clover flowers still growing here and there, so if they came across one of them that would be good, too.

He put away the currycomb and retrieved the soft brush. This time he moved in long, linear strokes, dispelling the dust that the first tool had brought to the surface and leaving his strider’s hide clean and even.

Perhaps he could begin with tracks, too. Nothing large or grandiose, but normal sights in the grasslands. Rabbit. Mouse. Maybe even coyote if they came across it. Just pointing out, this is rabbit, and this is what their feet look like. It wouldn’t be particularly useful to her at this stage, but it would be good for her to become familiar with the sheer diversity of life around her. One could not understand something until they first knew that it existed.

When Akaidras was brushed and clean, Shahar would put away the tools, then turn and wait for Hope. He wasn’t going to do the next step for her, like he had last time; if she was to ride like a Drykas, it was high time she learned how to put on an yvas.

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

Hope

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The woman's movements were by no means the ones of a well-seasoned rider. Even though she had had a horse for approximately two years before even being brought to the city of tents, she had never truly made an effort to care for the beast then. Food and water came as it did, and she would run her hand through the horse's mane, untangling the unruly hair. At best, she would brush away the mud from scabs, in the hopes that any injuries would heal better. It was interesting and fulfilling to learn how to truly care for a horse, and Hope took great pride and ownership in brushing Dainellas down properly.

A small laugh escaped Hope's lips as the little hunting cat sneezed, probably from all the dust that was being brushed away form the yellow mare's coat and towards Tuka. She apologised, still giggling, but she did not stop from her brushing movements, constantly following the natural way the hair fell as she scraped the dust and specks of mud away from the horse. A change in the sound of movement behind her alerted her to the fact that her guardian had already finished brushing his Strider down and she turned, incredulous. She had been here every day; Hope knew that Shahar had not brushed down his horse in the past few days... how had he worked so quickly?

Frowning, the pale girl turned back to her own horse and rushed to brush along the mare's flank, the last bit that Hope had to do. She didn't bother to work her way down the legs, nor did she consider using the hoof-pick to pick out dried mud and dirt (she highly doubted Shahar had done so in such a short period of time). But if she could get away with it, Hope would have preferred never to use the device again. She, too, returned the brushes she had been using, after which she noticed the Drykas' expectant expression.

She stared blankly at him for a minute, until he inclined his head towards the two waiting yvases (yves/yvasi/yvass?). Comprehension dawned on her and she reached down to select the smaller of the two. Less worn than the other one, this was the one she remembered from the last ride and she quickly glanced at Shaphar, seeking his approval, before she turned back towards the mare. First, she pulled out the pad which, much like a saddle she was used to, she flung over Daniellas' back and used her free hand to adjust it, smoothing out any creases that would chafe under the yvas. Then she hauled the yvas itself over to rest upon the mare's back and... her brow creased as she took a step back, analysing the image infront of her to work out where she had gone wrong.

Glancing behind her, Shahar was still watching her and had made no move to saddle Akaidras, presumably because he didn't want her getting hints. No, this was down to her. Ticks passed, and Dainellas waited patiently for Hope to realise her mistake, before it finally dawned on her that the yvas was on backwards. A ghost of an embarrassed smile flitted across her lips as she darted forwards and replaced the yvas properly. The following chimes were spent with Hope muddling through the straps, some of which were probably attached too tightly, or loosely... or even not attached to its correct counterpart. Eventually, however, she gave up and turned to allow Shahar to inspect her poor attempt.

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[Colt]

In due time, Hope had finished her brushing and had lain the tools back to their rest. She turned then, meeting Shahar’s gaze and remaining there for a moment with a blank mask of noncomprehension. When he tilted his head towards the leather contraptions, however, her expression quickly cleared, and she reached for the newer, less weathered one. The one she had used before. When she looked back to him, she would find approval, exactly written on his hands.

He remained still as she took the pad and slung it over Dainellas’ withers. From there, Hope took a moment to straighten the thing, and only then did she take hold of the yvas proper and sling it onto the mare.

Backwards.

Amusement found itself onto his face before he could stop it, and even Akaidras turned to regard the mare with a bemused eye. The stallion looked ready to stretch his neck to investigate that which he could sense was inherently incorrect, but Shahar placed a hand on the beast’s muzzle and restrained him. He knew that Hope could become uneasy around Akaidras.

Hope, too, seemed to sense that something was not right, and when she stepped back she examined the yvas to identify what that something was. She flicked a glance back at him, but he did nothing to encourage her. He simply stood and watched, stroking Akaidras’ nose and waiting. She would figure it out.

And figure it out she did. With a sheepish almost-smile, Hope turned the yvas around and set about to the straps and buckles that would secure the pad to Dainellas’ back, and Shahar took the opportunity to turn his attention back to his own strider. Up came the pad, fitted to Akaidras’ back with the familiarity of many rides worn, and on top of that came the yvas. A glance back at Hope revealed that she was having trouble with the actual securing of the leather pad, and he paused to observe. Within moments, Hope gave up entirely and turned back to him, allowing him to view her work.

Well, the yvas had stayed on, at least.

The girth strap had been correctly secured, though it was far too loose to use properly, but the breast collar, for all its hooks and attachments, was what seemed to be giving her trouble. Shahar nodded sympathetically; that was something it was easy to be confused by, and had given him his fair share of trouble when he and Akaidras had first begun riding.

Turning to the stallion in question, Shahar took hold of his own yvas’ breast collar and gestured for pay attention to this. He then pointed to its partnered buckle and threaded the leather through for Hope to see. With this done, he turned back to face the girl and mare; if she was still unsure about what it was she needed to do, he would help her, but first he wanted to see if she would to attempt it on her own.

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

Hope

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It was a lesson that Hope was slowly coming to learn about Shahar. He never deliberately set her up to fail, and most likely never would. She could relax and learn, safe in the knowledge that any mistakes that she made (of which there had been, and would be, many) would be corrected quickly and... if not kindly, then at least gently. Any rebukes would only come if Hope was deliberately negligent of her task. It was this knowledge of a safety net which afforded the captive the freedom to attempt things with confidence.

And, should she fail, someone was there to set her straight, and to show her how to do something properly. With her left hand resting on Dainellas' neck, Hope took a couple of steps forward, angling herself so that she could watch Shahar in fastening the yvas onto Akaidras. He started with the strap that would secure the device around the breast, and Hope quickly turned to release all of the buckles; he was going to give her a demonstration from the beginning. Though she left the girth strap fastened, knowing that, at the very least, she had not fastened it to the wrong buckle. Selecting the breast strap, she craned her head to confirm where Shahar had secured it to and was pleased to see that she had also been right in her pervious attempt. Reaching around the mare, she secured it back into place.

Out of habit, Hope pushed her fingers into the tight gap between the strap and the mare's body, to check how well fastened it was. “Other horse seat, what use in Syliras... must have room to move and breathe. Can...” she tugged on the strap with the hand as a visual demonstration for her guardian whilst she tried to conjure up the words from her slowly growing vocabulary. “Use hand... if strap pulls away, then know Dainellas has room?”

The Pavilion consisted of a rag-tag assortment of individuals, where none had a fluent language in common with any other. For all, they struggled to piece together conversations. But barriers struck deeper. Shahar was her gateway to learning the language of the Grasslands, yet he rarely spoke. What few utterances were shared he would emphasise to help Hope and Khida learn. But invariably he would pass company in silence, which hindered her absorption of the tongue.

Standing back, she guided Dainellas to turn slightly so that the Drykas would have a better vantage point to see her efforts. What she wanted to do was to approach Akaidras and place her hand under his breast strap - it was possibly the most effective way to learn this, to feel rather than to be told, but she would not approach the stallion without permission. And, even then, she would prefer to avoid contact with the much larger horse. “Tight, horse not run. Loose, Hope fall off.”

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