Tazrae was a bit disturbed that the man felt he had to ask permission for everything he did. She’d noticed it earlier and again when he asked to go to the beach. They’d need to talk about that, for certain, because the more time Tazrae spent with Puk the more she decided to feel a little bit responsible for his happiness. It was actually a good feeling, for he didn’t stare at her like he was judging the width of her hips and if she’d make a good broodmare like Akalak men tended to do. He didn’t seem to see her that way at all. She noted that he looked to her for clues and guidance in the new settlement which was a bit amusing for she was muddling her way through navigating this society all on her own as it was. Muddling… not succeeding or failing… just a lot of trial and error. But the mark under her left wrist – the Guardian Symbol – was something she took seriously. Was Puk a first challenge? Tazrae didn’t know.
What she did know was that she liked him. He was big and gentle and the energy around him was settled, stoic, and steady. He’d never be a fast man, a sweet talker, or someone that sold snake oil remedies. He felt almost ‘of the earth’…. What was the phrase her father used to say? Salt of the Earth? She hadn’t really understood the concept, but the longer she was in Puk’s company the more clear the old saying became. He’d never mind her trying to feed him, which was one of the things that comforted Tazrae no matter how upset she got. And truth be told, she got lonely and upset a lot when no guests were around and there was nothing to nurture. And she hoped that even though she had guests tonight, Puk would feel welcome here and come around often. The rudeness of the Alakak hadn’t seemed to phase him, even though it angered her.
His story had big gaps in it. She noted that immediately on how he started and stopped in his response to her question on the necklace. And it made her reach out as he was talking, and gently pet his unruly hair. She stroked his head, on tippy toe, like she’d sooth Creech when the pup was nervous or upset. Puk had a ‘before’ in his life. And he had an ‘after’ in his life. It was the event that occurred which delineated his life that she wondered about. Now wasn’t the time to ask about it. Nor did Tazrae really need to know. Her curiosity didn’t trump his need for privacy and she understood that well. She had no right to ask and did not. But sometime soon, hopefully, he’d feel better enough about his life and himself to speak of it. Tazrae knew how he felt. Some wounds were hidden and didn’t leave big bruises on the skin or deep cuts that festered in the flesh. Some wounds were invisible and left on the soul.
She watched what he ate and realized immediately that the man was a vegetarian even though he choked down the chops. Tazrae smiled at this because she knew a great many dishes that didn’t involve meat but she could make for him easily. She never got to stretch her culinary wings because the Akalaks were heavy meat eaters and most of the diet on Syka involved hunting and big game. Thinking deeper on it, she should have realized that Puk wouldn’t like the flesh of other creatures. He was a Tskana, right? A huge cousin of the gentle little ashtas. She should have known…. Tazrae thought, shaking her head. She would never offer him meat again. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get good food. He would. She’d see to it.
The deck cleared off after the meal. The guests were off to do evening things in the Settlement or retired to their rooms to relax and unwind. Some went to walk the beach. Tazrae thought her job must be the best in the world because all she really had to do to serve the guests was keep their rooms clean and cook for them two to three times a day. And she realized as the Inn got more popular, she’d have to cut out the lunch and just offer two meals a day or perhaps a packed lunch for jungle adventures.
“Thank you for telling me. I enjoy cooking other things besides meat. I’ll enjoy making you things with no meat. Now that I know, it’s an easy thing to do.” She said, reaching over to pat his arm. Creech circled her feet and she scratched him. Tazrae avoided handling the Imperial Watcher when she was cooking or interacting with the guests, and the dog was used to turning his attention to visiting children or simply hanging off to the side watching the meals that tended to happen. When those times were over though, the dog slunk closer and tended to not let Tazrae out of his sight.
Taz listened to his story and nodded. So he was treated like some second class citizen. She knew that’s how Riverfall treated their Kelvics as well. “In Riverfall, people treated Kelvics as pets. You would probably be considered on the same level as Creature in terms of the pecking order. But Puk, this isn’t Riverfall or Taloba. This is Syka. Has anyone told you that here your life and your needs are just as important as everyone elses? Has anyone said you are welcome everywhere and that you don’t need permission to go to the beach or the commons or to go anywhere really? All you have to do is follow the same rules the rest of us follow and they are pretty easy. You respect others and their property, and they will respect you and your property. All that means is that you treat everyone nicely and they should treat you the same way. That Akalak man at dinner isn’t someone from here. He thinks this place is still Riverfall. It is not. You could have sat with them if you wanted. He has no right to tell you no. In fact, he’s a visitor here and you are a resident… so if anyone has more right to the table, it is you.” Tazrae explained quietly.
She matched his strengthened smile as he told her she moved his bed to better see the stars.
Taz laughed in delight about his story of the butterflies. “That sounds magical.” She said softly, as they stared out at the water and he talked more.
But as to his question, Tazrae shook her head. “I don’t know how to sing well, yet. I’m in fact kind of horrible at it. But I’m having lessons from my friend Xander. He is a bard and is a great singer. I don’t think I should teach you how to sing because I don’t know enough, but you can share lessons with me and learn from him?” She suggested, hopeful. Company in her singing lessons would be amazing. Xander was kind of a tyrant about . “Or we can sing together and just practice being terrible together where no one can hear us.” She suggested, her lips wide. Puk made her smile, a lot, and it wasn’t something she was used to doing. He felt like someone she could be friends with without expectations. That was a nice feeling, especially since she didn’t have a good track record with males in her life. Her father had been her hero, but he’d died way to young. She missed him. He had the same aura of gentleness that Puk had. Perhaps that was why she was warming to the young kelvic so fast.
Tazrae leaned further back in her chair and stretched, smiling slightly. “I’m glad you are here. But Puk, I would really like to hear about that thing…. The thing you don’t talk about. You have a before life… with that Taloba woman, Grau… then something happened. Then you have the after life… the now life. What happened, Puk?” She asked softly, turning to look at him with her sea blue eyes. “Its something hurtful within you. You should talk about it, tell someone, let it out. Because if you hold it inside and never talk about it, its like a wound that needs to be opened to the world to air out and heal. I think you deserve to heal from whatever it was that happened.” She added quietly, still watching him.
What she did know was that she liked him. He was big and gentle and the energy around him was settled, stoic, and steady. He’d never be a fast man, a sweet talker, or someone that sold snake oil remedies. He felt almost ‘of the earth’…. What was the phrase her father used to say? Salt of the Earth? She hadn’t really understood the concept, but the longer she was in Puk’s company the more clear the old saying became. He’d never mind her trying to feed him, which was one of the things that comforted Tazrae no matter how upset she got. And truth be told, she got lonely and upset a lot when no guests were around and there was nothing to nurture. And she hoped that even though she had guests tonight, Puk would feel welcome here and come around often. The rudeness of the Alakak hadn’t seemed to phase him, even though it angered her.
His story had big gaps in it. She noted that immediately on how he started and stopped in his response to her question on the necklace. And it made her reach out as he was talking, and gently pet his unruly hair. She stroked his head, on tippy toe, like she’d sooth Creech when the pup was nervous or upset. Puk had a ‘before’ in his life. And he had an ‘after’ in his life. It was the event that occurred which delineated his life that she wondered about. Now wasn’t the time to ask about it. Nor did Tazrae really need to know. Her curiosity didn’t trump his need for privacy and she understood that well. She had no right to ask and did not. But sometime soon, hopefully, he’d feel better enough about his life and himself to speak of it. Tazrae knew how he felt. Some wounds were hidden and didn’t leave big bruises on the skin or deep cuts that festered in the flesh. Some wounds were invisible and left on the soul.
She watched what he ate and realized immediately that the man was a vegetarian even though he choked down the chops. Tazrae smiled at this because she knew a great many dishes that didn’t involve meat but she could make for him easily. She never got to stretch her culinary wings because the Akalaks were heavy meat eaters and most of the diet on Syka involved hunting and big game. Thinking deeper on it, she should have realized that Puk wouldn’t like the flesh of other creatures. He was a Tskana, right? A huge cousin of the gentle little ashtas. She should have known…. Tazrae thought, shaking her head. She would never offer him meat again. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get good food. He would. She’d see to it.
The deck cleared off after the meal. The guests were off to do evening things in the Settlement or retired to their rooms to relax and unwind. Some went to walk the beach. Tazrae thought her job must be the best in the world because all she really had to do to serve the guests was keep their rooms clean and cook for them two to three times a day. And she realized as the Inn got more popular, she’d have to cut out the lunch and just offer two meals a day or perhaps a packed lunch for jungle adventures.
“Thank you for telling me. I enjoy cooking other things besides meat. I’ll enjoy making you things with no meat. Now that I know, it’s an easy thing to do.” She said, reaching over to pat his arm. Creech circled her feet and she scratched him. Tazrae avoided handling the Imperial Watcher when she was cooking or interacting with the guests, and the dog was used to turning his attention to visiting children or simply hanging off to the side watching the meals that tended to happen. When those times were over though, the dog slunk closer and tended to not let Tazrae out of his sight.
Taz listened to his story and nodded. So he was treated like some second class citizen. She knew that’s how Riverfall treated their Kelvics as well. “In Riverfall, people treated Kelvics as pets. You would probably be considered on the same level as Creature in terms of the pecking order. But Puk, this isn’t Riverfall or Taloba. This is Syka. Has anyone told you that here your life and your needs are just as important as everyone elses? Has anyone said you are welcome everywhere and that you don’t need permission to go to the beach or the commons or to go anywhere really? All you have to do is follow the same rules the rest of us follow and they are pretty easy. You respect others and their property, and they will respect you and your property. All that means is that you treat everyone nicely and they should treat you the same way. That Akalak man at dinner isn’t someone from here. He thinks this place is still Riverfall. It is not. You could have sat with them if you wanted. He has no right to tell you no. In fact, he’s a visitor here and you are a resident… so if anyone has more right to the table, it is you.” Tazrae explained quietly.
She matched his strengthened smile as he told her she moved his bed to better see the stars.
Taz laughed in delight about his story of the butterflies. “That sounds magical.” She said softly, as they stared out at the water and he talked more.
But as to his question, Tazrae shook her head. “I don’t know how to sing well, yet. I’m in fact kind of horrible at it. But I’m having lessons from my friend Xander. He is a bard and is a great singer. I don’t think I should teach you how to sing because I don’t know enough, but you can share lessons with me and learn from him?” She suggested, hopeful. Company in her singing lessons would be amazing. Xander was kind of a tyrant about . “Or we can sing together and just practice being terrible together where no one can hear us.” She suggested, her lips wide. Puk made her smile, a lot, and it wasn’t something she was used to doing. He felt like someone she could be friends with without expectations. That was a nice feeling, especially since she didn’t have a good track record with males in her life. Her father had been her hero, but he’d died way to young. She missed him. He had the same aura of gentleness that Puk had. Perhaps that was why she was warming to the young kelvic so fast.
Tazrae leaned further back in her chair and stretched, smiling slightly. “I’m glad you are here. But Puk, I would really like to hear about that thing…. The thing you don’t talk about. You have a before life… with that Taloba woman, Grau… then something happened. Then you have the after life… the now life. What happened, Puk?” She asked softly, turning to look at him with her sea blue eyes. “Its something hurtful within you. You should talk about it, tell someone, let it out. Because if you hold it inside and never talk about it, its like a wound that needs to be opened to the world to air out and heal. I think you deserve to heal from whatever it was that happened.” She added quietly, still watching him.