[Kulkukan/Bastani]She's a Lady - Aren

[Meera]

"Hmm?" She made a noise then, a questioning noise. It was still pleasant, as she was enjoying their stroll to the sweet shop. Meera couldn't remember the name of the store, but she remembered the jovial clerk that Aren was friends with. Olak, maybe, was his name, she did her best to remember.

"Will try what? To get own braid? Is not needed." She consoled. The image of Aren with a braid made her face scrunch up as though displeased and humoured at the same time.

"Not Drykas, same as me." By all accounts Meera herself was not a Drykas either. Not until she got her windmark. The blonde suppressed a sigh of disappointment and impatience at herself for that.
"No need for braid. Long braid will get in way of, ... what is word..." She made the swooping gesture with her free hand. Meera hated these moments the most - when she knew the word but could not think of it. The woman still had much to learn from Aren's speech, that was for sure. Meera thought she sounded unintelligent when she stumbled in her Common, but she had heard many others fluent in the language stumble over their speech enough to not let it bother her too much.
"Scythe." She said, finally remembering the word. "If you have braid, scythe will cut. Would need braid in bun like me!"

[Aren]

"Not same," Aren mumbled, aware of the fact that Meera did not regard herself as a drykas, and clearly bothered by it. He could tell how much it hurt her, and it killed him that there wasn't much he was able to do about that. So, he resolved to keep telling her that she was, in the hopes that maybe one day she'd believe him. As the drykas pointed out, a long braid would get in the way of handling his scythe, and when she mentioned braiding his hair in a bun, Aren grimaced, clearly disturbed by image. The thought, however, made him wonder if Meera's neck was stronger than usual, by virtue of having to balance the additional load. Of course, he immediately dismissed the idea as rubbish. "What about a short braid?" the akalak asked, with a smile, demonstrating that he was not entirely opposed to the idea of braiding. Suddenly, he started to smell something in the air. As he closed his eyes to better concentrate on the scent, he quickly found he recognized it. It wasn't as strong as it normally was, so the bakery must have been seeing limited operation, but at least it was up and running. Still, Aren did not quicken his pace, which was the reaction that the smell exuding from Bastani's would normally provoke. He was enjoying the walk with Meera, enjoying holding her hand and hearing her tell him of her people and their customs... even if he didn't particularly approve of some of them.

[Meera]

"Yes, same." She reiterated with a firmer voice than she had been using since wearing the dress. It became conscious to her that she had even begun speaking softer, as though she didn't have to compensate for her feminine shortcomings by being brash or crass, or more masculine than she was. It appeared obvious that dressing in a more feminine style made her more feminine. She did not approve of this change and now wearing the dress disturbed her greatly. Was she so weak-willed?

"No braids, Aren," she stipulated. "Braids on Akalak warrior would look... strange." She offered the truth to him, feeling little need to hide it.
"Even on short hair like you." Had Meera thought about what she said, she could have pieced together the fact that she had all but denied Aren a braid for almost the same reasons - though not voiced - as her elders had tried to deny hers. Had she made the connection she would have revoked her statement and issued forth a new one, one that allowed him as many tiny braids as he wished.

"Like you way you are." She rephrased, almost mentally checking herself without realizing it. What she had spoken, back in her softer voice, was ultimately the truest statement she could speak. Imagining Aren with braids would look rather out of sorts. Aren was simply himself, and she couldn't imagine him any other way. He was cocky, sure of himself and constantly in a grin. Her cheeks bloomed like spring flowers with red colouring as she thought more and more about her suitor, regarding the Spring day with a curious eye as well. Their town had lost so much, and yet, Meera feared, that they were likely not the worst of Mizahar. At least, she was grateful to find, the Night Tower was still standing. The Drykas was long overdue to proper homage and worship, soon she should make a tribute.

Having her thought noted in the back of her head, she took in the smell of Riverfall, faintly detecting the scent of freshly baked bread and sugar. It appeared that Aren's favourite place in Riverfall was still standing. That was good news for him.

It struck her then that she had not thought of her own home city, Endrykas. How did her people fare in the Sea of Grass?
Meera bit her lip at the thought, images of her people lay wasted on the grassy plains, or hidden underground. The woman wondered to the status of Patros and how he had survived the storm - if he had warning like Meera had. What if the only man that had ever loved her - cared for her like a father would his daughter - had died?

"..." Her mouth fell open then and she could not issue a sound. Her steps faltered and she stalled, holding Aren back.

How poor of a child was she that she had no thought to Patros and her clan's wellbeing during such a turmultuous time? She would have to leave again. Tomorrow, she decided. She wouldn't be gone long, she knew. It was hardly worth the effort telling Aren. But Meera had to know how her city was faring, and if she could decipher it, if Patros had survived.

Instantly realizing Meera had halted her stride now, she resumed her stroll beside Aren, her smile returning to avoid an altercation with the Akalak, especially publicly. She feinted smelling the air, enjoying the scents of sweets and pastries in the area.
"Smells good. Wonder if he has any of those Heads yet for you?"

[Aren]

Aren did not press as she insisted on her statement. This was a work in progress, he figured, but he wasn't going to surrender that easily. If he hadn't given up on Meera when she rode out into the sea of grass on a strider, leaving nary a clue, he certainly wasn't about to give up now. Still, Aren knew that every battle had it's time and it's place, so he wasn't going to press the issue further, for now. The akalak smirked at her response on the subject of his suggested braids, "You're probably right," he said, conceding the fact that he'd look weird with a braid. "Of course you do. I'm perfect in every way," Aren commented, sounding as confident as Wysar himself, strolling through the streets of Riverfall. The claim that he was perfect was clearly not said in earnest, but one would be hard pressed to tell from the self satisfied smug he currently presented. Suddenly, the blue skinned giant felt as Meera stopped in her tracks. No longer at his side, Aren looked back to see the drykas mouth agape, and her body frozen in it's tracks. As quickly as the event came, however, it passed, and she was soon strolling alongside him as if she had merely swallowed a fly, or some such. "She's plottin' on you..." Seros offered, grinning wickedly in the recesses of Aren's mind, almost like he had been expecting this all along. Aren, for his part, did not think she was planning to kill him in his sleep or anything, but certainly got the feeling that she was hiding something. The akalak merely returned her smile as they continued their walk, but his was a hollow one, created by the instinct to reassure her that he hadn't noticed anything. "I'm sure he will," the still smiling Aren swiftly replied, yet his words were as meaningless as his smile, meant only to conceal what he was really thinking.

[Meera]

It was better to say sorry than ask permission, Meera thought. Doing her best to push out her plan to leave - tomorrow after the second bout of training - out of her head, she squeezed Aren's hand gently and gave it a small tug so he would look at her. The Drykas displayed a very pretty smile and she pushed herself on her tiptoes mid step to kiss his cheek. He would still have to bend down for it, though.

"Are not too sad over town?" She had tried and tried to press him about his past and he had shared little. Thinking about it, she grew suspicious - not of Aren's current intentions, but what he was running from and what he was hiding. Meera shared with Aren all of her secrets and her history, and yet she knew so little about this blue man.

"You in no rush for sweets, hmm? Tell me what you were as child. Please? You talk so little about father and mother."

[Aren]

Aren bent to receive Meera's kiss, and his smile grew more genuine. Still, if the drykas thought she was going to distract him with prettiness and soft touches... she was absolutely correct. "My people have endured worse than a little djed storm. Besides, Riverfall is just a collection of buildings; if it were all destroyed, it would simply be rebuilt anew. It wouldn't even be the first time..." the akalak mused on why he wasn't very preoccupied or otherwise concerned by the status of Riverfall. In the Valterrian, their old city had sunk right into the sea, yet his kind had endured, so why should he be worried now? The subject of Aren's childhood was no big secret, and he did not talk about it much simply because he did not think it worth mentioning unless something relevant came up, "There's not much to tell, really. I did things children did, like play pranks and annoy people. Mostly I trained with my mother or my father, in preparation for the various rites I was expected to undertake," he said, not demonstrating any particular emotion as he relayed a summary of what he considered his childhood. "My mother is dead, my father... is not," here, however, Aren's feelings seemed to flash, for a second. The wording was peculiar as well, as he mentioned, not that his father was alive, but that he was not dead. Clearly, however, the matter was not one the akalak enjoyed talking about, as his eyes moved away from Meera and locked on to a far away spot. Aren had to consciously prevent every muscle in his body from tightening, but he could not hide every unconscious clue that told the drykas that this was not a subject he was keen on discussing.

[Meera]

Thankfully for Aren, he would not have to discuss the status of his relationship with his father. At Aren's mention of rites, Meera definitely required clarification.
Meera nodded as he spoke, and wanted to press further on Aren's indifference to Riverfall, and how he could hold little sentiment with the town. Meera had grown up part-time in Endrykas and she still held some sentimental emotion towards it.

"Rights? What? Parents mean to give you correct?" She asked, believing the word to mean "correct", and if that was the case, Aren's sentence made no sense whatsoever. Meera's brow furrowed and knitted together deep in her outright confusion.

OOC: Sorry, I don't know how to to do the coding... I'm moving this weekend! I will likely not be able to post until earliest 24hrs from now, latest 48 hrs from now. Sorry my post is so short, but aside from her questioning the wording and hopefully prompting more of the Akalak history, I have little else to give you... I'm sorry it's so poor. See you in a few days~ <3 Meera

[Aren]

Aren corked his head to the side, giving Meera a bit of a quizzical look. After after a few seconds, however, he seemed to understand what it was that she was asking. "Rites... as in rituals," the akalak explained, with a bit of chuckle. "Going through these rituals changed my place in akalak society, like a windmark would amongst the drykas," Aren concluded, borrowing a similar event from her culture to better help her understand. Suddenly, as he thought about it, the akalak believed that making the comparison might have been a mistake, reminding Meera of something she didn't need to be reminded of. "Then, one day I left Riverfall, and the further behind I left it the more I realized that each rite had been more meaningless than the last," Aren was all of a sudden somewhere else, reaching back decades now, yet he had never shared this particular story with anyone. He had told many tales over the years, some his own, some he had only heard, but this one was a personal one. It was one he had never found the need to convey, yet here he was, thinking about telling Meera. Perhaps it was because if he told her, he could try and fool himself into believing that he had truly shared himself with her. Perhaps, though, he simply wanted her to know. "I'm not a very good akalak, you know..." Aren muttered, almost like the words brought a sense of shame merely by speaking them. "I've never agreed with some of the things my people believe, and it wasn't easy on my family," his eyes kissed the ground as he told the story. It was obvious that the mere recollection of those events hurt him, even after so long. Aren's voice was a mixture of anger, regret... and sadness, "Why am I telling you this, when there's better things we could be doing?" without warning, however, the akalak returned to the here and now. He tried to smile, to show Meera what he was going to say wasn't very important, but his eyes told a different story. They seemed to have been trapped there, in the past, for just an instant, before they settled on the drykas' rosy cheeks. Good LuckHeh, don't worry about posting length, and good luck with your move. I'll catch you on the flip side.

[Meera]

Meera nodded as she listened, marking his explanation in her memory. She was listening intently, trying her best to know more about Aren as much as she possibly could. She couldn't understand why he would say she was a Drykas when she had not gone through her own rites successfully. The story she expected of him saying he left Riverfall was summed up into one measley sentence. Meera expected reasons why he left Riverfall, not confirmation that he had.

"What no agree with?" She asked harmlessly, wanting to know more and more about her suitor as though he were an obsession. She ignored his small plea to stop talking about his past. He wouldn't get away from it so easily.

[Aren]

"It doesn't matter," Aren whispered, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to discuss the matter further. The akalak understood the drykas' curiosity; it was the same curiosity he had towards her, but fifty years was a long time for someone to bear a burden. After a while, it becomes part of you, it starts to define who you are. Aren tried to smile, to reassure Meera that it really didn't matter, that it wasn't important, "Wouldn't you rather have some sweets, anyway?" he said, trying to move off the topic he himself had foolishly begun. There were just too many bad memories, too many ugly emotions. Aren didn't want his time with Meera to be soured by such things, so he would keep them to himself, at least for now. "Severed heads... hmmmmm," the akalak tried to distract her much like one would distract a child: by making funny noises and tempting her with something. Aren himself did not know that if the drykas decided to push, if he would be able to keep from finishing what he had started. He wanted to tell her, yet he didn't, all at the same time.