Stranger in a Strange Land (Ha'na & Sam)

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

34th Spring, 510 A.V.

The young man did his fair share of wandering. It didn't suit his nerves to leave his horse and his camp, off the beaten track and hidden as they tended to be. And so, like the nomad he used to be, he packed up everything and wandered around town with Horse. It was his manner with the animal, who was as close to him as a human brother would be, that might give him away as a Drykas-errant. Otherwise, the signs were hidden: windmark covered by a leather cuff, braids long since shorn.

Horse ambled good-naturedly, at least for the time being. Sam's muscles moved in time with Horse's, having learned to ride not long after learning to walk. He didn't think, but let Horse guide their path, until he saw the little collection of pottery for sale in front of a cottage no different from its neighbors.

It reminded him of traders on the edge of the Sea of Grass come to trade in good faith, unlike certain others on the Syliras side of the Sea. With happy phantom memories flickering through him like leaves falling through a shaft of sunlight, he gave Horse an invisible signal to pause.

"Ho, lady," he greeted quietly, then slithered off Horse's back to get a closer look at her wares.

[Hana]

She looked up from the wedge of clay she’d been so focused on getting the air out of, blue eyes widening momentarily at the sight of the visitor she had. There was a time and a place where the ability to let her mind wander would have been a welcome thing, but the possibility of it now scared her. She shook off the thought while smiling.

Tall young man. Tall horse. She cataloged the facts away as she wiped her hands off on her gown and stood up from the chair that threatened from time-to-time to wobble.

She wasn’t good at hiding the fact that she was Benshira. Though her clothes were more of a Syliras fashion, there was still something foreign there. It might have just been the way she belted her gown or the way she wore the sleeves looser than most women. Her hair was clearly dark and long despite being coiled up tightly onto the back of her head. Her skin was still beautifully warm as if she’d been out in the desert just hours before. But more than anything, the color of her eyes gave away her people – Brilliant blue like a summer afternoon or a calm sea.

The smile she gave was friendly enough as she stepped over to her trunk of wares, and she hid her marked hands behind her back.

“Sir,” she said softly, her voice sweeter than honey.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"These are beautiful," he said, a little wistfully.

Delicate things existed in a Drykas pavilion, but he had only Horse and he wasn't sure he could keep any of her treasures safe and sound in his travels. There was also the fact that he only spent on useful things, but that didn't stop him from craving beauty.

No poet, nor possessed of any great sense of aesthetics for anything other than horses, he couldn't really describe the artistry of her work to properly praise it, but the flowing lines recalled him of a little horse figure his father had given him forever ago. It too was lost.

He smiled in order to keep his composure. Too often of late it seemed ready to crumble at a moment's notice.

[Hana]

"Thank you," she replied, leaning down to pick up a pitcher. She pointed to the scene of a man with his horses on it. Perhaps it was a memory of something she'd seen in her travels. Perhaps not. "Here, this one... It looks like your horse, yes?"

Her eyebrows lifted up as she peered at him hopefully. The day had been long and her plans for the day failing.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"It does," he agreed, glancing between the windrunner and the painted vessel.

He didn't let his hands wander for fear that he wouldn't be able to let go of something, but his eyes eventually lit on more utilitarian, sealed vessels.

"What is this? Honey?"

[Hana]

She paused, looking to the jar he was speaking of. She nodded. "Yes, it is. Without comb. I have a small hive that I tend to."

She leaned down, putting the pitcher away. Another jar of honey was opened and offered to him for inspection. "Taste if you'd like."

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

He met her eyes briefly to be sure she meant what she said. There was something exotic about her beauty, and the corner of his mouth twitched a bit as if warning of an impending smile as he dipped his pinky into the honey and then tasted it. Here was another luxury, but one he might possibly be able to purchase, persuading himself that it was a treat for Horse. Mostly.

Offering Horse his pinky once he had tasted it, the tame beast gave his finger a swipe. Sam wiped it off on his ratty homespun.

"How much, please?"

[Hana]

She seemed to consider this. No one had ever actually wanted to buy her honey. She looked from the jar to him and then back to the jar. Though she wasn't that good at gauging a person, she guessed that he wasn't the type to play in the fine art of haggling.

She shrugged, moving to wave about a clay-covered hand. Finally she said, "I would say... One silver for one pint? Or something of equal value."

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

He considered this. Bargaining wasn't really his specialty.

"One silver. That seems fair."

He fished out a coin and placed it on her makeshift table.

"If I come back another time, I might have meat or furs or something to trade. Would that interest you?"

[Hana]

The coin was picked up and pocketed away quickly. She nodded, selecting another jar to hold out to him. This one, with downright whimsy, she'd painted a little flower onto. It was nothing elaborate, but she thought it a little bonus for his money.

"Yes, I'm always happy to barter for such things." On an afterthought she introduced herself, "I'm Ha'na. This is my home."

She pointed back to the modest cottage that looked like every other cottage around her.