The tension that had showed clearly in the tightening of Ari's shoulders and fists a moment ago had begun to fade a bit. She was gladdened to know that there were no others in the grove – if Aman was telling the truth. If he wasn't, he was a particularly good liar, because she could hear no insincerity in his voice. He sounded genuinely concerned that the Chaktawe had it out for him. And if the Chaktawe weren't fond of him, that almost certainly meant he wasn't a guardian of Eywaat. Such a man would be held in high regard in their culture.
“What, the Chaktawe aren't partial to...you?” She had almost said your kind, but still didn't know nearly enough about these shifters to go lumping them into categories and kinds. After all, she had never seen anyone who had such powers before, and now she had met two of them in as many weeks. Strange, indeed.
“Aren't you lonely, living here alone?” Raziel asked, speaking for the first time. He glanced at the man, eyes questioning. “With no one to talk to?” At least when he and Ari'al had wandered the desert, they had had each other's company to keep themselves sane. No wonder he attacked us when he first saw us, she thought. If I'd been alone since last Autumn, I'd probably have done the same thing.
They had reached the water's edge at last, and it was a magnificent sight indeed: one of the biggest oases she had ever laid eyes on, with water like silk that reflected the clear blue of the sky. A slight breeze rustled the crimson leaves lining its edge, bringing to her nose a potent floral scent from the foliage. As she gazed down at the water, a twinned set of jade-green eyes stared back up at her. She could understand why the Tatsuwaat held the Keerdash grove in such high regard; such a flush of fertile growth, when for miles around in every direction there was nothing but shifting sand dunes, was no doubt holy indeed. With one last look at Aman, who still had not produced a knife and slit their throats, or shifted back to his mongoose form and torn them limb from limb, she knelt by the water and uncapped her waterskin. Aman was right, a delicious drink of cool water would soothe her dry throat...however, though she might be filling her waterskin as he had told them to do, she would not drink from it unless the shifter provided more of an explanation of his background. Although she had been put partially at ease, she still had a fundamental distrust of anything that could change its form in such a manner.