by Zaira on October 8th, 2009, 9:20 pm
She, was not sure how she felt about this newfound knowledge of her companion. It was strange to try and think of herself no longer subjected by the laws of her people, for who would be near to cast judgment. Yet tradition, still, marked her behavior despite the bucking youth. And even now guided her words.
Truly, would it matter if her companion was married with children and a wife awaiting his return? It, did, oddly, but it was not the case and thoughts were left to fall as they chose in her mind. For a moment silence fell before Abashai broke the silence of his strumming once more, his voice weaving through the notes to speak.
His words through, made the young woman frown slightly. It was such an, archaic view. A lifestyle can change, a tent could be made, gained with any union. All that was needed was love, true love that made a person what to be with another person, share their joys and sorrows, and all the time they had in the world, together.
<”We truly need to find you new women to speak with.”> Was all the young woman said on the matter, with the tinge of something else snatched upon the wind. Perhaps it was best as she shook her head. For another moment silence fell and the music Abashai’s fingers made before he spoke once again. His words made her smile as she slowly stood and shook the sand from her clothes before she smiled at the man beside the fire.
<”Why would I turn my back upon path laid at my feet by a most generous provider? Any other nomad tribe surely would have taken me. Those who cared for me when I could not care for myself offered me place in their tents. I simply choose to follow where our lord sees fit to lead me.”> Her smile was easy this time before looking towards her horse, pack, and the body of water.
<”Forgiveness, my friend. I shall return, I simply wish to make use of the water and night while they, and we are here.”> The woman turned away going to the horse that made soft noises as the human neared. Zaira seemed to have indeed wakened from the slumber that had made her once appear like a specter.
Careful steps, and steady hands pulled out and began the setting up of her tent, it’s entrance bathed in the light from the fire. Bringing her things in, she appeared once again with a small bundle and turning to Natlick the woman and horse circled around the water past the light and barely within sight.
Out of sight from the man who gave her fire and music, the dancer shed her clothing and from the oasis drew water in a bag. Walking away from the waters edge Zaira held the leaking bag above her head letting the streaming water wet her hair, make paths down her face, neck and chest. Wash away the grit of sand, the burn of the winds, and her swirling thoughts. She did this three more times until she felt clean, and cool finally, no longer her blood running hot, or the thoughts of her mind swirling, silenced, washed away by cool waters.
<In the desert, on the cool sands
The sun does brightly shine
Purple morning, amber warning,
Before the sun does rise.
Hear the whisper of the breeze,
Feel the touch of the sky
See the trails and my tail
As the she goat goes bleating by.
High above us, in the heavens,
The sun does brightly shine,
Growing cactus, and grass before us
As we play and sing this rhyme
In the desert, on the cool sands
The sun does brightly shine
Purple morning, amber warning,
Before the sun does rise.
Growing shadows, golden skies
As the fires crack and sing
Smell the wood burn, hear my mother
And all the others as they sing
Tasty grass, and cool sweet water
And the fields where we can roam
It is sandy, but who can complain,
Of the beauty of our home.
Hear the goat song,
And the wind beat
And see the sun so bright and warm
Paint us pictures like no other, t
To keep us smiling till the dawn."> *sung to the tune of 'oh my darling Clementine'
She sang, that silly child's song, amusement, surprised herself that she could remember the words, and more so to, oddly perhaps ease the worry and at least let Abashai aware of where she was in the dark, with only her horse to shield her. And hopefully keep anything else sulking in the night away.
The dancer returned damp and very alert, wet hair braided down her back. Her abaya was on once more, masking the fact she wore less that before her bundled and placed within the tent. Zaira paused upon the entrance of her tent to bid Abashai a good night, her words like and eyes fleeting, from the man, back to the flames before she disappeared within her tent. More surely was to come in the morrow.