Closed Things Left Unsaid [Shahar]

[Naiya]

She saw her postures echoed in his own body, and regretted immediately the change in him. She shook her head a strong negative as she pulled in a deep breath, not quite smoothly but she held it there long enough to steady herself some.

His hands halfway extended towards her and she reached for him, her hand closing around his. Her grip was tight, if not quite painful, both seeking and giving comfort.

With the simple action much of her struggle lessened, and she used her now free hand to sign Shock, great surprise, nervous, embarrassed, require a moment. Beyond that she continued, offering apology, reassurance, no harm.

The tension that had hung between them seemed shattered with the touch, and yet, another weight fell, different than the first. Less nervous, more purposeful, she wasn't entirely sure that it was a good thing, charging even the air she breathed, but less panic inducing at the same time.

She gathered herself, drawing strength from the aid his proximity offered. Heart no longer raced so quickly, her breathing steadied some, but still there was something - not quite normal in the feel - as though something in her had changed, had charged itself with the nervous energy.

She needed to explain, but she didn't have to tell him everything, didn't need to chase him away so quickly. "I am unaccustomed to such," She searched for the words, reverting to sign and its many words who's meanings could be shaped into something more, Kindness, selfless giving. She gestured expansively, calling to her words the sense of overwhelming disbelief, gratitude, and pleasure.

[Colt]

She reached for his hand, something that was also somewhat unexpected, but he suppressed his surprise as her fingers closed around his. Electricity shot up his arm, but that, too, was something to be overcome; she needed him to stay as he was, to accept her hand until such a time as she wished to leave it. There was strength in her grip, but it was not to the point of injury.

She was shocked, surprised, although whether it was at his actions or her own Shahar had no idea. She required a moment, and so he remained there, moving neither closer nor farther. There was an apology on her free hand, followed by reassurance of her well-being.

Shahar slowly closed his hand around hers properly, moving to something more than simply standing and letting her do what she needed.

Relief, apology unnecessary.

“I am unaccustomed to such…” kindness, selfless giving.

Shahar’s posture of why? came over him before he had the mind to halt it. It had never occurred to him that someone should lack what to him was as normal as breathing or sleeping; there was never a why with providing help when it was needed––the idea that Rue should be unaccustomed to kindness was baffling to him.

[Naiya]

Her posture loosened in a subtle way as his hand closed around hers, a subconscious fear of rejection soothed by his light touch. Her grasp relaxed, becoming a touch of want rather than one seeking aid.

'Why?' There was no voice to his question, just movement, shape, and an understanding that her words had baffled him. She grew embarrassed her gaze falling to their clasped hands, but she managed to keep from hiding herself in her hair, almost afraid that if she lost sight of him now - after all this - that she would find she had imagined the entire encounter.

My family, she began, her signing only slightly hampered by her grip on his hand, I am often not what they wished I would be. That wasn't an answer to his question though, so she took a moment to gather her thoughts before she continued.

Kindness is not something afforded to something that brings only disappointment. Why give when you receive nothing in return? She was ashamed to find that her eyes filled with moisture, and she blinked rapidly to push back the tears before they could fall.

She was too on edge, too full of emotion, she needed to go to move, but she didn't wish to leave Shahar behind.

Her posture shaped a question easily denied, not to cause discomfort if a negative response was given. [i]I...[i/] She began to sign but changed her mind, hoping her light tone would serve her better than signing,

"Would you like to join me in attending the mass prayers? Or we could go on a walk?" She cast her gaze out the open door, noting the growing dark, the lighting of lamps, and the empty storefronts. "I need to see to the hide, and close the shop, but if you want to stay..?" She let the invitation hang in the air, unsure of the next steps, or even how she would do the things she spoke of if he left her to do them alone.

[Colt]

Her response to his question was just as mystifying as the statement that had prompted it. Wanting someone else to be like something in particular was just not how things should be done, and he told her so.

But that is incorrect to do, Shahar said. There wasn’t any aggression, simply factual confusion, as if Rue had told him that the sky was purple. Disappointment why? Act in incorrectness, then always disappointed. Foolish action, to be disappointed in you.

She sounded like she had a strange family.

I…

Shahar refocused his attention on Rue’s signs, then on her words.

“Would you like to join me in attending the mass prayers?” she asked. “Or we could go on a walk?”

Alright. Shahar didn’t really give any indication to a choice other than to agree to it; he didn’t know how to pray with other people, and he wasn’t quite sure where they would end up on something as vague as “a walk,” but he definitely wasn’t against either of them––he simply had no preference. He would go where Rue went.

“I need to see to the hide, and close the shop, but if you want to stay?”

If I want to stay? There seemed to be something missing from that question––but if he wanted to stay, what? Then it occurred to him that maybe she was asking him to stay, as an invitation rather than an odd half-question. Shahar corrected himself to yes, I’ll stay.

[Naiya]

Rue's mind sort of stuttered to a halt. Incorrect, why, foolish. She could see these words from him, understand them, but she had no answer. His posture left little room for her answer anyway, stating these things like they were fact, like he had never heard anything so inherently wrong.

Her hand plucked uselessly at the air, not shaping any words but rather conveying a skeptical acquiescence. She couldn't argue with his facts, even if they disagreed with hers.

He'd offered a general agreement to go with her, and to wait as she finished up her work. Not that such a process would require much, a closing of the doors and windows, salting the hide and laying it out to be stored, that was really all that was required. The webbing left the Drykas without much opportunity for theft, the tones of such a thing lingered long enough for one such person to easily be found.

She offered him a smile, reluctance in her posture as she released his hand and moved to do as she had said. Follow? The question was tinted with offering and a tempered by a polite offering to take no harm at declining to answer.

Then she carefully lifted the pelt back into her hands, and made her way towards their selection of furs. Finding a clear spot on the worktable she spread the pelt out, crinkling her nose at the slight of the blood on the skin, almost feeling as though it might jump at her and scream like the hare she had caught the other day.

Was that what had caused her sudden squeamishness? She mentally shrugged, moving to douse the bloodied side of the pelt with salt.

[Colt]

Rue acquiesced, albeit skeptically, and Shahar in turn let his point lay as he’d made it, without further elaboration.

Then she smiled at him. It wasn’t stunningly wide or brilliant, but it caught his attention immediately and filled him up with a warmth, one that didn’t burn and tingle like the space between them did. It was a simple warmth, like the kind he felt when he was just the right distance from a fire, and Shahar decided quickly that he quite liked it when Rue smiled, as reflected in the pleased curve of his shoulders.

The young woman released his hand reluctantly, offering for him to follow. Shahar nodded and agreed.

She took the pelt in hand and made her way to the back of the shop. Shahar measured his paces against hers, taking care to remain exactly one arm’s-length behind her more out of habit than anything else. She led them to a worktable filled with all sorts of things, but she managed to find a clear spot to lay the pelt down. Shahar took a step to the side to give her room for whatever it was she was preparing to do to the thing, then settled to observe as she began to salt the bloody side.

There was a distinctive lack of social propriety in his observing––or rather, his staring. Shahar watched Rue unwaveringly, sometimes watching her hands and sometimes her face without any real inkling that such unbroken visual contact could be interpreted as inappropriate.

[Naiya]

It was delicate work, though it would seem far from it, because she had to be careful to not miss any section of skin, or to leave the edges too lightly salted. It did allow her a moment to think without worrying about whether Shahar was expecting something from her. She took the time to pick over her thoughts, and the reactions between them.

He had been pleased when she let go of his hand, maybe at her reluctance to do so, and that lightened her mood some. It was still strange to think that such a thing might be possible, it went against a lot of the things she believed. It wouldn't be a bad thing, though, for that to change.

She was getting ahead of herself though, because it wouldn't take him long to realize he had made a mistake in offering to include her in his family - though that was a loose interpretation of his words. She glanced at him over her shoulder, blue eyes catching green as their eyes met for the briefest moment, and she blushed lightly, turning her eyes back to the pelt.

He was staring at her, but she wasn't sure that it was a bad thing. She examined her work, finding that it was well covered, she brushed the fine powder from her hands. She offered an explanation to Shahar, turning to face him as she began signing into the space between them.

Salt will draw out moisture. It will keep at least until morning. She moved to close up a few things, tightening openings in the tent, straightening displays, peering cautiously at Shahar as she did. He seemed careful to keep a distance between them, though not one that was too great, and he watched her move about as though some secret would be revealed to him if he looked closely enough.

She would probably have been bothered if it had been someone else. If he had told jokes, or flirted outrageously, or put his hands on her, she would have dismissed him completely as she had others - but there was something earnest, open, in his behavior, that drew her towards him rather than pushing her away.

There was the beginnings of a tentative happiness in her bearing, that only a close eye might catch, as she faced Shahar once more, pulling the last of the tent openings shut. It left them in a sudden dimness that was startling in it's thickness within the tent. Rue hadn't realized quite how much light was coming from lanterns lit along the paths, and though he stood close, Shahar was little more than a shadow beside her.

"Shall we go?" She offered gently.

[Colt]

She took a handful of a fine powder that Shahar identified as salt, sprinkling it gently over the back of the pelt. She seemed to fall into her work, expression vaguely reminding Shahar of the haze he felt when looking for trails on the open plains. Her gaze flickered over to him for a moment, meeting his and holding there for a single instant. He tilted his head, but her eyes were gone as quickly as they had arrived, followed by a coloring of her cheeks. They seemed to do that a lot.

Rue turned to him suddenly, bringing Shahar to attention.

She explained what she was doing with the salt, causing Shahar to look at the pelt curiously. Rue then moved on to other things, closing up the open spaces in the pavilion walls. Shahar moved with her, remaining the arm’s length behind and watching without a sound. There was a sign in her posture that was too light for Shahar to make out as she moved, but he had no doubt that it was something positive. It was a passive sign, displaying a state of being rather than trying to convey specific information, and if she was in a positive state of being, that was good enough for Shahar.

The pavilion was plunged into sudden darkness as the last opening was drawn shut. Shahar swallowed instinctively, body shifting into nervous discomfort; he could still make out the vague shapes of clothing displays nearby, and then there was Rue’s presence, but the light of the outside was gone and had left behind the illusion of being trapped. The wind still blew, as it always did, and that was perhaps the biggest comfort; it was the lack of exits that made him nervous, but as long as he heard the walls moving in the breeze he knew that openness was not far away––if it came down to it, he could charge through the cloth, and the simple knowledge of that being an option made the darkness somewhat easier to bear.

“Shall we go?” Rue asked.

Shahar signed tense agreement, then realized that it was probably useless in this lighting.

“Yes.”

[Naiya]

She could make out his movement in the darkness, but if he signed it was lost to the girl, and only after she heard the slight tension, the strain of his voice did she remember that he had once before displayed a - a discomfort with tight spaces, with not having sight of the open grasses that surrounded the city.

She pushed open the front most fold of the pavilion, ducking beneath the high tied knot that would serve to keep the doorway from flapping open during the night, and held the opening for the man who wouldn't know to find it otherwise.

Unsure her posture claimed as they stepped into the relative light of the emptying streets. She had asked him if he would accompany her - something that was strange in its own right - and he had openly agreed, but now she did not know where he wished to go or even if she should lead the way.

Her life was not one that often presented her opportunity to lead, especially to lead a man. In fact the thought was quite foreign to her, so she waited expecting Shahar to take the lead and decide what their next action would be. Yielding, she formed the word with her body, offering, submission to authority. She was no longer in her shop, no longer in a position that offered her any power, so she would let him take the lead.

Or at least give him the opportunity, showing her willingness to follow anywhere he led her.

[Colt]

Rue moved in what Shahar assumed was the direction of the exit, and he used her movements to remain the same arm’s length. He paused when she paused, then took a step back at the telltale rustle of canvas on canvas; the dimness of the outside pierced the lightless veil, and when Rue held it open for him Shahar all but ran into the open.

The breeze washed over him like cool water. He took in a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering, quiet sigh, relieved to be outside once more. He took a moment to regain his self-control and then turned back to Rue.

She was unsure, in an indistinctly specific way that was directed at both Shahar and herself. He reacted with query, and she went on to put signs to the nature of her feelings.

Yielding, offering, submission to authority. Willingness to follow. The signs were directed at Shahar, but for a moment he thought she must be making a mistake. He even turned to look around, to see if there was someone else that she was referring to, but aside from a straggler that was still closing up a nearby pavilion, they were alone.

Shahar looked back at Rue. Me? he asked, confused. Was she expecting him to lead?

Shahar yielded right back to her, reiterating deference. You decide. I follow. He didn’t know anything about where they might go, at least not as much as she had sounded like she knew, so it seemed only fitting that she should be the one to lead the way.