Pearl’s smile was as it always was, warm when she looked to Belkaia, while she signed to her, welcome, always. In some ways, it was easier to communicate in grassland sign, especially when Pearl didn’t trust her voice.
When Dravite approached and began milking Poppy alongside Kimba, Pearl willed her body not to tense. She hadn’t wanted to make any ripples in the work they all had to perform; it takes the pavilion working together to ensure its members safety and well-being, and Pearl had no desire to make it more difficult. She didn’t trust herself to speak when Dravite questioned her; choosing instead to worry her bottom lip between her teeth as she continued milking Kimba, slowly, deliberately squeezing the milk from her teets in a slow and steady stream into the bucket.
Finally, she spoke, though her words were scarcely a whisper as she tried to keep the emotion out of them and voice, carefully, her answer to his questions, “Kavu did wonderfully with the herding. Better when Roan explained my error.” Her lip was worried between teeth once again after the ventured a small glance to him. He looked genuinely concerned, and she began to feel more upset before the words began to spill forth, quietly spoken still, “It was, it feels, sometimes I don’t understand, but it was,” she stopped abruptly as Kimba kicked at the bucket and bleated loudly in protest of her teet being pulled too hard.
“Sorry, Kimba,” she cooed at the goat and kissed at her ears, nuzzling her cheek to the goat’s head for a moment. “I’m so sorry.” Pearl’s hands were usually much more gentle when she was tending to the goats, but she had slipped in her ministrations this morning. “I’ll be better, sweet Kimba,I won’t pull on you like that again, please forgive me?” she continued to coo at the goat until both she and the goat were feeling a bit more at ease.
When next she spoke, she was more calm, and her words didn’t tumble over one another quite so much. “It was the comment about Belkaia not biting. Sometimes, when you speak, or others for that matter, it makes me question my place, not being married to you, but, my actual place, here. It’s as if I, well, I don’t know what I need permission for, or what to expect. It sounded like, when you said she doesn’t bite, like she was going to be angry, or upset, or that I should have asked her first. I know,” she paused for a moment before continuing, “we are bound together, the three of us, before the Gods, but I don’t have experience with being a second wife, or having had a second wife when I was married before. You both have, your ways, your history, your time together and forgive me, please, when I don’t understand my position.”
As she quieted with her words, so too had Kimba with milking. Pearl moved the bucket from beneath the goat, pulling it closer to her so as not to lose any of the milk when she allowed Kimba to step away. Pearl wouldn’t look at Dravite yet, keeping her face turned away, so he would not see the tears that began to well in her eyes, despite her efforts to keep them at bay.
.
.
.
When Dravite approached and began milking Poppy alongside Kimba, Pearl willed her body not to tense. She hadn’t wanted to make any ripples in the work they all had to perform; it takes the pavilion working together to ensure its members safety and well-being, and Pearl had no desire to make it more difficult. She didn’t trust herself to speak when Dravite questioned her; choosing instead to worry her bottom lip between her teeth as she continued milking Kimba, slowly, deliberately squeezing the milk from her teets in a slow and steady stream into the bucket.
Finally, she spoke, though her words were scarcely a whisper as she tried to keep the emotion out of them and voice, carefully, her answer to his questions, “Kavu did wonderfully with the herding. Better when Roan explained my error.” Her lip was worried between teeth once again after the ventured a small glance to him. He looked genuinely concerned, and she began to feel more upset before the words began to spill forth, quietly spoken still, “It was, it feels, sometimes I don’t understand, but it was,” she stopped abruptly as Kimba kicked at the bucket and bleated loudly in protest of her teet being pulled too hard.
“Sorry, Kimba,” she cooed at the goat and kissed at her ears, nuzzling her cheek to the goat’s head for a moment. “I’m so sorry.” Pearl’s hands were usually much more gentle when she was tending to the goats, but she had slipped in her ministrations this morning. “I’ll be better, sweet Kimba,I won’t pull on you like that again, please forgive me?” she continued to coo at the goat until both she and the goat were feeling a bit more at ease.
When next she spoke, she was more calm, and her words didn’t tumble over one another quite so much. “It was the comment about Belkaia not biting. Sometimes, when you speak, or others for that matter, it makes me question my place, not being married to you, but, my actual place, here. It’s as if I, well, I don’t know what I need permission for, or what to expect. It sounded like, when you said she doesn’t bite, like she was going to be angry, or upset, or that I should have asked her first. I know,” she paused for a moment before continuing, “we are bound together, the three of us, before the Gods, but I don’t have experience with being a second wife, or having had a second wife when I was married before. You both have, your ways, your history, your time together and forgive me, please, when I don’t understand my position.”
As she quieted with her words, so too had Kimba with milking. Pearl moved the bucket from beneath the goat, pulling it closer to her so as not to lose any of the milk when she allowed Kimba to step away. Pearl wouldn’t look at Dravite yet, keeping her face turned away, so he would not see the tears that began to well in her eyes, despite her efforts to keep them at bay.
.
.
.
