I rode in from a long day among the kaiila herds covered in dust. Between the rows, I reached up to drag the strip of material I used for a windscarf off my nose. The result had to have looked like a mask. Half soot hue and half cream finish. It was too much effort to reach up and swipe at it to improve my appearance. He was in his usual spot on the stairs of his wagon. Leaning over the pommel of my saddle, I braced my elbows there to toss our usual greetings of each other. I think you have missed me. Perhaps. He handed me his bota of water and the first streams dribbled down my face leaving streaked trails before I swallowed any of the clear liquid.
Ramza sent one of the girls to bring back jerky. lela had begun tending our fires and seeing that we had dung some time back after the move. My mate had nakia. He kept her in his wagon and I had no problem with that. She helped assuage some of his trips to visit mine. It left my little haven untainted, untouched .. the way I liked it. It left his the same way. It worked for us.
Now about lela. She is a leggy little thing without much meat on her, a mass of mousy brown hair that she doesn't even realize she has. I tried feeding her but, well but she just works it right back off and combing through that mop is more of a torture than making any difference in how it lays. The thing I like most about the girl is that she has never been trained to those gracefully elegant rituals that take time and energy. If you want something, she goes and gets it and brings it back ... done, then she is off to see to something else. It is not anything I am going to change about her nor will I allow anyone else to. I like her the way she is.
Anyway lela returned with the jerky, kneeling at Ramza's boots to offer him first choice. I said she wasn't trained for elegance but she's smart enough to know who has priority. He simply handed me a strip and shooed the wisp off to finish whatever she was doing in the first place.
I watched the little tom boy scamper off while I prodded my mate for all that had been going on while I was with the herds. I know he is not a social butterfly but he is often my greatest source of information. I had little to add except the half man, half kaiila tale and that I had found a honey comb beyond the dry gulch. There was a promise to make some layered nut pastries for him.
He knew I had to return to the herds but wouldn't let a chance to sweet talk me to his furs go by. Such a Tuchuk he is. I was already pulling the reins to ride off so he shrugged and hung a bota from my pommel. Deciding a good drink before I began my ride would be just the thing, I turned the skin up and guzzled a healthy swallow before I realized my breath was on fire. Well now if that ain't a kick in .... PAGA! One of my boots kicked at his shoulder but he just side stepped with ease. I growled at him, "Trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me"? Same dry answer as always. "Maybe". I had to laugh even when I told him .. that was not how babies are made but it might be a good start. He had this serious look on his face and his tone changed enough for me to pay attention. "No, it involves a lot of fucking, my Nette"
A flick of the reins set Sinewy to motion, riding him straight onward toward the plains. Ramza had to step back to evade taloned claws. Mine and the kaiila's.
My mouth felt dry and I was about to reach for the bota again when I realized ... there was a bitter after taste clinging to my tongue. A whole different kind of kick wasn't it?
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