Was Feeling Fine [completed]

[Dhanya]

Pygmy raised a small hand to hair and cupped the ends, her hand bobbing twice, palm to the wildly-cut ends. Of course she cleaned up well, she was Zeltivan, after all. In her view she could make a burlap sack look fetching. Her view wasn't actually a true one but it could be said that confidence worked marvels for her.

"Khiara is back at camp, she and Vsenri don't like the heat too well so I went out to find something to do. "I want to go to the tavern now, if I may."

A certain measure of imperiousness had bled into her tone, no doubt a result of Vanator's compliment and offer. She remembered home, where she had always been at the call of guests to perform. It seemed she preferred it now the shoe was on the other foot.

She turned back towards the tavern, feeling quite jaunty. "It means getting kicked off your job. Happens to lots of people in the city, it's stupid, I hate it." She replied to Kayiri.

Pygmy had been laid off jobs before, when there wasn't enough money or the owner didn't like her sass. She'd never enjoyed it, tended to make a scene about it when it did happen. Being laid off was like swimming in winter.

Well, she had no plans to rest on getting a new job, even if it was an impermanent one.

"Who do you ask for work at the tavern, they have singers, yes?" She asked both men, turning so she was walking backwards.

[Vanator]

Pygmy's new (well, new to her) blue shift and belt did more than just dress up her appearance, it had changed her attitude. The sassy, confident girl Vanator had gotten to know in the grasslands had arrived. He grinned and turned to lead them to the tavern. As they headed back towards the market area, Vanator turned his head to Kayiri. "You may run into Hex, here, but she is not easy to find. She has come to see me, since she knows where I'm staying. But Hex comes and goes as she pleases." The beautiful Chaktawe half-breed still remained a mystery to Vanator, even after their journey together. The exotic woman swept in and out of his life, never long enough for him to delve deeper into her. The mention of Khiara sparked his interest. He would like to have seen the Vantha too. Maybe Pygmy would escort him to the caravan's camp to see her. He too harbored fond memories of meeting the brilliant-eyed woman from the frozen north. Approaching The Trough, the older Drykas man flinched as Pygmy turned to face them, walking backwards through the crowded street. "Well, the Fouroat brother's run the tavern, so you would have to speak to one of them about getting some work.." He placed his hands on Pygmy's shoulders, spun her around and pointed inside the Trough's pavilion as they entered the tavern. The place was only sparsely occupied at this early hour, a handful of patrons seated on the worn cushions around simple tables.

[Dhanya]

Pygmy liked the vibe of the tavern, although it was true she might have liked it more had it been loud, bright and bawdy. Her preference for dinge didn't prevent her from appreciating a decent venue. A pavilion wouldn't be the best place to sing, she thought, since there was a chance the cloth walls would absorb the sound. She wouldn't know until she tried.

She left Kayiri and Vanator to talk with the owners of the tavern or anyone else she could find. She did find two men quite quickly and engaged them in conversation that did not end in her desired goal as quickly as she would have liked. It turned out that even in a country that longed for singers, you still had to prove yourself competent before you'd be allowed to. She had to prove her knowledge of ballads and songs you could dance to but she managed to earn herself a spot singing that evening.

Problem was, she had no accompaniment. She could sing a capella, had that very day but if you wanted people to listen and give you time to take a sip of water every now and again, you needed something else to carry you. She also trusted her ability to do well if she had some help to cover any mistakes she might make. A good kelvic kept her assets covered.

'Lo, she caught sight of a guitar. The god of bards had smiled upon her once again.

"Excuse me." Pygmy said, with less pushiness than usual. She knew she could not afford to put this woman, hmm, a woman, on the wrong foot with her usual ebullience. "You like playing for a singer?"

The guitarist was Drykas, clearly. Her hair was long and braided, her colours were earthy and dry. She seemed like the sort of person that hadn't been born on the sea of grass but to it, bursting fully formed from the ground. The woman strummed her hand over the guitar strings, letting loose a chord.

"I don't mind it. Not sure I can see any singers though, where's your master, your hair is cut like a slave." The woman said, her voice revealing her age and strong diposition.

Pygmy frowned at her. She wanted to smash the guitar over her head, even imagined doing so but the smallest of constructive voices in her head told her not to.

"I'm foreign, we all cut our hair like this in Foreign." Pygmy replied, hands on hips and fingers tapping against her sides, reflecting her annoyance.

The woman smiled. Pygmy almost recoiled. Not the response she'd been expecting.

"Do they teach you how to sing, over in Foreign?" She asked, sitting upright and settling the instrument in her lap.

"Damn straight they do!" Pygmy said, jumping for her opening like the goat she was.

Pygmy showed her. They practiced all that afternoon, until the evening came and the patrons began to arrive and Pygmy started to wonder if Kayiri and Vanator had stayed to see her perform.

[Vanator]

Vanator watched Pygmy weave through the tables to make sure she found her way to one of the Fouroat brothers. His extroverted Kelvic friend had soon recruited the guitarist to her cause, and the two musicians became immersed in their work, or play. Vanator turned to Kayiri with a broad smile, his thumbs tucked into his belt. "She kind of grows on you, doesn't she?" Vanator had indeed become quite fond of Pygmy. The two Drykas warriors had loitered at the entrance to the tavern for a short while when a woman approached them. She was young, probably Kayiri's age, her long blonde hair tied back in a tail, a bullwhip coiled at her side. "I am looking for Vanator, of the Denusk Pavilion." She asked politely, but with a sense of purpose. Vanator shot a glance to Kayiri before responding flatly. "I am he." "I have something for you." she announced, producing a folded letter and holding it out towards Vanator. He looked at the woman puzzled, then lifted the paper from her hand. The Drykas opened the letter, turning and pacing a few steps away to read it in private. His face lightened, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was a letter from Kavala. He turned back to the Drykas woman, gently taking hold of her upper arm. "We need to talk." He spoke in a hurried hush. Looking over his shoulder, he glanced again at Pygmy, now fully engaged in singing with the guitar player. He did not wish to leave her, but the matter was urgent, to him at least. He would be back, and Kayiri was here. Besides, Pygmy knew where his tent was. He leaned towards his young friend. "Kayiri, something has come up. I will be back in a while." With that, he lead the tall blonde messenger out into the midway.

[Dhanya]

Pygmy was disappointed that she couldn't see her two companions anymore. She wondered if perhaps they had been lost to the crowd or had left her to practice without interference... It occured to her that maybe they had just gotten sick of her. Pygmy's deepest feelings, hidden well by the sharpness of her manner, resonated with this idea. Even though it wasn't true, she found it difficult to imagine an alternative. After all, who would want to stay with someone who was so brusque?

The sadder part was that Pygmy was aware of this self-fulfilling prophesy. She preferred it to the alternative. She wanted to be left because she wasn't worth staying with, rather than face loneliness after trying so hard that it hurt. Once was enough. If love had made her worth selling, then she become someone who wasn't worth the price.

I don't need you. She told herself, since she couldn't tell the two men. I'm golden, bugger you, I'll sing like a bird and you'll be sorry you missed it.

She rubbed her eyes and nestled into the hurt, ignoring the briefness of her acquaintance with Kayiri and the busy lives both men lived. As always, her thoughts centred upon herself. She was perhaps not peculiar in this regard. Someone else's magic had made her a creature with two natures and pushed all of her physical development into a year. The heart was much slower to grow and much more difficult to understand.

Pygmy slipped a drink from a tray, unmissed in heavy crowd and tipped it back. In the absence of true courage, the liquid variety would do. The guitarist, Hel was her name, gave Pygmy a disapproving look. Pygmy swore under her breath, good musicians didn't piss off their instrumentalists. Well, the only way was up, really. You couldn't disappoint after making a bad impression.

Pygmy raised her hand and rolled two fingers, it was time to go. Hel shifted her shoulders and adjusted her grip on the guitar. Pygmy counted down.

The first chord sang with Pygmy's voice.

"I ain't tellin' the truth no more, I ain't telling the truth! Oh, oh." Pygmy sang, her voice fierce and fragile, jagged and forceful. "I ain't tellin' the truth no more, so what's the use in it?"

It was a strong opening, stronger than she would have chosen normally. Already she could see faces turning her way, wondering where the music was coming from. Pygmy looked out over the crowd but she couldn't see them, she was absorbed by the song. Too busy dancing with short sharp movements, punctuating the words.

"Too many years hidden under a rock, and it seems I will not move, I ain't telling the truth no more, I ain't telling the truth!" Had anyone in the crowd known her, they would have seen how wild her eyes had become. Anyone that looked was momentarily struck by the weird creature singing such a foreign song.

"Too many years, it's the back of a lie,
And I don't know what to do,
I ain't tellin' the truth no more, I ain't telling the truth."

Hel was the better of the two of them. Her fingers moved effortlessly, keeping Pygmy's rhythm for her, moving her forward. Her guitar was almost alive, each note a movement in Pygmy's dance.

"But it did feel different than it did before,
When I got what I wanted, I di'nt want it any-more, hey, hey, oh!
But it did feel different than it did before!
When I got what I wanted, I didn't want it anymore!"

All the slippery old anger was gone and replaced by adrenaline, the joy of the song and the performance. Amala was gone, Pygmy was gone and in their place was someone else. Someone with purpose and power. Someone beautiful, maybe.

She sprang into the chorus, voice leaping into the air, her thoughts a blur. The dance changed, leading the tavern towards the end. Finally she began to slow.

"I ain't telling the truth no more, I ain't telling the truth." She sang, force easing back and curling up inside her throat, waiting for the next song. "I ain't telling the truth no more, oh, oh."

Hel played her last chords and let the guitar rest. Pygmy took a sip of water and readied herself for the next song.

[Vanator]

Vanator had spent the afternoon pondering the letter from Kavala, and the story the traveling Drykas woman told of meeting their sister Akela. He had learned in early winter when he met Evarette of Kavala's appearance in Riverfall. The half-brother had been relieved, but hurt that she seemed uninterested in seeing her family. But the letter breathed new life into the hope he would see his sister again. Then to hear that Akela was not only alive, but in Cyphrus. Well, that was great too. He was not surprised the cynical older of the two had not contacted her family, Aleka was a loner of sorts. But it was a great boon to hear she was alright. Evening had fallen and when neither Pygmy nor Kayiri had returned to his tent, Vanator wandered back toward the Trough. Entering the dimly lit tavern pavilion, he scanned the crowded room. Vanator did not see Kayiri, or Pygmy, until he stopped to see who was singing at the front of the room. A toothy grin spread across his face as he recognized the plucky Kelvic crooning and dancing before the crowd. Pygmy's voice was throaty, and the lyrics burst from her in forceful breathes, giving the song she sung an edgy feel that seemed to come from her gut. Vanator was impressed, and made his way closer to the low platform, leaning against a pole near the front corner, folding his arms over his chest. He watched and listened. The girl seemed to take on another persona, one thoroughly submersed in the music, in expressing emotion through her art. It was a Pygmy he had not seen, even when she sang outside his tent. This Pygmy was charismatic, possessing the beauty of an artist wrapped in her work. He glanced at the patrons at the low tables near the front, most pinning their attention on the lively, strange eyed singer with enjoyment. Vanator felt pride for some reason. The Kelvic was a talented entertainer, Vanator concluded, adding another facet to the ever intriguing companion he had picked up. Pygmy brought the song to an end, and Vaantor caught her eye as she paused to take a drink, flashing her a broad smile

[Dhanya]

Pygmy almost missed him at first, looking out at the busy tavern and smiling to herself. Compared to all the other little meetings in her day, she liked these best. You could sing to a crowd, love them, leave them. Those short moments on a stage made her feel closer to humanity and yet more distant from it than she ever did. It had been a long time since she'd seen a face in a crowd that was supporting her.

It was almost catastrophically disarming. Her returning smile was tremulous, though as always any emotion was difficult to read in her eyes. Vanator might have been able to see it in the cant of her brows, the parting of her lips as air rushed in.

She knew she was going to have to sing now, now or the words were going to run off like horses let out of a yard. Hel saw and blinked and recognised that now was the moment. Her guitar was living in her hands once more. Pygmy now wished she'd chosen a slightly different second song.

"In the morning we wreck the bed, you bring me coffee black and boiling!" Pygmy belted, hands raised like wild prayer.

She'd learned the song in a bar, in Syliras, during the few days she'd been there. She couldn't write, had no head for it but as a result she was damn good at remembering lyrics. She'd liked the song, even if it probably was more city-fare than for the boonies. Hopefully they'd forget the start. Everybody got worked up over songs about bad relationships. Pygmy found them compelling, though the shine of the unknown had worn off now she'd had a few bad men in her life. Down that road lay madness and good music.

"Then we start up again and the coffee goes cold..." Pygmy's voice dipped low and didn't crack like it could have, she kept singing. "I wake up drinking from your lips, kisses warm and tender; and I'd give up the word just to see you smile!"

Her energy shifted back, preparing for the next swell in the lyrics, "one thing I will never understand, has become my problem. And it's something that's right out of my hands! My hands are clean!"

She paused for a moment, Hel's hands stilled.

"What makes such a sweet guy turn so mean?" She sang into the silence, slow and sweet.

Hel was back and it was if the quiet moment had never happened. Pygmy forgot again that Vanator was even there, giving her audience moments to catch their breath before pushing them forward again, hands moving, music surging as much as it could in such a confined space. She didn't let her momentum slow until the final song. She often closed with it, she considered it her best closer. It soothed her own nerves, softened the crowd when she managed to attract one.

"Listen as your day unfolds, challenge what the future holds. Try and keep your head up to the sky." Her movements had slowed now, her smile no longer manic. "Lovers, they may cause you tears, go ahead release your fears. Stand up and be counted, don't be ashamed to cry."

Pygmy took a sip of water as Hel took her moment to play solo. She shifted on the spot, shoulders with the beat, hips swaying. Pygmy almost missed her cue to sing again and remembered yet again just how lucky she'd been to catch Hel and not scare her off. The Kelvic was a bird when she was on stage, nothing like the awkward, four-legged thing she was in reality. She swept through the song, becoming still only for the final chorus.

"All I know, all I know, love will save the day
You gotta be bad, you gotta be bold
You gotta be wiser, you gotta be hard
You gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger
You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm
You gotta stay together."

Hel played her final notes, back dark with sweat and her face shining with exertion. The last words, once more, Pygmy sang along.

"All I know, all I know, love will save the day."

Pygmy let her hands rest, palm's forward, eyes closed. Finished. She bowed to the crowd. She hadn't been able to let go of how she would have finished a performance in Zeltiva. Her posture relaxed, finally and she laughed.

"Thank you, you've been great. A hand for Hel, the guitarist." Her left leg swept back and her hands were loose and directed at Hel, a curtsey for the musician.

Afterwards, Hel told her she was a crazy bitch but that maybe she'd play guitar for her again. If Pygmy learned some manners. Pygmy told her honestly, she just wasn't very good at politeness.

[Tundris]

The first words of Pygmy's last song caught the breath of The Trough's occupants in their throats, the meaning of the words sinking in to all those who experienced strife in their own lives. As if naturally drawn to her crystal voice, the Drykas who sat listening seemed to collective melt their hearts at the combination of the melodic guitar strumming and Pygmy's honey tones that complemented the instrument's own wailing. The song rang through their ears and the lyrics through their minds like a relaxing massage from a hard day's work. Everyone needed to be reminded that having love was the treasure to come home to when things were tough. Family and friends alike, an aura of thankfulness and gratitude filled the atmosphere, glowing in the faces of the occupants more strongly than the amber lanterns did that hung from the tent rafters. An electricity of emotion was vivid in Pygmy's face, her every body part and motion expressing a modest amount of emotion relative to the feelings that were stirring within her, propelling her through the silky movements and belts of her voice. No one could deny the power of the small woman's presence and it was on that evening that the observing Drykas in the tavern were reminded to seek the truths behind things that aren't what they seem. The kelvic girl, new to the feelings that coursed through her veins, completed her routine only to leave the Drykas audience thirsty for more, even wanting to hear that last song again and again. Like many good tunes, Pygmy's closing performance would be taken on as a mantra while people worked. Whistled and hummed repeatedly, the song would travel no doubt as people with the ability to do so would sing it in rememberance to their loved ones, claiming that the small girl in the tavern had shown them a light, a new way to view themselves and appreciate life no matter the struggles. At first stunned by the reaction of the crowd as they stood up and clapped their hands together vigorously, Pygmy bowed with a radiant smile as a feeling of pride and accomplishment welled up inside her heart. If this is what real love felt like, unspecific to friend or lover, then she had felt it looking into the faces of those she affected and feeling their happiness. Beverage and food purchases had gone through the roof during her several performances and even a third Fouroats family member had to be called in to handle the demands. The time was late and night had hung itself outside the tents, beckoning the Drykas to their homes to hug their children and hold their lovers. While conversing with her accompanied guitarist Hel, Erys Fouroats approached the young female. "That was unbelievable! What did you say your name was again? Pyma? The Trough is in debt to you for lifting the spirits of those who come by here. Your lullaby is sending folks home and by golly they will sleep alright!" His eyes twinkled, clearly taken a back by the subtlety of the girl's look compared to her ability to perform musically. "Because of you young lady, we made a killing in mizas tonight! Come by the bar with me and lets get you your earnings." He excitedly shuffled her across the tavern, then he disappeared behind a canvas wall before appearing with a small bag full of miza coins. A total of ten gold mizas was held out for Pygmy to take in the wool bag with a string. "You earned this" he said in a low tone as he crouched down to meet her eyes. "You're welcome to perform here anytime you want." Bidding her adieu, he patted her on the shoulder before skittering off to clean the tavern in preparation for its closing.

Pygmy +1 Tracking +2 Dance +3 Singing Items: 1 Blue Tunic 1 Belt Vanator +1 Compassion Items: 1 Letter Kayiri +1 Persuasion +1 Compassion