Pained Steps [Kuhani]

[Hirem]

42nd of Spring, 510 A.V.
Private : Kuhani

"Hik." He grunted in exasperation, immediately shifting his weight back to his uninjured foot. The other one was crying out in pain, sending spasms of agony all over the side of his body. Hirem glanced down back at the wound, and sighed as he noticed the detoriation condition of the injury.

During his escape from Ahnatep, an arrow had sliced clean across his skin, thankfully avoiding any major arteries or veins. However, the wound hadn't been treated properly yet, and it was taking on a nasty smell and color. The strip of cloth that had been previously tied around it had loosened considerably by now, and Hirem had simply let it hang there uselessly.

After all, he deserved to die now. The previous few days had been very rough on him, ranging drastically in the elements. One day he had walked through a violent sandstorm, one that threw wind at him as if to strike him down from the face of the earth. The next day, it had been a struggle for survival against the intense heat, one that threatened to melt his bones and peel the flesh from his tired form.

Hirem sighed, and observed his new surroundings. The smooth, flat plains of sand in Ahnatep had long since disappeared as the ground became much more rugged. Plants and shrubs were now dotted over the brown earth, but none of them looked like the edible plants he knew. Large, red rock formations were jutting out of the horizon at unnatural angles, almost as if dropped from the heavens into their current positions.

He had no idea where he was anymore. He recalled hearing of red cliffs that were the home of the Chaktawe, but he had forgotten how far he had travelled or where his direction was heading. His mind was filled with the actions of the previous weeks, wondering why Yahal had seemingly abandoned him. He was filled with both doubt and pious belief, and he didn't know what to rely on anymore.

Ah well, it isn't going to matter for long. I'll be dead soon. He was thirsty, hungry, and disillusioned. In the desert, that spelled death, and Hirem would not survive the next week at this rate.

[Kuhani]

She hadn’t been walking for more than an hour when she felt the vibrations in the soil, heavy and without rhythm. It was the vibration of something dying, that much Kuhani could tell. She was not a tracker, yes, but she knew the walk an animal took as it became weaker and weaker…

Her fingers, freckled with dark spots, remained wrapped around a desert flower. Eyebrows furrowed underneath black bangs, dark eyes became strained. She tried to feel for more, to try and learn about the creature. The steps were heavy, so the being was large…but the rhythm wasn’t of a quadruped. It couldn’t be a bird because the steps were so heavy…so…

Kuhani lifted her head. It was humanoid.

Standing, she glanced back toward her tribe’s camp. Frowning, she looked out toward the desert, spying a black dot. The young girl sighed, stooping to grab the yellow desert flower. She tucked the right side of her hair behind her ear before placing the flower so it bloomed by her temple. Checking the waterskin at her waist, she licked her lips in thought. Her father’s borrowed hunting knife was sharp, she knew, and would cut an attacker easily. However, she did not trust her strength.

After a few breaths, she started out towards the black dot at a steady pace, fear slowly giving way to adrenaline.

Keep rhythm, Kuhani thought to herself, breathing deeply. Fainting here is death.

[Hirem]

As Hirem made his tired way through the cliffs, he began to feel a steady prickling on the back of his neck. He swiveled his head around when the prickling became too much, but nothing was there. Shadows slipped away from his careful eye, and slowly he turned about again, walking continually forward.

Still, the uneasy feeling of being watched did not leave his mind. Whispers darted back and forth between the red rocks, and he swore he could hear a low, hungry growl from behind him. Yet when he turned around again, there was nothing once more. You're just getting paranoid. Hirem immediately drew back upon that thought, taking safety in it. He slowly continued his way.

But the whispers became louder and louder, more frantic. Specters darted in between the rocks, sirens made their sweet, loving call. Liviya was suddenly at his side, smiling at him, leaning in to his head... then she darted away as the steady growling suddenly grew to a thunderous roar.

He knew that he needed to turn around, to face the danger, but he just kept walking forward, aware of a shadow that was growing behind him, blotting out the sun. Netanal, the old Rapa, was emerging from the shade of a nearby rock, shaking his head in dismay. The old man's words were bright and burning in his mind.

I have seen you on a horse, with blood up to the bridle and the bodies of your men float in this red oasis. Before you stands a stone jackal, tall as the walls of Yahebah.

Hirem wanted to cry out in anger and confusion at Netanal, but the Rapa gave one more vigorous shake of his head, turned about, and disappeared back into the shadows. And the growling grew louder and louder, and finally he could not bear it any longer.

He turned about with a wild look in his eyes, and gaped in awe and horror, stepping backwards for ground that was not there. He quickly stumbled backwards, his back crashing into the sands with a mighty thud. Hirem took no notice and continued to crawl backwards, eyes transfixed on the horrible apparition before him.

He felt his body slide up against one of the large red rocks, and he quickly spread his arms back against it, thankful to grab onto a firm support. He closed his eyes in desperation to escape from his visage, and lay there, unmoving, still as a stone.

[Kuhani]

It hadn't taken long to reach him, perhaps little more than a bell from the time she left her scavenging ground. She had been quiet, using her small body to her advantage, shuffling without much sound across sand and brush. She held her father's hunting knife in her right hand, ready to strike within a second. However, she had stayed back, less than ten yards from him, behind one of the red stones. She would not have dared to come closer if he had been Eypharian, but had noticed his lack of extra arms.

Watching him with wary, black eyes, she drew closer, but only to retreat behind a nearby rock when he seemed wild, turning and falling at something she could not see. It was then that her thought of a wound returned to her. He was hallucinating, which meant he was probably close to death.

It was only when he fell and seemed to immobilize before she felt safe to approach him. It was possible that he would attack her, yes, and he would maybe see her as a dangerous hallucination, but...a life was at stake. Her people would be happy to help any Benshiran, as that usually meant payment in some form. Taking a deep, but quiet, breath, Kuhani finally closed the gap between the two. However, she was slow, taking her time to prepare for a lunge.

"Are you alright?" she called in Shiber, her voice shaking. At fourteen, the timbre was clear, youthful. "I promise not to hurt you." She noticed the bloodied bandage as she neared. The man required help, that was sure. "I am Chaktawe, Kalanue tribe. We will help you."

Kuhani stopped at about three feet from him, waiting for a response. "May I approach you? I promise, I will not hurt you."

[Hirem]

The words of the Chaktawe girl split his vision like an axe through a block of wood. Immediately, he was thrown from his reviere, and it didn't take him long to observe his surroundings with a clear eye. No figures from his past crouching in the shadows, no immense jackal stalking up to him, snapping at him with it's sharp teeth. Instead, there was a woman that was standing in front of him, looking at him with an observant eye. A young woman, he realized, small and timid-looking. Her pale skin was out of place amongst the golden backdrop of the desert, prey in a vicious desert. Her raven hair, however, was quite distinctive amongst her features, and her completely black eyes were disorienting at first. He took a deep breath, and was about to respond when another explosion of pain caused him to gasp in suprise, his chest heaving with difficulty. As he tried to collect his thoughts, Hirem realized that he had no idea to address a Chaktawe from this particular tribe, or any Chaktawe at all. Hirem pushed himself into a more comfortable sitting position, one that didn't have him leaning against the rock for support, and he caught the wandering gaze of the girl with pained but honest eyes. "I am... fine... please, don't let me be a-" Another spasm of pain interrupted him once more, and he gave up that tactic as pure folly. "Hik." He grunted, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. "You can approach me if you wish. I'm not going to do anything, dangerous or otherwise."

[Kuhani]

When his eyes turned to her, it was obvious that his fear had immediately dissipated. Being so close to him, she confirmed that he was Benshiran, though his eyes did not take on the normal hue of beautiful blue. Noting his rather heavy build, Kuhani suddenly felt a pang of worry in her gut. However, she looked at his wound, nasty and infected. He would not be able to lunge at her even if he had the will.

As he spoke, she placed the hunting knife back in its sheath at her side. She knelt, gazing at him before he grunted in pain. Wincing herself, she shuffled forward at his invitation until she rested almost beside him. Kuhani glanced down at his foot, frowning. Her arm extended to rest on his knee hesitantly before bending to peer more closely at his wound.

"You're hurt," she said matter-of-factly. Her Shiber was fluent, though a hint of her natural accent dipped into her words. "You will come with me to my tribe. We are not far from here, a little more than a bell. We can help with this-" she glanced at his foot "-and you will be well."

Her eyes, pitch black and unsettling, suddenly became worried underneath dipping eyebrows. "Hallucinations are a bad sign." She dropped from her kneel to sit on the dirt, pale copper legs shining in the sun. Sighing, she thought for a moment before looking to their right and left, peering for something in the desert haze.

"What is your name, Benshira?" she asked innocently. Her eyes quickly turned to him after her question, seemingly satisfied from what she saw out in the desert. "I am Kuhani. If I find a way to ease your pain, will you come with me?"

[Hirem]

Worry seeped into his stomach, giving him another nasty feel in his gut aside from all the other ones. Going to a Chaktawe tribe... such an experience made him uneasy and anxious. He didn't think he had anything to worry... he shouldn't have anything to worry about. But shady whispers and hushed voices gave him reason to be cautious about such an encounter. He was reminded of a tale his father had told him, of some shepherds that had been at these Redstone cliffs and had been attacked by the Kalanue tribe, the one this girl had claimed to be from. There had been some dispute, apparently, and the tale served to illustrate a desert maxim: to trust no other race or creature in the desert other than your own; and even then, trust the ones you love with your life, and none other. However, all Hirem could think about was if he would be attacked if he accompanied Kuhani back to her tribe. As he tried to get his mind off such an event, he tried to chuckle, coming off as an irritated and pained sound. "Your Shiber is quite good, Kuhani. Quite good, indeed." Hirem adjusted his position endlessly, always shifting his weight and moving his legs before finally finding a position that suited him. Even after accomplishing this, he still took a while before answering Kuhani's questions. "I am Hirem, from the tents of Alachi, of the sons of Rapa." He caught her inquiring eye, and shrugged. "'Tis a Benshiran greeting." He glanced toward the horizon, where she had been looking, but whatever she was observing was lost in his muddy vision. He returned to stare at her black eyes. It was honestly surprising how such eyes could convey so much emotion and heart with their lack of color. Coming back on focus, he took a deep breath before speaking again. "If you are intent on doing this, feel free to do whatever you wish."

[Kuhani]

He seemed a thoughtful man, as he constantly drifted back into himself, this Benshira. However, Kuhani waited patiently, knowing that this ill man was worthy of some small respect. The longer they waited, however, the longer the sun would beat on them. It was more of an annoyance for her, like a fly that would resist a swatting hand. But for him, Kuhani knew that it would eventually get the better of him. Better to begin moving now.

She smiled at his compliment, bowing her head slightly. Her black hair shifted, trailing down her shoulders and wolf-pelt vest to flow down her arms. She watched him, black eyes running over his face as he paused after becoming semi-comfortable. Kuhani believed him to be handsome, though she could tell that he was much older than she was. His eyes appeared older, knowing. This man was special.

At his name, she gave another nod, but only completely understood its meaning at his explanation. She replied with a soft "ah", waiting patiently for his consent to treat him as she looked out into the desert lands. At his approval, she stood.

"If you don't wish to be helped, fine. But you seem to have a purpose," she said in Shiber, beginning to walk to the east. "I will return."

At that, she set out, though only walked about one hundred or so yards out. She approached a bushy shrub and removed her father's hunting knife from her side, biting the side of her lip in thought. Kneeling, she peered into the branches, searching for some kind of snake or animal. Finding none, Kuhani shuffled foward, taking her knife to the thin stems. She removed six, blinking as a pale yellow liquid began to drool out from the cuts to drip on the ground. At the sharp aroma, she turned her head and sneezed twice, standing clumsily on the second. Wiping at her nose with her arm, she returned to Hirem.

Kuhani sat at the same spot at his side, holding out the dribbling stems. "These are what I will use. Your people's healers probably use them as well. The liquid here -" she pointed at the dribble with the knife "- kills infections. But this is only temporary."

She set the stems and knife onto the ground before bringing out her water skin. She removed the plug and shuffled up to sit next to his wounded foot. "Keep still, Hirem. The pain will pass." Pouring the water over his wound, Kuhani watched old blood flow away onto the dirt. After a moment, she handed him the waterskin.

"Drink, but only a few gulps," she said delicately. "I will need to cut some fabric from your clothes. As mine are feathers, it wouldn't help much in cleaning." Giving a sheepish grin, she grabbed her knife. "Only a few strips would do. Cloth in return for some of my water. Fair trade?"

[Hirem]

As Kuhani disappeared behind the rocks and into the wilds, Hirem coughed slightly, rubbing his neck with both of his dirty palms. Perhaps Yahal was still with him, he pondered, glancing up into the sky as if to spot the god in all his glory. Or, perhaps, this was just a stroke of luck, no interference from the heavens at all. Hirem sighed, and hung his head low as he waited for the girl to come back. Faith and doubt were clawing up his insides in a brutal war for control, and it seemed unlikely that one side was going to triumph over another. Why, oh why, did he have to recieve this fate? He had just been a humble shepherd from a warm and comfortable Benshiran tent in his youth. He had gone to Yahebah, wanting to find out about his race's history, to learn all the knowledge that he possibly could learn. And then he recieved a vision, and like a hammer to a firm stone, he was changed forever. Now, here he was, dying out alone in the desert because he thought that exterminating an entire race was his god's wish. His thoughts were thankfully interrupted by Kuhani emerging like a ghost from the shadows, carrying six plant stems, dribbling a clear liquid out onto the sand. As Kuhani sat down beside him, he atttempted to say his thanks, but the girl didn't let him get a word in edge-wise before she started to treat him. It was the way of a healer, he supposed. The pain that came from the liquid on his wound was quick, stinging, and not unexpected. Hirem had recieved several treatments in the past when he had taken an injury falling down on some sharp rocks or scraping his knee against a stone wall. After recieving these pains before, he had numbed to it like an alcoholic to the first few drinks. It still caused him to clench his teeth momentarily before the pain passed. He pulled the waterskin to his chest as he nodded his agreement at her request. "Kuhani, you may take anything you wish from me. I would have died out here if not for you." He tried to muster a smile for her before pulling the waterskin to his lips and tilting it downwards, sending the water down into his gullet. He quickly broke the connection, pulling the waterskin from his mouth to stop himself from drinking it all. He would not drink the entire waterskin and leave Kuhani with none of her water left.