"This is still a bad idea." Tani insisted, stepping aside to allow a Strider past. She didn't know why she bothered speaking. Nareth had made his argument twice before breakfast, the weathered carpenter as unyielding as the pine he shaped. Kyron had known how to twist the old patriarch, but with her bondmate gone, Tani was wood beneath the knife. "She's Syliran. You know they don't understand us." In more ways than one. The argument lacked the fire it had the first time she'd made it. Nareth had ground her down then, and Tani had no doubt he would do so again. Now, she was just going through the motions. "I'd be better off talking with the horses."
"Then teach her Tani..." Nareth's hands flashed across the space between them, Nareth rapidly tracing the signs for duty and family. Tani itched to slap the signs away, to dart for the safety and comfort of the Grasslands. Nareth was no family of hers, not by blood. Instead, the carpenter had been Kyron's father, and it was only out of respect for the lingering affection she had felt in her bondmate that she had consented to his request. In truth, she had done all she could to avoid him, but everyone had to come home eventually, and Nareth had been waiting, carving knife and block in hand. Nareth continued. "You saw the pox. We need every able hand we can get." He nodded toward a cluster of tents lurking on the far side of the market like scavengers waiting to move on a kill.
Taylani's tent would be over there, within easy reach of the city centre. Nareth turned to Tani, staring her down. He was one of a handful who could. Most of the Drykas still found the narrow slits that were her pupils discomforting, a gift of her Kelvic heritage. "And that includes our guest, Syliran or no. Whatever she was, she's a Drykas now, Tani. Remind her of that." And then the carpenter was gone, swallowed by the crowd. Over a year of tracking game through some of the most inhospitable terrain in Mizahar, and she still had no idea how he did that.
Weeks had passed since Tani had last visited the markets and, though Endrykas had changed location at least half a dozen times since then, the same nose-curling smell of the tanner's workshops was waiting for her. Her breath caught as she inhaled, and she quickly abandoned the idea, darting past the tannery at a low run, clinging to the clean air in her lungs like a drowning man. She 'd heard that larger cities kept tannerys to the outskirts to avoid the smell. The Drykas could rarely afford that luxury in the Grasslands. As with so many other things in Endrykas, safety had taken priority over comfort.
Tani caught a flash of red through the crowds. She knew that face, recognized it from a long, dark, trek across the Grasslands. No. She dragged her mind back to the present, forcing a smile. She wasn't ready to revisit those memories yet. The flesh was still raw. Taylani sat outside her tent, the lithe Syliran standing out amid the tanned Drykas like a white rabbit in the Grass. Tani had met a few white rabbits. Pretty enough, she supposed, in a twisted sort of way, but they didn't tend to live too long. She wondered if the Syliran would be any different. With a final glance to ensure that none of the accumulated grime of the last few days had escaped her attentions, she made her way to Taylani, who glided to her feet as Tani approached.
"Taylani?" There was a note of a question in her voice, Tani staring at the woman as though the secrets of creation were buried somewhere in the creases of her face, if she could only look hard enough. After a moment, those eerie green eyes blinked, their owner taking a pace back, apparently satisfied. Tani raised an eyebrow at the newcomer, spoke a sentence in Pavi, hands dancing across her body, and turned back toward the beaten path of grass that passed for a road in Endrykas. When Taylani didn't move, she sighed, turning back to the Syliran with an overly-dramatic florish, hands dropping to her sides in defeat. Mizahar had many Gods and, at that moment, Tani wished that she knew one of them to swear by. The girl couldn't even speak Pavi! No wonder Nareth had been so insistent, the man barely spoke a word of common. Tani was hardly better, her limited vocabulary the product of occasional exchanges with passing traders. This would be a mess. She could feel it.
"Endrykas." Hands circled her in a vague wave as Tani dredged through her memory, searching for words. Unconsciously, the limb's movements slowed to match the awkwardness of her speech. "You have seen? Nareth ask me look-" No, that wasn't right. She trailed off, trying to pick up the shattered thread of language. "Show. Show you." Good. There it was. She hadn't completely forgotten.
Without so much as pausing for a response, Tani set off into the crowd.