Closed Unfamiliar Terrain [Kaveh]

[Naiya]

9th Day of Spring, 515 AV
Late Morning

The rain of the day before had yet to dry from the streets, though she imagined it would soon, the gentle warmth of spring would see to that. They had arrived just the day before the rain, and she had not had much opportunity to explore since then.

The more she walked around, the more she noticed the inhabitants's grace and comfort in navigating the city, a skill Naiya was lacking. These uneven grounds were not something the Drykas had experienced before, not in living memory, and navigating them made her feel rather like a colt learning to walk.

The rises, steep as they often were, seemed to cause natives little trouble, the flat stone carved for walking up or down - someone had told her their names at some point but she couldn't recall them - allowing most to move about the city. Naiya, however, had yet to figure out how to navigate them with grace.

Still, it wasn't like she could just avoid the things, they were everywhere in giant stone city. So she was doing her best, walking carefully down towards her destination, but she really seemed to have something wrong in the position of her body. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was going to fall, to slip and go tumbling down the face of the stone.

Perhaps it was her own fear that caused her downfall, for the next thing that happened was that she slipped. Normally such a thing might not have caused her to fall, but with her balance off, and the mild dampness of the ground beneath her feet, she slipped.

She flailed only a moment before she realized she would fall. She couldn't help the startled sound that burst from her lips, but putting voice to her thoughts didn't stop her from reacting. Falling was the first thing she learned in her combat training, it was nearly second nature. She dropped her weight backwards, hoping to prevent a head over heels tumble, and twisted her upper body so that she could catch her fall on her forearms.

Normally, such a thing was a better plan than taking a fall without catching herself. She quickly discovered that such a maneuver was less than useful in her current situation. In fact, she soon finished her decent down the remaining stairs collecting scrapes and bruises in an assortment of places not the least of which being her forearms. Though her hip took a close second to the hurts of her arms.

She slid to a stop near the bottom, a soft groan leaving her lips. This was not how she wanted to spend her day.

[Kaveh]

She tucked her arm into his as they walked, her free hand coming to rest on his forearm. "So" She began, looking knowingly toward her son. "about your job." The Chaktawe grunted, half in discomfort and the other in mockery. "If that's what you call what Argar has me doing." His mother's lips grew wide, a sliver of white against her tawny skin. "No, your job." Confused, Kaveh turned toward her, their shared, dark eyes meeting. With his mouth half opened to speak, he froze in expression before realization dawned on him, his muscles relaxing into a similar smile. He should have known he wouldn't be able to keep this from her, though it was fairly obvious to his entire family, friends and anyone else willing to listen that Kaveh disliked being under his father's thumb. At times it felt as though he was more of a servant than a healer, fetching this and that, watching the brews brew. Admittedly he had learned some things, though it was mostly through observation of his father's work and reading through some of the medical books in his boredom.

"Nothing yet, I tried looking but they're almost all at the Wellness Center." Kahina nodded slightly, her gesture mocking. "Well I guess you're stuck with your father then." Kaveh groaned playfully. "Chopre he randi". He spoke, his Tawna strengthened mostly through curses much to his mother's amusement. Arriving now at the Sapphire Star, her mother let him go with a squeeze of a hand and a final word in Tawna. "Focus not on your differences but your similarities. In the end, he'll always be your father."

After escorting his mother to her job, Kaveh began to head back to his apartment. Even now, with the sun approaching its peak, it was still not yet time for him to be awake. Leisurely, he walked behind a woman with a mass of red hair, braids occasionally brushing against her pale, tattooed skin. A Drykas, he mused briefly as his thought was cut off by a yelp. Quickly, he reacted, dodging out of the way of the falling body by pressing himself close to the side of the path. Though he may have been able to reach out to grab hold of one of her flailing limbs, it simply didn't occur to Kaveh at the time and really, he didn't want to end up falling as well. As much as the stone stairs may hurt, she would be fine.

When the woman came to a rest, Kaveh eased himself back into the center of the path, his gait casual as followed her trajectory downwards. As he arrived beside her, the Chaktawe was distracted by a yawn, his arms reaching upwards as he stretched. "First time in Riverfall?" He asked, still yawning. Regardless her answer, the healer would then come to a squat and make an attempt to grab her arm by the elbow, his grip firm yet gentle. Should he succeed, Kaveh would then look over the scrapes and cuts with mild interest before speaking, his eyes up but looking at nothing in particular. "Hmm, is that why you people tattoo yourselves? To cover up wounds? I don't think the Zith are particularly intimidated by them if that's what they're for."

[Naiya]

She was thoroughly bruised, and she thought perhaps her arms were bleeding. She rolled over, so that she was sitting on the stone benath her. Or half sitting.

"Oww.." The complaint was barely vocalized, more taking inventory of her current state than actually feeling the pain. Her tunic had bunched in her sliding decent, leaving her sides and more of her back bare, all the better to accumulate injuries. She tugged the fabric back down, silently cursing the entire city for being so difficult to get around.

It wasn't until the man yawned loudly beside her that she even noticed him, a sign of her bewildered state. Had she really just fallen? This man had seen her too, apparent by the rather pointed comment about her novice attempt to navigate the steep path.

Before she could collect herself, he was crouched beside her, lifting her arm to examine the cuts there, and bringing a spike of pain with his touch. There would surely be more of that soon, she was likely still too shocked to really be aware of each of the aches.

"It is not," She replied, her own common slow and difficult. His words did not make total sense, something about tattoos for wounds, and then Zith, those were the horrid bat people that had attacked their pavilions, but neither had to do with the city here or her tumble down the stairs. "Not for covering, not for Zith." She finished, and after noting once more the pain that emanated from where he held her arm, she pulled gently on the appendage, hoping to free it from is grasp without igniting further aches.

She needed to go home, clean up to keep her scratches from healing with dirt inside them, and perhaps she would complain about the city to Khida. She would either tell her she was being silly, or agree, either way the act of talking about it would make her feel better.

Another sound of general pain brushed against her lips, asking to be released, and after a moment it trickled out in a soft groan. All new spots were protesting her lack of grace, her hip and side especially. Taking a fall had not saved her on the uneven, unnatural terrain.

"I need to go." She said, and then after a moment to realize she had spoken in her native tongue, repeated the phrase in common. "I need to see a healer, medicine man?" What was the common word for doctor? She could not remember, but she should really go find someone to make sure she was okay. She didn't think she had hit her head, she shouldn't have, but since she currently couldn't feel any of the scratches on her arms, she obviously wasn't a judge of the severity of her wounds.

Language note :

I wasn't sure what language he was speaking, I have assumed it was common, if that is incorrect let me know and I will edit the post appropriately

[Kaveh]

Slowly but surely, the red haired woman replied with a heavily accented Common. Ah, she's not fluent in the language. Naturally Kaveh had failed to consider the option, only apt at taking on others' perspectives when it suited him. To her answer, he was mildly disappointed in his incorrect guess which only served to wet his appetite for curiousity. At the same time, the woman made a move to free her limb from his grip, to which the distracted Chaktawe allowed. Perhaps the tattoos were a cultural aspect of the Drykas? Something like the several rites his brother, Emem, underwent as an Akalak. It was perhaps one of the few aspects of his older sibling's life that Kaveh did not envy, though it would be difficult for him to admit that it was not the hassle but the danger that he dreaded. To venture into the Sea of Grass and bring down a deadly creature such as a glassbeak, not to mention a Zith, it was nearly impossible for the healer to imagine. To seriously entertain the thought would send chills down his spine, a hollowing of his body that seemed to numb the fire of his very being. Paralyzed in fear some would call it, a potential hazard for any that left the secure stone of Riverfall behind. It more than anything else, confined the Chaktawe to his home and from his goals.

When she made small, languid movements in an attempt to rise, mentioning the need for a "medicine man", he replied with a lighthearted tone. "Medicine man? If you need a 'doctor', I can help. And you certainly look like you need it." Watching the woman struggle for just a moment longer (mostly for his own amusement, though he thought perhaps she would find it funny looking back on the situation), Kaveh would then wait with a leaned shoulder before looking to the Drykas with a raised eyebrow. Should she take his offer of help, the Chaktawe would then gently hold the wrist of her draped arm in order to secure it in place. Despite his self-centered thoughts, the healer was patient in guiding her along, careful not to walk too quickly or too slowly, forcing her to lead. Luckily they were fairly close to the Windswept Condos and thankfully, more so than the Wellness Center where he apprenticed. Kaveh was not in the mood to deal with his nosy father, who would be quick to assume the Drykas's injuries were his making and give him an unnecessary scolding in front of anyone and everyone. Besides, Kaveh assumed the woman was not of Kuvan status, and would be turned away from the hospital anyways. This was mostly due to her appearance and lack of grace, though it was hard for the Chaktawe to imagine this woman with any sort of weapon in hand, let alone be competent in the associated skill.

In short time, they arrived outside the condos. "Home sweet home." He commented, looking at the tranquil setting. Checking up on his newfound patient, should she express any sort of worry or hesitation, Kaveh would make an attempt at reassurance. "I apprenticed with my father - a 'medicine man' - at the Wellness Center but I'm between jobs right now." He paused, rephrasing just in case she did not understand his Common. "Unemployed. No job, so I can't take you there, sorry. I can help you here though. You ok with that?" Kaveh then waited to make sure the Drykas woman was willing to enter, guiding her to his unit once the go ahead was given.

Inside was a small bedroom with the usual hearth, bunk, chest, chair and small table, but with a plethora of his clothes draped or strewn across them as though they were removed hurriedly. Used to and unembarrassed about the mess, the Chaktawe lead the Drykas to the chair, kicking the pants that were half on the seat to free it. Slowly, he eased her to a sitting position before ducking out from under her arm in order to avoid any unnecessary lifting and potential straining of limbs. "Hold on." Kaveh then moved toward the pail, grabbing it and the cloth on top with a slight rush to his steps. As he passed her on his way out, he added. "Water" And for the moment, she would be freed of his presence.

oocI hope the assumptions I made here were ok since I mentioned part of it in my PM. Also I apologize for the delay, just had to finish up some exams.

[Naiya]

He seemed rather amused with the whole situation, speaking in a tone that implied at least that. "Yes, Doctor." That was what she had been trying to say. He mentioned that he could help, though not really how, and she had every intention of refusing the man who seemed entirely too focused on how funny he thought the situation was.

She had already found her way into a sort of sprawled seat where she had landed, so she imagined rising wouldn't be too difficult. She shifted again, trying to get her weight moving upwards and forwards so that rising would be easier, and she did manage despite the cringe that contorted her face.

Getting up proved easy, it was remaining that way that provided her with a problem. Standing now, the hip that had caught the stairs protested, and her quick movement to relieve the weight on her now bad leg revealed that the extent of the damage on her side was perhaps worse than she originally thought.

She caught sight of the man, propped against a wall as though he couldn't be bothered to stand properly on his own. He raised an eyebrow at her, rising into a proper stance and offering his arm rather expectantly.

She made to walk away from him, ready to be done with the arrogant man, but her first step proved that she wouldn't be able to do so. Her first step was only half complete when her hip chose to inform her that it would not be carrying its own weight for at least the remainder of the day. In the brief moment she had before it gave out beneath the entirety of her weight, she grabbed for the first thing she could reach.


Which just so happened to be the proffered arm of the stranger. He might have noticed then, with Naiya relying so heavily on his arm to remain standing, that she was heavier than she first appeared, but if he did, his still amused expression didn't falter.

Cursing her luck, she draped her arm in his, accepting his offer to help with mild reluctance.

He led the way to what appeared to be a giant over grown garden. Although, overgrown wasn't quite the right word for it. It was covered in greenery, flowers and fruits in abundance, so much so that they draped over the paths and crawled up the walls. It was pretty, but to Naiya, seemed an impractical way to have a home.

For it was a home, as the man explained to her, seeking her permission to take her inside perhaps, and she acquiesced, she had already come this far. The inside of the place, similar to the outside was a mess. Rather than tangled vines and overlapping leaves, it was clothing the overtook every available surface.

He cleared a chair and helped to lower her into it, and then with a suddenness that left her startled, he left.

Alone, she was left to contemplate the room. It was a mess. That didn't take long to note, or maybe it was more that she was too distracted to note anything beyond the mess. The walk had been uncomfortable, but now, sitting still, she had no distractions, and the pain that had been slowly revealing itself had grown to a cacophony of aches and sharper pains all seeking her attention.

Where had that man gone? She wanted to go home and curl up on her bedroll and complain to her family about the stupid city and it's strange paths. Instead she was sitting in a stranger's house waiting for him to return from... somewhere.

[Kaveh]

After a short time, Kaveh returned with the pail now half filled and the cloth now damp, the latter washed thoroughly. Placing the pail by her feet, the Chaktawe then hung the damp cloth over the other chair's back before carrying it over to face the Drykas. Seating himself, he then reached for her hand first, noticing the bleedings cuts on her forearms. Before washing out the wounds, the healer carefully removed the larger pieces of dirt still clinging on to the clotting blood with a careful hand, his fingers warm and precise. "So" He began, catching her attention first to prepare her for the Common to come. "What's your name?" Kaveh would glance up from his work once the Drykas spoke, or after a period of silence should she not. Either way, he would then offer his own. "I'm Kaveh." He preferred getting the introductions out of the way so they could move on to some exciting small talk. Clearly the Chaktawe wasn't a fan of it, but he thought it may help distract his patient from the pain if for a moment.

Finishing with the larger pieces, he then grabbed the cloth on the back of his own chair and dipped it into the water, squeezing the majority of the liquid out. With her hand still in his, the healer gently squeezed the remaining water over each region of scratches, careful not to release enough that it would splash out once it hit the pail. "What's your job?" Kaveh kept his questions simple and plain, not wanting to waste his breath repeating or explaining should she fail to understand the first time. Work was an easy subject, and likely one that even those with a basic hold on Common might be able to describe. With each rinse with the cloth, the smaller bits of dirt slowly came off without much disturbance to the wound itself. Then, he gently washed the skin around the wounds with light, patting motions. It would be hard to tell from his fixed gaze alone, for it appeared endless in its dark colour, but the Chaktawe took great care in cleaning the bleeding scratches having seen the consequences from not doing so first hand.

Forgetting his own rule of keeping commmunication simple, Kaveh naturally began to talk through his work. "You want to make sure to remove all the dirt and clean out bleeding wounds with water first." Satisfied with the one forearm, he added. "When these scab - become hard" he then looked up to the Drykas then down again, assuring that she was looking at her wounds. "Don't touch them. They are just healing." His gaze lingered, confirming that she understood before placing one hand down to reach for her other. Repeating the procedure of removing the large pieces, then flushing out the smaller pieces of dirt with water, Kaveh continued to speak. "Tell me about the Drykas, I don't know much about the people." This answer he was interested in, though he wasn't sure how much information she wished share, let alone with her limited hold on the language.

[Naiya]

He returned shortly, dropping a pail of water at her feet before uncovering a chair of his own that he relocated to a space close beside her.

He reached for her hand, and she extended it to him, wincing only slightly as she did so. She regarded him carefully, watching him as he moved with a familiarity of action that spoke of much practice. He examined her arm first, and after a moment he surprised her by taking the time to remove by hand the larger bits of dirt from the wound. It was rather disgusting, actually, but Naiya found her interest in the process more important than the uncomfortable stirring of her stomach.

He was removing the dirt carefully enough, not really missing any, but he did so without the hesitation Naiya might have acted with. He seemed less than worried that he might cause her further discomfort, the occasional touch of his hand on her skin firm, but not rough. Confident. He moved methodically, working from the beginning of a scratch to the end, removing all the pieces he came across before moving to the next spot that needed attention. It seemed to keep him from missing anything, and quickly enough the larger debris was gone.

She realized, belatedly that he had asked her a question, and before she could process it and form her answer, he glanced up, offering a solution to the problem of the question she had not listened to. "I'm Kaveh." He informed her, and after taking a moment to process the unfamiliar sounds of what she assumed was his name, she gave her own.

"I am Naiya." She informed him, but further words were lost as she fell once more to watching him work. Rather than brush her cuts with the cloth as she might have done, he seemed to be content to wash the scratches with a pouring of water from the rag. She could see the effect of the cleaning in the dripping of water, tinted now both with blood and dirt, thought not nearly so much blood as she might have found had she cleaned her wounds at home. It was an interesting way to go about the task.

"I sew. Fix clothing and sell. Is boring. What are you doing now?" She questioned him in return, her gaze steady upon the patting movements of the cloth. Wasn't her arm clean enough yet?

He quickly began to elaborate, or at least to explain what he had done. First clean wounds with water. She nodded, accepting the knowledge as it came. He used a strange word then 'scab', which she did not know, but the words that followed made the situation more clear. When the blood hardened, she knew what that was, and now she had the common word for it, for scab.

He was looking at her with intent as he finished speaking, so she nodded, understanding the importance of the information he was sharing with her. He placed her first hand down, taking up the second one and repeating the process.

Naiya, having already seen it once, focused instead on her clean hand, ignoring the gently painful plucking sensation of the process beginning on her other arm.

"You ask of Drykas? Please, more specific... Before, you ask of tattoo, yes?" She grabbed a hold of the distraction of the question to pull her away from the churning of her stomach that came with the plucking sensation at her arm.

"Tattoo for Strider, Drykas horse. Is bond with horse makes a Drykas. Tattoo show everyone person is accepted. Before bond, is not total, not Drykas. Understand?"

[Kaveh]

Kaveh paused in his movements, meeting Naiya's eyes with his own.  "You don't tattoo the Striders too, right?"  There was a tinge of concern in his light hearted tone, his expression nonetheless interested.  The Chaktawe knew little of the tattooing process but he could imagine that for any sort of ink to remain on the skin permanently, it would have to withstand the wear and tear of everyday life.  To do so, he supposed the ink would have to go under the skin in some way, maybe with a needle or another sharp instrument, or perhaps there was a special sort of ink used that resists sweat and rain that could be reapplied.  Remembering the heavily tattooed skin of certain Drykas, he could only imagine how painful and/or long the process could potentially be.   

Thinking out loud, the healer continued as his hands restarted on their task.  "So...Drykas are like Rivarians then?  Accepting of foreigners - people not born as Drykas - so long as they can bond with a Strider?"  He didn't require a real answer, merely confirmation to what he already was beginning to believe as fact.  "What if they were Zith?"  He inquired, a slow grin parting his lips.  "Imagine a tattooed Zith on a horse." 

Finishing with her other arm, Kaveh gently placed her hand by her side before scooting the chair back.  Brushing away other pieces of clothing from the table, the Chaktawe revealed a small bottle of honey beneath the mess.  He would then turn back to Naiya with the bottle, and should she question the food's appearance, he'd answer.  "It helps keep the wounds clean and speed up healing." Then, reaching for her first hand again, he gently dabbed a clean finger into the honey before gently patting it on top the largest of the cuts.

"How about...what do the Drykas do for fun?" The Chaktawe's own interests were mostly leisurely, spending most of his time pleasure seeking and indulging, but he was well aware of how uncommon his lifestyle was compared to the rest of Mizahar. He lived in a relatively safe city guarded by the Akalak and surrounded by walls for protection. This was unlike most others who struggled to survive, let alone find the time to wind down. "I would think with the dangers of the Sea of Grass, there isn't much time for leisure."

He continued with the process until all of the cuts were coated with a layer of honey, with its thickness designated by the deepness of the cut. The honey would feel cool to the touch, particularly since the bottle was not in direct sunlight as the table was much too far from the window. Once completed, Kaveh replaced the bottle with a roll of gauze found on the table, likely leaving Naiya's arms in an awkward position as they were still covered in honey. Starting with one arm again, he wrapped the limb in a thin layer of gauze, just enough to prevent the honey from smearing on everything else. Repeating the procedure with the other arm, he then placed the roll back on the table.

"So, where else are you hurting or feeling pain?"

Grader noteI'm not sure how much a roll of gauze would cost since the price list only mentions gauze as a part of the healer's kit (50gm), so I'll leave it to the grader's judgement and then deduct the value from his ledger accordingly.

[Naiya]

Naiya shook her head, a vehement correction of what seemed a crude joke. "Striders not tattooed, no. People only tattooed." She reiterated, but didn't explain further. She would not explain the sacred position of the Striders among the Drykas to this man, this stranger, who seemed to know too much already. They were not like cattle to be branded, nor were they mounts to be ridden and forgotten. They were Striders. It was not for an outsider to understand.

Again she shook her head, disagreeing, though this time in a more mild manner. Foreigners were an odd topic of late, the decisions of the elders made in desperate times, it was all very strange. She had no answer for him then, besides her shake of the head, until he mentioned the bat humans, Zith, again. "Not Zith, never Zith." She intoned, the thought of one on a Strider, after they killed so many..

It brought bile to her throat and blood to her cheeks. Surely he made these comments in ignorance, unknowing of the chaos the Zith had rained down upon the Drykas. The pain they had left in their wake, the events that unfolded in the aftermath.

It was a cruel joke, or perhaps only cruel in ignorance, but she could not find the strength of words to tell him so. Instead she remained silent, looking on as he dug a jar of golden honey from a table covered, as everything else in the room, in clothing. She couldn't help the question bursting past her lips.

"Honey?" She asked, growing ever more skeptical of this man's claim of being a doctor. Surprised as she was by the substance, her question came out in Pavi, but her growing distrust of the man kept her tongue in check, not reaching for the common words to question him further.

Perhaps by the surprise in her posture, or marked across her face was enough to reveal her doubts, for he went on to explain the appearance of the sweet. "Is real? It cleans wounds?" She shook her head once more, disbelief in her posture, but tucked the information away for later. She would ask someone else, someone she trusted. A healer from the opal clan, perhaps, once they returned to Endrykas.

Following along those lines, how was it again that she had ended up in this man's room, alone? Under the guise of him being a doctor, but as he rubbed candy into the cuts on her arms, she wondered if he wasn't entirely crazy.

Though she must have been worse off to have followed him.

Perhaps she had hit her head harder than she thought?

He wrapped her arms in cloth, the material felt strange, stuck to her by the honey as well as caught on itself.

She did hurt in a number of other places, none of which, she decided, she wanted to tell the stranger about.

"Is good now. Better." She amended the statement. If nothing else she was certainly more coherent. Cleaner... Mostly. She shifted in the recently cleaned seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the situation she had placed herself in.

"I would like to go now. Go home, family is waiting." She informed him, her words careful.