Grief That Is Not Woe

by **Khida** on October 16th, 2013, 10:08 pm

The boy waited with bated breath, watching with apprehensive hope as the bush was investigated. When the hunter moved to hold the branches back, the boy gasped; when the dog limped out from its sheltering cover, he clapped his hands joyfully.

Khida just looked on, and felt her shoulders sag a little with relief. Good. They would be done with this soon. But then her bondmate turned back towards the brush, observing, expectant; though as she waited, as he waited, nothing within the thicket's shelter changed. Only green shadows waving faintly, and the dull humming of insect wings.

Outside, the boy scrambled forward, meeting the dog before it had tottered very far out at all. He folded down onto his knees with more haste than grace, petting the dog and being avidly licked by it in return. But he didn't stay long before bouncing back up to his feet. "Stay," he told the dog, and "Wait," he told the people, echoing both in sign; then it was off towards the fallen pavilion with him, no further explanation to be had.

Khida blinked in his wake, then looked towards her bondmate and the dog slumped to sit not so far from his feet. She stepped around the creature -- which paid her little heed, brown gaze fixated on where the boy had gone off to -- and came up by the hunter, giving the shrubbery a cautious glance. A light touch to his shoulder sought his attention. More? she inquired, sign sharp and quick. Trouble?

Dull sounds from behind them suggested the boy was after something in the rubble. It was however not very long before he returned, heralded by the patter of small feet on already-trampled grass, an overlarge pack clutched in both hands. "I think he can fit in this, if you help," he announced to the hunter, worrying the main flap open and peering down into it. "Then... I can take him... to my cousin's, anyway. Oh." There was stuff all the way down at the bottom of the pack, which he pulled out and shoved into Khida's surprised hands. "But not with these in it. Here. Now it'll work!" he declared, turning expectantly to his fellow Drykas.

by **Colt** on December 27th, 2013, 11:00 pm

The child lit up with a gasp, rivaled in sudden exuberance only by the dog that stumbled towards him. They greeted each other with familiarity and joy that radiated outward even without the use of sign. They traded pets and licks for a moment’s eternity, and then the boy was rising, bidding the creature to stay and asking the Drykas and Kelvic to wait. Bemused, but not enough to abandon his examination of the bush, the hunter gave no indication or agreement or disagreement before turning back to the object of his interest.

It was the indistinct, but nevertheless tangible feeling of presence that announced Khida’s approach, and he half-consciously leaned back to meet her outstretched hand before he turned to face the woman who was also a falcon.

… no? The sign was drawn and questioning, though it was not accompanied by danger or wariness. There was a mystery at the center of the bush, and as he gave it one more glance he accepted it as a mystery that would remain unsolved, at least by him. He was too tired to deal with bushes.

He eased from his crouch to take a seat on the dust, back to the shrubbery. The dog lay nearby, waiting patiently, and so Shahar assumed that the boy would return. As his thoughts became more free, they inevitably wandered back to the question that had been posed not a few minutes earlier, innocent in its passing and stubborn in its will to remain. Are you married?

He had little time to dwell on it, however, when the boy returned from wherever it was he had gone, a bag in hand. He didn’t wait for Shahar to respond to his question before dumping the contents of the thing into Khida’s hands, leaving both surprised and Shahar a bit bemused. The boy held out the now-empty bag expectantly, leaving the older Drykas to glanced back and forth between the container and the dog. It wasn’t a large dog, not really, and he could see how it would fit, but getting it inside would pose a problem, with all of its injuries.

Shahar reluctantly held out his arms in invitation, and the dog came towards him without a fuss. The hunter patted its head, then gingerly curled one arm underneath. The dog let out a pained whine when it was lifted from the ground, but though the beast struggled in his arms the hunter did not let go.

The child opened the bag wide, and while it was a bit of a puzzle to get the dog into the thing, the task was soon completed. The boy lifted up the bag gently, snuggling his face into the distressed canine’s, and with a signed thank you was off again, and Shahar was fairly certain he did not intend to return again.

This left the two adults alone, and for Shahar, that silence was weighed heavily with thoughts. For a moment, he simply remained standing, churning over the musings that had sprung forth from the words of the child.

Then, finally, his thoughts took the form of a question. “Khida,” he said, hands thoughtful, “you know ‘marriage’?”

by **Khida** on January 26th, 2014, 1:09 pm

No, he signed, in a manner which seemed uncertain. But not uncertain in a way that suggested need for caution, so Khida simply nodded and settled her feet to wait. She wasn't left waiting long, the boy coming back in a burdened hurry. A burden he promptly alleviated by shoving the contents of the bag he'd recovered into her hands, leaving the startled Kelvic struggling to keep hold of them all. A waterskin, empty and limp as the ruined tents beyond; that was easy to hold. A thin reed bag barely large enough to hold whatever was in it, pieces making an odd bulky shape her fingers didn't want to fit easily around. A long, thin knife of the kind used at table; two other small, rough-edged things which shortly slipped between her fingers and thudded against the dusty earth below.

Khida stared down at them for a beat, then stuffed what she could into the sash about her robe. Only then did she lean down to reclaim the dropped things -- a chunk of stone, a small bend of dark gray metal. Those she kept in hand as she rose, finally turning to watch the hunter coax the dog's injured form into the now-empty pack. It wasn't until the boy signed heartfelt thanks and started off, too preoccupied to even glance her way, that Khida realized he didn't want all the things she held at all.

The hunter stood silent, and so did she, frowning down at the bag in one hand and the bits of ore in the other. Apparently they were hers now by default, if she wanted them; the Kelvic wasn't sure she did. Inertia tucked the flint and steel into her sash just like the rest, leaving only the bulky bag in hand; inertia kept it there, as she sensed the hunter's attention sharpening upon her and turned her own towards him.

Marriage, he mentioned, a word which recalled to Khida a long discussion with a Drykas woman. Marriage, and mating, and bonding; she had come away only more affirmed in her perception that marriage was for producing children. But although claiming the knowledge was easy, a matter of a single well-used word, she mulled over concepts and vocabulary for some time, trying to fit them all together.

Her Pavi didn't come anywhere near the mark, but those were the words which came to her tongue regardless.

"Marriage," she echoed, free hand sketching an assured yes. For all of that assurance, though, her spoken words came haltingly, hampered by her unthinking choice of language. "Two together, man, woman. Being family. Have... foals, together," she concluded, remembering that the boy had also translated that word as 'baby' -- even though he had used it in the context of a horse and not human children.

Khida frowned over her own choppy explanation; even she found it... lacking. She still needed so many more words.

mod noteSalvage previously approved by Gossamer, to outfit Khida with starting package-equivalent materials. Items obtained:
1 waterskin
1 toiletry set
1 eating knife
1 set of flint and steel

by **Colt** on August 4th, 2014, 4:42 pm

“Marriage,” she replied. Shahar let out the ghost of a chuckle at her use of the word “foal,” although the analogy she provided was enough for him to understand that she understood.

Yes, he signed. “Before… at the beginning of summer. Summer-start. Ankhals say all men…” he made a general gesture towards himself, one meant to convey those same gender, male. “Must marry. Before summer-end.”

He, too, found himself frustrated over his own lack of words, knowing that Common was a language that he did not have anything near a proper grasp of. His posture held frustrated, lack of words as he tried to find a way to make his point clearer.

“Marriage,” required, necessary. “Needed?” No, that wasn’t quite it, even when he added lack of choice to the word. I must find, “Need look, marriage. Wife. Woman?” Frustration at self.

In truth, the concept of marriage was one that even he was not fully familiar with; only in passing remarks by others had he gathered his own knowledge, and he had no personal experience with the matter. He had never been close to marriage or seen exactly what it entailed, but he knew well enough that it was something he had to do. If it meant that he had to figure it out along the way, then he would.

“I seek,” he said in both word and sign, “I ask… you, Khida. For marriage.” His hands were unsure as he spoke, both with himself and with marriage in general. He didn’t know what exactly he was asking for, but this was Khida––Khida who he loved, and who he trusted more than marriage.

by **Khida** on August 5th, 2014, 9:38 am

Marriage necessary, he said, and though she didn't understand all the words he explained with, that concept communicated clearly enough. There was a familiar sense to it, an echo of something she had been told before; the full social context eluded her, but Khida nodded as he stumbled through the words, reassuring against his frustration. Confident despite her own brand of ignorance, because knowing -- why marriage was necessary, what Drykas marriage meant, what he expected from a marriage... what did all that matter, anyway?

It didn't.

Khida stepped in closer to the hunter, dropping the bag as a thing in the way. Inwardly, she reached for Pavi, but it didn't come, not deliberately; her words were too few in that language, and they slipped through her grasp like darting fish. Reassurance communicated in posture alone, and in the steady strength of their connection, unmarred by even a moment's hesitation. But it was Common she spoke in, slow and careful, attempting to pick her way through words he might follow.

"You are my bondmate," Khida said softly, reaching up to lay her hand over his heart, regarding him steadily. "What is... marriage... to that?" Her free hand reached for his own, and she nodded. "Yes. Yes. I will be wife if you need wife. I will be mother if you need mother. I will be whatever you need me to be. You..." and there words failed her, as she grasped for something understood but not verbalized, something too vast and profound to be easily boxed up in language. Frustration followed, briefly, but not with him.

Simple words. Small words. They communicated so little, sometimes -- but he would understand anyway. He held her love, and her trust, and a commitment as deep as the grasses were wide, and even that was too small to say everything. "We are family. Bonded. Together." He would understand all that mattered. She had no doubt of that.

Hunter. Watcher. Guardian. Wife. That one of these roles might not be quite like the others, the Kelvic could not even fathom -- for to her, here and now, they might as well be all the same.

Common | Pavi | someone else

by **Colt** on August 13th, 2014, 9:43 pm

Khida stepped forward, reassurance echoing through her posture and through the bond between them. There was no hesitance, no sense of second thoughts, only a calm conviction that drew Shahar away from his worry. She came close, placing a hand on his chest, over his heart, and voiced her response to him in Common. Her words were slow, and Shahar could pick out enough of them to understand what she was saying––and even if he hadn’t, the feeling that moved between them was clear.

What could marriage possibly bring that was deeper than what they already shared? Amongst the uncertainty and confusion of what exactly it was that they had to do, that knowledge was one that filled him with a sense of confidence; no matter what marriage meant to his people, there was nothing it could do to change what was between Shahar and Khida.

Family, he reflected, posture thick with conviction, inclusion and correctness. Because they already were family, and marriage would not change that.

“Khida, you and I… we...” together, wholeness, already. “Marriage is strange to me. Strange. But bondmates, known.” Power, deep love. “I be husband to you, as you be wife to me.”

He placed his own hand over hers.

“I love you, and will always love you, as bondmate, and as husband. As family.” Always.

With his final sign, something seemed to shift in the air. It wasn’t obvious, just a small sense of change, and the inexplicable feeling that something was about to happen.

Which, a moment later, was exactly the case.

It was a peculiar sensation that sprung up on Shahar’s neck, although it was neither painful nor irritating. It was warm, and there was an odd sense of movement even though Shahar knew that he had no muscles there to move in such a manner. It began as a small pinpoint of sensation below his left ear, although within seconds it was growing and spreading, carving pathways over his neck that hovered just over the threshold of tickling.

Though he wasn’t alarmed, Shahar was certainly surprised, and his hand found its way to where the sensation had appeared. There was something there, he discovered, something raised and smooth that felt somewhat like a scar, although there was no discomfort when he prodded it curiously. There was a pattern of some sort, and he ran his fingers over what felt like a curling V shape. Wait, was this…?

Shahar halted as the sensation disappeared and realization overtook him.

“Chevas,” he breathed aloud. It was a Chevas mark.

by **Khida** on August 16th, 2014, 11:05 am

Conviction. Intensity. Truth. It rang through their bond; the echoes in posture, expression, voice were but afterthoughts. Khida smiled happily at the hand over hers, at the vow which echoed her own, at the promise of togetherness -- a promise made once before, but now reaffirmed and strengthened. This, just this, was all she needed in the world; and though she had no doubt in their mutual commitment, not the slightest wavering of faith, hearing it spoken struck a deep and powerful chord.

Preoccupied with what lay between them, Khida didn't notice something else was going on until the hunter raised his hand to his neck. Then she realized hers tingled as well, in a warm and... not quite alarming, however unexpected... manner. Her hand started up towards her own nascent mark, but shifted mid-course to dislodge his so she could see what was going on with him. Four lines revealed themselves to her eyes, slightly raised beneath the gentle brush of her fingertips. They gleamed almost like metal, greenish and golden and brown; three sharp lines and one curling, their shape a little like grass, a little like wind, a little like feathers.

Chevas, he said, and Khida understood. So much as she understood marriage at all; but vows had been made, witnessed, consecrated, and that was the essence of marriage. Sorrow had hung over Endrykas in the days after the Zith attack -- sorrow for the ruin, sorrow for the lost, a grief pervasive enough to touch even one who was not Drykas nor Human. But here and now, there was no room in her for melancholy, for those ruminations on the city or the people or the beasts which had seemed never far from her thoughts. Now, she knew only joy in wholeness, a satisfied, happy smile again curving her lips.

Always, the Kelvic affirmed, reaching up to brush her fingers through the hunter's hair as if it were feathers she could preen.

Common | Pavi | someone else

by **Ssezzkero** on April 26th, 2015, 3:09 am

Grades

Well, Golly me. I always love reading romantic threads, and especially when the PCs actually fit well together. This was actually quite beautiful, especially towards the end.

If you have any questions or concerns, PM me.

Khida

XP:

Lores:

Loot:

Marks: Cheva

Notes: Don't forget to edit your post in the request forum as 'Graded'.

Shahar

XP:

Lores:

Marks: Cheva

Closed Grief That Is Not Woe