We All Have Our Scars (Dravite)

[Kyo]

88th of Fall, 515 AV

He had gone back to where he had dug the hole. He had gone back and he had brought a knife.

It was Ramsay's, and his friend did not know that he had taken it from his pavilion-home. Kyo would give it back when everything was over.

The knife was used for what was called skinning animals-- cutting off their fur. It was curved and very sharp. It knew how to cut into flesh.

Now he stood in the fading light of day and let the heavy winter cloak fall from his shoulders to pool upon the ground. It was cold, snowing still, and the air stung his bare torso. He let himself shiver for a few long moments, then tried to make himself still.

The knife was brought up and turned in towards himself, pressed with two hands against his chest, over his heart. For a moment his hands didn't want to do it, they wouldn't let him go on, but then he forced them forward, and the blade cut deep into his skin. He bit back a cry of pain, digging the knife in deeper. Blood welled and overflowed. So did tears, which he wiped away with the back of one hand.

He did it because he was alone. No one felt this with him. His boy was dead. No one felt it.

The hole he had dug was the closest anything could come to understanding him. It knew the shape of his pain, even though it could not 'know' anything, being made up of just air and the cold and dirt.

And that wasn't enough. He had dug the hole to show on the outside what was inside him. But the hole he had dug would not last forever. He wanted it to, wanted it to stay as it was and always reflect his pain... but hadn't he also wanted his boy to stay? That had not happened. He knew that the hole, too, would go. Maybe when the weather got warm and the coldness holding the crisp edges in place had gone. Maybe the next time it rained.

He needed something else. And that was when he had realized. What was inside was a scar. What was outside should be a scar, too.

So he had gotten the knife and come out to look down at the hole and copy it into his skin. Then everyone would see, and maybe they would start to understand.

Kyo lifted the bloody blade from his breast and brought it back to drag out another deep line, connecting to the first. The hole he had dug was made up of many lines and edges, arranged into a sort of jagged, imperfect circle. That was what he would dig into his flesh.

But his hands were fighting him again as he raised the knife another time. Now they didn't just hold back-- they were shaking and his slick fingers kept trying to let go of the knife. He tried to tighten his grip, teeth gritted against the difficulty and the pain. Even though it was ice-cold out, sweat wet his brow and ran stinging into his already-watering eyes. He made a noise like a grunt and forced the blade back in, trying to do it right, trying to give the inner pain --something not exactly of the body-- a physical expression.

[Dravite]

Like a wolf he traversed the maze of the web, surveying his territory. The Blackwater Pavilion had been on the road for two days making a slow trip towards the winter grounds at a pace that made his very pregnant wife, Belkaia, a little more comfortable. Dravite liked to travel late into the night and let his group rest by the fourth bell and well into the day. It was easier to watch for danger during the daylight hours and as they were down a man, he took advantage of these little pearls of wisdom his mother had taught him.

The web was quiet; the Sea of Grass always felt different in the snow, it was easier to become disorientated and lost which was why Dravite frequented the web more and more, setting down markers with his signature knot-work, woven djed spun and set down like landmarks he could come back to if he ever grew unsure about the direction he should be headed.

In the stillness of the web, Dravite waited, reaching out with arms that were not his own to feel for the stray strums and disturbances its interwoven threads did carry. It wasn’t long before he got a hit and traced the thrum back to a lone man not too far from their current location. Confusion took him as he realised this man's presence was familiar to him, and alarmed by the blood he saw, stark against the too-white snow, he returned to his physical form to go off and investigate.

The watchman decided to take Bones, the red and white Coloursplash mare that had been with him for going on two seasons now. Her heavy sigh she released as he got up onto her back saw a smoky mist of hot air curl up and away from her flared nostrils, zipping skyward in the chilly morning air. They took off at a trot, Dravite demanding the mare gallop once camp way a quarter mile behind them. The horse was light on her feet and much more obedient for all the training Dravite had poured into her during summer and fall past.

As the neared the area he had ventured to in the web, Dravite saw to it that Bones slowed until her hoofs barely made a sound against the fresh and still falling snow, her exerted state seeing to it that the Kelvic man might hear the breathless snort of the mare before the footfalls of her hooves alarmed him.
"Kyo?" The horse lord mouthed as he slipped from the horse's back and ran through the snow to get closer to the lone man.

It might seem strange for Kyo to look upon Dravite in his current state of dress, fur lined pants, boots, and jacket covering skin that usually lay bare most of the season, even on a cold day. Beneath his open jacket he wore a woollen vest that he had gone as far as to tuck into his trousers.

Dravite couldn't quite understand where the blood was coming from that painted the Kelvic's hands, or why he was holding a skinning knife; it wasn't until he got a lot closer that he realised the young man's wounds were self-inflicted, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of the watchman's neck to stand at attention. "Kyo!" He growled, "Put knife down! Where Kelvic clothes? Man freeze, cold snow."

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[Kyo]

He heard something approach, heard the breathing, but did not look up. He knew it could be something bad, some predator, but somehow he thought let it come. Whatever it was would not stop him. He took the blade from the newest line it had etched and then had to clamp his fingers tight, once more, so they didn't drop the knife to the ground.

It was only when the voice called out, "Kyo?" and he knew that voice that he looked up from the ground. His eyes blinked at the one he knew to be Dravite, not understanding what the man was doing here. He tried to think if he had cried out loud enough for someone to overhear. But no, not this far out. The horse he thought he also recognized-- was that the one that had hit his head? It didn't matter. He turned to look back down, struggling with his shaking hands.

Even now they wouldn't lift from his sides. But this was different from before. He knew it was because Dravite was here, talking to him, telling him to put the knife down. It was much harder when there was someone else watching, though he didn't know why.

The first thing he said to the man was, "My clothes are here," blankly answering the question that he had been asked. He nudged out with one foot, and was surprised not to feel anything there. He looked around. He had wandered around the edge of the ragged circle without realizing he had moved, and his clothes were on the other side. Now he walked back, which happened to bring him closer to Dravite, and then picked up the cloak to hold it out to him. "It is cold out here," he agreed. But then he dropped the furry cloak, not putting it on.

He could feel the man still looking at him, and could feel the eyes glance to the awkward cuts emblazoned in blood on his chest. Or maybe he was imagining it. Either way, he tried to explain. "I need to make a... name." He did not know how to do what was called writing, but the shape of the hole in the ground was the closest shape he had to represent the name of the one he had lost. "Need to make the name here," and he forced the knife to move, to point at the place above his heart where it hurt so badly right now. "It hurts. Hurts in me. My boy is not alive, no more. No more no more." He had to stop his mouth from going on, from saying it again: no more no more no more. Instead he continued, almost casually, "You know the bond? For Strider? I hold bond in me for my boy. Bond no more, bond stop. It hurts hurts hurts. Ah. You don't know. So I make name here and no more no more."

He wasn't certain he was making sense to the other man, or making sense at all. Finally he just said, "I don't care if I'm cold, I need to make the name. Sorry. You... not stay? Can't... can't cut if you are here." That word, cut, seemed to choke him and he rolled back slightly, one hand leaping to his throat. Thankfully it wasn't the hand with the knife. "Can't help, help help." More nonsense. He shut his mouth again, and felt his body shaking.

No, he thought, stop. He tried to quell the shuddering as he had before, and then took the raised knife and pressed the curved blade back against him. But his hands would not move. He tried to rub the fingers of one hand clean against the flesh of his stomach, thinking maybe he could do it if he could just get a better grip. But it was hard enough to cut into his own skin. And harder still because he was not feeling so good with Dravite watching him. "Ah help help," he repeated, this time under his breath. Then jerkily he turned before he thought better of it, and held the knife out towards Dravite. "You can help. You can... cut. The name is here, the shape," he pointed at the hole in the ground. "You can help me."

[Dravite]

It seemed Kyo had come prepared though why he had chosen to strip down still baffled the Drykas Man; it was fair to say that Kelvic's had little issue with being half bare a lot of the time, but in cold such as this? Even Dravite was struggling to see the sense of it all. The crazed young man was all over the place, his words presented as confused snippets of babbling that left the watchman trying, and failing, to keep up.

On more than one occasion the thought of wrestling the knife from the man's hand crossed his mind but the way he rambled left Dravite convinced that he had been in the cold too long and lost his marbles as a result; he didn’t want to make a sudden move and have Kyo put the knife in his belly. It wasn't until Kyo mentioned the word bond, and Strider in Pavi that he really had the horse lord's attention. Suddenly his previous words made more sense, my boy is not alive no more, no more, no more; it was in that moment Dravite's heart sunk for Kyo and his loss.

But who was the boy and where had he gone? Had Kyo been a father, a brother, a friend? Bond, the repeated word had been clear; the Kelvic bond, he surmised, yes, he had heard of such a thing. A bond so powerful it rivalled that of the connection between man and Strider. Dravite let his tense hands unravel and fall at his sides, his posture changed, the knot in his brow smoothed out and he stood watching the bleeding man.

Kyo assured him he could not help only to later offer him the knife; he was asking Dravite to finish the shape for him, to make the name; one that the half man had drawn in the earth with his digging. O, the horse lord realised suddenly, "O?" He asked to make sure; what if Kyo didn't have a name for this letter? "Kyo," he said, stretching out the 'o' sound at the end of Kyo's name, "what was your boy's name?" He inquired.

When the Kelvic didn't look taken by the letter, Dravite looked thoughtful for a time, studying the hole in the earth before glancing up at the marks Kyo had already made on his chest. He scratched at the matted mess of hair on his head and brightened as a second letter came to mind, "U!" He smiled; that was more like, the hole in the earth a perfect representation of the symbol Kyo seemed to be desperately searching for, “Cup?” He made the shape of a cup with his hand; was this the right letter?

Dravite slipped out of his jacket slowly and folded it before letting it go to ground. He peeled off the woollen vest that was keeping him warm and set that down too, revealing the windmarks that decorated his chest and back. "Cree," he told the young man, moving his fingers down the front of his chest where the shape of his Strider's nose was etched into the skin, "Strider," he smiled softly, a half smile that seemed almost sad; his Strider was not traveling with him today but he understood the meaning now, the importance Kyo had discovered for himself of immortalising the memory of his boy in the flesh.

The watchman held out his hand for the knife and took it gently from the Kelvic before closing the gap between them. He touched the man's pec with his thumb tentatively, inspecting the mess he had made and the depth of the cuts. Dravite stepped closer still, and set his arm against the man to pinch the skin taut before raising the knife. His glance seemed to say 'get ready', before he cut a smooth line into the man's flesh, not quite as deep as the makes Kyo had started with; he knew there was no point in going much deeper than he had to.

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[Kyo]

Kyo was having a hard time looking at Dravite. At some point in recent days his mind had told him that his eyes were no longer good. A lot of him was like that, now that his boy was gone. Somehow this inherent badness extended to his sight, though he wasn't sure how. He just knew he could no longer meet other people's gazes.

But when the other suddenly seemed to understand --it was when Kyo mentioned some of the few Pavi words he knew-- he risked a glance up. Those eyes looked back at him, almost sad, almost sorry, and Kyo had to look away again and bite his lip to keep from howling out his misery so the other would truly know. He simply pressed a hand to his eyes, which nowadays always seemed to be weeping of their own accord.

Dravite seemed to have focused on the word 'name' that Kyo had used. Now he asked questions, as if trying to figure something out. "O?" he said, which the coyote-man took to mean, "Oh?" When he requested that Kyo speak his boy's name the coyote-man opened his mouth up but nothing came out. After a few moments he finally managed to croak "Ulric," but then afterwords could only shake his head. The name itself hurt badly. He couldn't even think it. Whenever he thought of his bonded now, it was always as his boy, nothing more.

But the other man seemed to come to some conclusion. “U!", followed closely by "Cup?” You, cup? He didn't know what that meant. He didn't know. Lost, so lost, he simply nodded his head, accepting the words whatever they meant. Dravite seemed to think what he was saying was right, and so Kyo, too, would go along with it.

Soon enough the man was shimmying out of his top clothes and showing the coyote the mark on his flesh that meant Strider. So he did understand, then. To make a mark that would last forever, because other things did not last so long. He nodded his head again, more definitely this time.

The knife was taken from his hand, and Dravite stepped closer. Kyo held still, the other man looking down at the ugly cuts in his chest. Bad as they were, they were not near bad enough. Not to match this hurt.

Still, when Dravite reached out with hand and knife to cut out another line, Kyo had to swallow a scream. He tempered the flash of awful pain with relief-- relief that Dravite had known what he wanted and was willing to do it for him. Relief because Kyo did not think he would have been strong enough to continue on his own.

On his own. Even with Dravite here he felt alone. Empty. His trembling was as much because of the loneliness as it was from the cold and pain.

His body, the part of him concerned with survival, told him to run away from the knife much as his hands had not wanted to use it on himself. He refused to shrink back however, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached. As if to hold himself there he reached out and gripped Dravite's opposite elbow tight with one hand. Blood --not as much as before-- rolled down from his chest.

All there was was to wait for it to be over. But when Dravite showed signs of drawing back, Kyo's hand tightened and he looked up to meet those eyes briefly again, face pale, freckles standing starkly out. "More." He would know when the pain was enough. The outside scar would match the inner one only when it superseded that pain.

Truth be told, he was not entirely certain that it would ever happen.

[Dravite]

The left wall of the letter was formed slowly and as Kyo took the man by the elbow his brow knotted and his jaw tightened; he remember the pain of his own markings having only just turned fifteen before the summer of the ritual. Tradition and pride seemed to outweigh the sting of the puncture wounds left by the biting teeth of the ink tool, and the tap, tap, tapping which could drive a man half mad. It had taken a full two days and nights, and well into the wee hours of the following morning to finish the design that decorated the watchman’s chest. By the time Dravite’s windmarks had been completed, two men were needed to lift and shake him out of the pain flooded stupor he had slipped into. The pain of traditional windmarking was so blinding, most men and women had their designs completed in stages over one to eight days, or chose to take on smaller patterns.

Some years later when he had undergone more tattooing, the markings on his back had taken less time and he was hardened to the pain; letting his mind go blank with the numbing of his swelling flesh. Cutting was a lot different, there was no escaping the pain once it was there and Dravite thought Kyo very brave for handling it as well as he was.
“Tell me about your boy?” Dravite inquired, he didn’t know what Kyo wanted him to add to the shape and so he tidied up the right side of the design so that Kyo’s cuts mixed with his own made it look like earth falling into a U-shaped pit.

It took focus and a steady hand to make sure both sides looked even and when the second line was done, Dravite lowered the knife, turning it in his hand to admire the make of the weapon, worried for Kyo’s safety; what if the blade was unclean? Even when he worked with meats he liked to heat his knife, so using it so freely on an actual person seemed wrong in a sense.

While Kyo spoke, Dravite summoned his horse nearer and set his wearing over her back before going through one side of the large yvas bag in search of a rag. He had the mare stand still, coaxing her backwards a little so that she would not intimidate the Kelvic. The horse lord finally found what he was looking for, along with the jar of honey he kept with him on the road; it would stop the bleeding for now and allow him to continue working while stopping any kind of unwanted muck from getting in.

After cleaning away the blood, Dravite covered the cuts in Kyo’s flesh with honey, smoothing it down with the pad of his thumb; again he started to threat about the deeper cuts and found himself closing a hand over the blood red Zibri horn worn on his hip. The horse lord knew the horn would heal Kyo’s cut to faint scars if the man were to drink, but something told him Kyo needed to suffer through this pain; to remember and to heal.
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[Kyo]

Kyo seemed to have come back to himself somewhat. He no longer seemed so distracted, no longer paid little attention to his surroundings. Maybe it was the pain that did it, burning through his chest like wildfire. Maybe it was the calm presence of another. Someone stronger, better than he was.

Still, “Tell me about your boy?” was difficult, and with the words some of that borrowed calmness faded put from inside him. Blue eyes, usually bright with interest, seemed to have dulled and hollowed as he looked down at the ground. A cold finger of wind ran up his back, but at least it gave him an idea of something to speak of. His voice was rough, hitching whenever Dravite did something to send more pain through him. "My boy... live in cold city. It snow there, freeze-cold. Not like here, here the snow stop, the city be warm."

"Boy... boy help me. I pup, come from bad place. Bad bad bad. Boy welcome me in. Name me Kyo. Make me... not only animal. Be great friend. Great friend. Great other. Help me belong. Help me speak like people. Help more, more, more." Now, in the ice-language, "He taught me life{all}." A pause. "Me with him, with bond, is good. Great. Warm inside. Fire inside." Aimlessly with one hand he tried to sketch happy. Ramsay was trying to teach him rudimentary emotive signs to flavor his words, among other things. Now came a coloring of tone with sad, even fear. "Without him... I'm bad. Cold." He began to huddle in on himself. "I'm freeze inside me, danger cold, danger hurt. I don't know to live without him."

The animation that had come into him while he was speaking now went missing once more, and he looked blankly down again. He had thought for so long that his boy was lost. He had not known that he himself was also gone.

Dravite had moved the horse closer, and though Kyo knew that the larger animal would be able to smell what he was, a coyote, a predator, he did not move away to protect himself. Dravite was wiping away the blood, touching the sweet-smelling sticky stuff to the wounds like he had done before to his head.

"Thank you," the coyote-man murmured automatically in Pavi, another of Ramsay's teachings. Now that it was all over he bent lifelessly to dress himself. He did not have a shirt, just the new pants and heavy winter cloak and detestable socks and boots, and so there was nothing to cover the open wound carved into his flesh. That was alright. He wanted it to show. To be open to the world.

And then he found he was dressed and done with what he had come to do. He looked back at the dark shape of the hole in the ground, and then admitted again, in a confused voice, "I don't know what to do." Dravite might take him to mean right now, but no. He didn't know what to do at all anymore. He had been with his boy since the time he was a pup, and could barely remember a time before that. When his boy had died, Kyo had gone on looking for him. That had been his mission, his what he was, his thing to do. Now that it was gone there was nothing more. He was nothing. Nobody.

But this was something he did not want to see in himself, so how could he think Dravite would want to see it? No friend --no person-- would want to see that in another. So the coyote-man simply said, "No worry. I stay here." And then again in clumsy Pavi, "Thank you. Sorry to make you cut. Sorry for you to hear my trouble. I don't want..." He shook his head, not going on, simply repeating. "I don't want."

[Dravite]

These Kelvics, Dravite thought, all seemed to be so in touch with their emotions which one might think could put a man at peace with the world, but the world was not so kind to these creatures; used, abused, slaves of men. Kyo was lost and the journey to find himself again was his and his alone, though what was a little help from a concerned stranger every now and then? Dravite took some snow in his hand and cleaned the blade before giving it back to Kyo. What the Kelvic needed, the horseman thought, was a purpose, something to keep his mind busy while he searched for himself again. Work often helped, so too did friends, family; a support network, but there was nothing like purpose to give a man meaning.

"Dravite have boy," he admitted, perhaps Kyo had come across his boys during his stay with them this fall after hitting his head, but he did not know about Löwe who had joined them later in the season.

Löwe had seen six summers. He was a restless, inquisitive, and shy young boy who did not seem to like playing with the other children in or outside of the Blackwater pavilion. He was good with animals and Dravite noticed how quickly he had taken to the hunting dogs, Meka, Kavu, and the giant Imperial Watcher they all referred to as Grim on account of his sad eyes and heavy muzzle. Löwe seemed like a man trapped in a boy’s body, he was more often than not serious and picked up new skills quickly; choosing to follow the men around camp to see how he could help rather than play like most children did. A distraction, Dravite decided, would be nice for him.

"My boy needs friend," Dravite explained in basic common; he had come a long way with the language this season, but still struggled with the little words that might help make his message clearer. "Boy, Löwe," he added, "need teaching," he recalled Kyo mentioning that his boy had helped him learn what he needed to get by. "Kyo need home, Kyo come with Blackwater," his hands made the signs for basic Pavi words Kyo may or may not have come across; family, warm, welcome, food, shelter, friends.

He worried about the Kelvic and knew he couldn't leave him standing about in the cold, but the horse lord wasn't the most persuasive soul. Still, he mused, it would be nice to keep an eye on the man's wounds to make sure they didn't go bad; blood poisoning was a horrible way to go, Dravite knew as it had almost killed him in the summer.

"Kyo like Pearl, will make wound clean," he told the man, "keep Kyo strong. Come, winter soon, winter cold; Kyo stay with Blackwater." Dravite had a deep tone of voice and though calm, he held an air of authority some found hard to say no to; in this case, Dravite hoped that was so, at least with Kyo staying with them he would be able to sleep better at night, knowing he hadn't left the man to freeze or be snatched up by something terrible that roamed that grasslands.

He got up onto his horse and offered the man his hand; if Kyo would not join him on the back of the mare, then perhaps he would give up his wears and run alongside, "one mile that way," he pointed with his free hand, though it was entirely possible the pavilion was already on the move again, "Long journey to winter grounds."

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[Kyo]

"Boy. Löwe," Kyo repeated numbly, trying to wrap his mind around it.

Here it was. A something to do. Kyo had admitted his weakness and grief, and Dravite --kind, generous Dravite-- had come up with a solution. Or at least a place where Kyo might make an effort. A boy needed help, needed a friend. Kyo was alone. Untethered. Hurting. He needed someone, too.

Then why did he feel so bad? Why couldn't he look up from the ground?

His relief at Dravite's offer was mitigated by guilt. There was a part of the coyote that had gone bad inside. It was morbid, almost rabid. It attacked him relentlessly. It blamed him. Told him that all he was good for anymore was mourning his boy; anything else was a betrayal. That part didn't care about making him feel better. If anything, it tried to make him feel worse. And it did.

That bad place was where the guilt came from. It asked will you forget your boy? will you abandon him again? will you replace him so easily with another? It reminded: you lost your boy, you left him and he was kept away by bad people and now he is dead, gone. so what will you do to this new boy?

Doubt. Doubt that he should be allowed to move on without the one he loved. Doubt that he would be good enough now for this Löwe boy. He pressed a hand to his chest before the flash of pain reminded him that he was already cut open. Taking his hand away, Kyo stared down at the blood on his palm.

"I... I don't know if I can. I want to--" And yes he did want to, he wanted friendship, he wanted a home, he wanted to help, "--only... only I fear I'm bad. I don't know if I'm a good friend for Löwe. I'm not strong. There is a bad place inside that make me not strong. My boy, what happened to him... bad people capture him. I look for him, I don't rest, only I can't find him, I can't free him. Can't help him. Is that what I have for you boy? What if I can't help?" What if he failed Löwe, just as he had failed another before?

"I want to belong with you Blackwaters. To have a home, pavilion. But I fear."

"I--" He pressed his lips together. He didn't know. He was very confused. He longed to go. He was afraid to go. But maybe Dravite would be smarter. Would think better. "You know. You see me." He held out the bloody hand, and the blade that had been handed back to him hung loose by his side, a culprit as much as he was. "Dravite... you want me to come with? You want me to come? I... I will. Only not if you don't want, if you see danger. If you see bad in me."

[Dravite]

The horse lord stared long and hard at the man, listening to what he had to say, his mind trying to make sense of the common Kyo used. Dravite narrowed his grey coloured eyes at the man and suddenly seemed far away, trying to imagine his pain, his search for the boy who had been taken from him. When he returned to himself he looked as if he had come to some kind of decision, "Blackwater make half man strong," he told Kyo, or perhaps promised it? "Kyo learn hunt, fight, protect," he explained as best he could, "half man learn weapon and riding. Kyo find self; Kyo find life."

Dravite had once been lost, had run away from home in search of a purpose when he believed that all was lost, "Kyo have family," the man said then, knowing that was what had brought him back from the edge when he had felt a darkness swirling within him many years ago. "Dravite trust Kyo," he offered; sometimes that was all a person needed, for someone else to trust them when they were no longer sure they could trust themselves.

A cold wind swept the plain and Dravite struggled back into the woollen vest his wife had purchased for him at the beginning of fall; he could not risk falling ill this winter with too many lives relying on his strength and ability to provide. As he pulled his fur lined jacket back up over his arms he smiled, thinking of the journey ahead of them; a few more days and they would reach the winter grounds and then the hard work would begin.
"Watchman need Kyo's help," Dravite admitted, "Endrykas winter unkind; dangerous alone."

With that he would let Kyo decide, raising a hand to point in the direction that his camp had been, one mile, his eyes seemed to remind the Kelvic without him speaking another word. Dravite nudged his mare forward and looked over his right shoulder at the wounded man before signalling for his mare to gallop; it was time he returned home, with or without the coyote.

Bones gave a defiant little buck of her hind legs before racing back towards camp, her legs having to work harder as she fought through the layer of snow that had dusted the earth and slowly built up during the day. Dravite pushed the mare to her limits, leaving a heavy set of tracks behind them that would be gone in less than a bell were the snow to continue; if Kyo decided to follow, he wouldn't have too long to make his mind up, though it seemed that was a decision only he could make.

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