It was a good thing that they were called back to work as Jasmine ceased to speak; Kaitanu had no clue how to respond to what she had just said. Like the girl before him, her father’s words cast his condition in a strange light. Glassbeaks, slaves and non-slaves… He could not entirely wrap his mind around it. Every past experience, everything he had been taught, all the lessons beaten into him over the years, butted heads against this new idea. It was something of a painful experience, one which sent ripples across the calm surface of his features. He was glad to have the excuse to turn from the girl so she would not see his confusion.
“Pray, excuse me. I must retrieve my master’s clothing.” Still it was ‘master’, and the garments were ‘master’s’, not his. Dravite would have frowned if he’d heard of it, but Kaitanu still didn’t understand that he was no longer a slave, and the clothing and shelter that came from the ankal was out of kindness. Even as he turned to walk back to the rocks, his thoughts disturbed by what Jasmine had said, Kaitanu had not yet made the connection between such ideas and the man who had taken him in. Dravite didn’t know enough Common to explain himself properly, but perhaps, in time, Jasmine’s words would serve the same purpose for both.
At present, Kaitanu was just trying to come to terms with what the girl had said about slavery, and about himself. She seemed to be talking not just of a whole other world but a totally different and separate person from himself. Truly, he had never heard such words as ‘kind’ and ‘shy’ and ‘happy’ applied to himself. On the one hand, they must be so if a freewoman said them; on the other, he felt she had to be mistaken. Obedient he was, beautiful he had been when younger; at least, to his former masters. Worse names had been applied to the pale kelvic, but he had taken everything in stride as he had been taught to do. However, Jasmine’s words about himself and slavery were starting to shift the cobwebs inside his brain. It was not in Kaitanu’s training to be anything more than vaguely philosophical. Now, he couldn’t help the questions that trickled through the new cracks around his shut-up mind.
Pulling on his clothes, Kaitanu went to grab a brush and a hoof pick for his next task. There were a few new horses that had just come in at the end of the noon meal, and these always needed a hoof check. Since Kaitanu could speak to the horses and calm them down more easily he was called on to settle in any new ones that might tend to be difficult. These were tied to posts near the main tent, which was where he headed at once. At the same time, Kaitanu found himself purposely looking out for Jasmine again, and hoping she would end up near him. Her sort of talk should have sent the slave in a different direction; he should have avoided her at all costs. The kelvic felt a divide within himself; wanting to ask more questions, and thinking it better that he didn’t get that chance. Already he was beginning to entertain thoughts that, if spoken, would have earned him swift and brutal punishment. That automatic fear made Kaitanu shut down. Almost. Jasmine’s words were like a whispered song in the ear; once heard nearly impossible for him to forget.
With a breath or two, the kelvic put these thoughts away for later and approached the first horse. He had a job to do, after all, and though new ideas fluttered around in the back of his mind, they must not break his focus. With soft whinnies of welcome, he approached the first horse, one almost as pale as himself. She seemed somewhat shy, but perked up with interest as he reached out to her, letting her wide nostrils breathe in his scent. Many horses reacted with surprise, mostly pleasant, when they found they could understand him better than other two-legged creatures. These were of the plainer kind, intelligent in their own way, but not linguistically gifted like Striders. The gray mare he approached first had a simpler way of speaking than Chaser, but she was clearly glad to find someone to ‘talk’ to. As Kaitanu gently stroked her neck, the mare told him of what she had seen on the trail, and of the large city she had come from. The kelvic explained, briefly, that he needed to clean her hooves, then let her continue and listened politely as he positioned himself to take one of the forelegs in one hand. Pulling it into position, he waited for her to settle her stance before using his fingers to pick out the larger pieces of clod and muck. Kaitanu had chosen the gray mare specifically out of the group as the most biddable. Once the others saw him work on her without doing any harm, they would be less likely to protest. Indeed, the others were quite interested to find a two-legged who could communicate with them, and perked their ears every time they heard him ‘speak’ their language.
“Pray, excuse me. I must retrieve my master’s clothing.” Still it was ‘master’, and the garments were ‘master’s’, not his. Dravite would have frowned if he’d heard of it, but Kaitanu still didn’t understand that he was no longer a slave, and the clothing and shelter that came from the ankal was out of kindness. Even as he turned to walk back to the rocks, his thoughts disturbed by what Jasmine had said, Kaitanu had not yet made the connection between such ideas and the man who had taken him in. Dravite didn’t know enough Common to explain himself properly, but perhaps, in time, Jasmine’s words would serve the same purpose for both.
At present, Kaitanu was just trying to come to terms with what the girl had said about slavery, and about himself. She seemed to be talking not just of a whole other world but a totally different and separate person from himself. Truly, he had never heard such words as ‘kind’ and ‘shy’ and ‘happy’ applied to himself. On the one hand, they must be so if a freewoman said them; on the other, he felt she had to be mistaken. Obedient he was, beautiful he had been when younger; at least, to his former masters. Worse names had been applied to the pale kelvic, but he had taken everything in stride as he had been taught to do. However, Jasmine’s words about himself and slavery were starting to shift the cobwebs inside his brain. It was not in Kaitanu’s training to be anything more than vaguely philosophical. Now, he couldn’t help the questions that trickled through the new cracks around his shut-up mind.
Pulling on his clothes, Kaitanu went to grab a brush and a hoof pick for his next task. There were a few new horses that had just come in at the end of the noon meal, and these always needed a hoof check. Since Kaitanu could speak to the horses and calm them down more easily he was called on to settle in any new ones that might tend to be difficult. These were tied to posts near the main tent, which was where he headed at once. At the same time, Kaitanu found himself purposely looking out for Jasmine again, and hoping she would end up near him. Her sort of talk should have sent the slave in a different direction; he should have avoided her at all costs. The kelvic felt a divide within himself; wanting to ask more questions, and thinking it better that he didn’t get that chance. Already he was beginning to entertain thoughts that, if spoken, would have earned him swift and brutal punishment. That automatic fear made Kaitanu shut down. Almost. Jasmine’s words were like a whispered song in the ear; once heard nearly impossible for him to forget.
With a breath or two, the kelvic put these thoughts away for later and approached the first horse. He had a job to do, after all, and though new ideas fluttered around in the back of his mind, they must not break his focus. With soft whinnies of welcome, he approached the first horse, one almost as pale as himself. She seemed somewhat shy, but perked up with interest as he reached out to her, letting her wide nostrils breathe in his scent. Many horses reacted with surprise, mostly pleasant, when they found they could understand him better than other two-legged creatures. These were of the plainer kind, intelligent in their own way, but not linguistically gifted like Striders. The gray mare he approached first had a simpler way of speaking than Chaser, but she was clearly glad to find someone to ‘talk’ to. As Kaitanu gently stroked her neck, the mare told him of what she had seen on the trail, and of the large city she had come from. The kelvic explained, briefly, that he needed to clean her hooves, then let her continue and listened politely as he positioned himself to take one of the forelegs in one hand. Pulling it into position, he waited for her to settle her stance before using his fingers to pick out the larger pieces of clod and muck. Kaitanu had chosen the gray mare specifically out of the group as the most biddable. Once the others saw him work on her without doing any harm, they would be less likely to protest. Indeed, the others were quite interested to find a two-legged who could communicate with them, and perked their ears every time they heard him ‘speak’ their language.
