In Search Of The Water [Japikoa]

[Nala]

Nala breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Better that it was something rather than someone. The last thing she wanted, after all, was for one of her family to have caught up already and insist on dragging her back to Yahebah and her parents. No sooner was the sigh out of her mouth than she looked just a tad embarrassed to have done so, but the Benshira recovered quickly as she continued to nibble on her lentils. "That would be better, yes. I'm not much of a hand at hunting and cooking... but that probably doesn't surprise you," Nala smiled ruefully at Japikoa at that. "I can learn," she promised, then. With a good teacher, she could learn. The first step would probably be to remove the bells.

She set the jar of lentils aside, then, pushing herself into a seated position to gently hold Japikoa's hands, her thumbs across the palms as she investigated the tips, fascinated. So that was how they did it! Eventually she lowered Japikoa's hands, then, still holding onto them with her thumbs, using them to investigate a little more, though now she was watching the Chaktawe's reaction to doing so. At the mention of the bells, she blushed a little. "I can take them off. I like them for dancing, but... not very practical for riding." Nala stripped off her tan, lightweight cloak, revealing the dark brown garments she wore beneath, exposing her tanned skin. And now, without the cloak... the bells.

Sweet Eywaat, the bells.

Her long hair tumbled free down her back and rounded shoulders, setting off each of the individual bells strung on many rings in her ears. Around each wrist was another string of copper bells, and each ankle, outside of the leather boots she wore. The ones on her ankles were somewhat muffled by her skirt and the shawl, but not by much. "I think I have enough to go around. Probably enough for two each," she grinned at Japikoa from under some of her hair, as a couple locks had fallen over her face. She tossed her head to move them, setting her earrings off again. "Are you from Tutsuwaat? Like, were you born to them? Or to another tribe?"

[Japikoa]

Japikoa did not mind when Nala touched her, searched her hand. The smile she wore was indulgent and patient, like a cat whose kittens were climbing all over her and pulling at her ears. Once released she simply folded her hands in her lap, muffling how many vibrations would assault her, trying not to be distracted. The obscene amount of bells amused her, as if she couldn't quite understand why anyone in their right mind would do such a thing. Perhaps it was simply a Benshira tradition. She had never before met a child of Biyram; maybe they all wore a hundred bells. She imagined the chorus of tinkling music each evening as men undressed their wives to make love, and giggled to herself. The question of her birth brought a fierce scowl to her face. "Hiyaa," she said, baring her teeth in a grimace of disgust and emitting a strange hiss of displeasure from the back of her throat. "The Tatsuwaat. I, I was not born to such soft people. A child of the Suli, am I, the clan of the vulture. They say were come out of the womb with our fists clutched, ready for the spear," she chuckled. "My father married me to a Tatsuwaat man, but he died not long after," she said with a shrug. "So now I am stuck, yes? And they know it as well as I, these soft people. It is why I travel the sands, I, instead of staying in my tent like a good widow. Better to serve the clan, though it is not mine."

[Nala]

"Tatsuwaat," Nala murmured under her breath to correct herself. Poor pronunciation, that had been, and direspectful, too. There was no excuse for it. Fortunately, the Chaktawe she was with hadn't seemed too annoyed at her about it. She listened with interest as Japikoa explained how things had come to be. She was glad she hadn't offended her with her endless questions. If she was going to let Nala hang around her for a while, then the Benshira was determined to learn and work things outso as not to cross too many of the Chaktawean customs. But she would have been blind and stupid not to see the differences between Japikoa and the two males she was with.

She was sympathetic to the plight of having been married and being trapped by it. "My family wanted me to get ready for marriage," Nala admitted as she nibbled on her lentils before capping the jar and putting it back in her bag, lowerng herself down to her side, resting one hand on a curvy hip. It was only fair - Japikoa had told her secrets, so Nala would share them in kind. "But I knew... if I stayed for it... then my chances of becoming a Raindancer would evaporate like drops of water in the sun. They do not understand. They are very faithful to Yahal. I respect him greatly... but I've always had too much water not to pray to Makutsi. My family does not understand that... and they're very devoted to Yahal. They felt my failure to devote myself wholly to Yahal was a mark of failure on them," the smiled faintly at that and looked down at her cloak a little before taking a breath and looking back up at her.

Her fingers spread out over her hips, keeping her wrist still to keep the bells quiet as she breathed. "So rather than let whomever they would match me with be trapped with a contentious, stubborn, disrespectful wife who would be unhappy with herself for not ever trying to fulfill herself and her destiny... and I left. I dropped my familial name to spare them the shame. Because even if I do follow my dreams to help the desert... they will be ashamed of me either way," Nala smiled a little at that, sadly. "But we'll see. Maybe one day, they will understand."

[Japikoa]

"It is good that you come," Japikoa said, nodding as she gave a bark of laughter. "The Chaktawe, we know the call of Makutsi. The women, we search for Her when we come of age, yes? For guidance, to gift us with our guardian." The words left her mouth without her even thinking about it - and then her face hardened, mouth pressing into a thin line, and she looked away and out over the desert. She hadn't spoken so of the Searching in years, and thoughts of it coated her tongue in bitterness. "It is good, I think, this dream you follow," she said softly, dark eyes still on the open wastes of the sands. "You are brave to leave your clan for it, and stronger than you look. But next time do so without the bells, yes?" she said, glancing over at her with a mock-stern expression. Then she chuckled, and waved a hand at her. "Sleep. Rest. I will watch the desert, I, and will wake you when it is time to walk the sandpaths."

[Nala]

Nala was about to question her some more about that search for the Goddess and whatever guardian she was talking about, but there was that shifting in Japikoa's glance that gave the young Benshira pause. So she didn't, just nodded, and stretched out, getting herself comfortable as the bells jingled merrily with the movement. "I'll take them off if you want," Nala smiled at her, resting her head on her cloak. Some of her long, dark hair covered her face, letting her blue eyes peek out. It gave her a shy appearance as she reached up to tuck those long locks behind all the copper rings and bells in her ear as she folded the arm that was on the ground, tucking her head on it.

And then she was chuckling. Nala smiled up at her, unsure if whatever mood had possessed her was past yet or not. She would find out eventually. She closed her eyes, and breathed. The tent kept the worst of the excesses off of her, deflecting the sun and wind and heat. Dimah rested and dried out nearby, lurking near the tent, well aware that her rider was in there. Not until she actually snuggled down to sleep did Nala realize just how bone-tired she was.

As she was drifting out to sleep, a few thoughts drifted along with her. Japikoa, quite simply, made her feel safe. There was something about the fierce Chaktawe that gave her all of the security she normally felt at home in Yahebah. Maybe she would kill her in her sleep and take off with her possessions and horse. But Nala didn't think she would - it had crossed her mind, sure, but who didn't think that about strangers you just met? She had dismissed the thought immediately. Makutsi, Nala felt, was watching, and had guided her to her for a reason. Nala had faith.

[Japikoa]

A few bells later, Nala would awaken to a gentle hand brushing her hair away from her cheek. Japikoa's oval face hovered just inches away, and a chuckle breathed across Nala's skin. "You talk in your sleep, you," she said, grinning as she peered curiously down at her. "Benshiran words, none that I knew, yes? You sounded lonely," she murmured, black eyes close enough to reflect Nala's face back to her. Fingertips slid across her cheek again, slower this time, and tucked a dark lock of hair behind the sleepy girl's ear. "Come. It is time to wake, and continue your journey."

[Nala]

Nala stirred when Japikoa spoke to her, and she yawned a little, curling up even more on herself at the touch. Nala's skin was soft and silky, despite the dryness of the desert - her mother had been adamant that the harshness of their environment did nothing to ruin Nala's chances, and many of those chances had been tied up in how well looked after Nala was. Her parents didn't intend to see her married into the more nomadic of their people, after all, but to be taken care of in Yahebah, preferably to an up-and-coming merchant. She may have only been seventeen, but that was well old enough to be considered as a potential bride.

One blue eye opened slowly, sleepily, before closing again, only to open them once more, taking in the Chaktawe so close to her. "I did?" Nala smiled a little up at her even as she blinked sleep from her eyes. "Sorry. It was Shiber, the language of the Benshira," the girl explained as she moved to stretch, the heel of her palm caressing Japikoa's cheek, the bells chiming gently with the motion. She rolled slowly, lazily, onto her back before stretching her arms over her head, arching her body, letting her curves rise and fall before lowering herself back onto her bedroll as she yawned again, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, nestling down for a little bit before getting into a seated position, the bells tinkling merrily with the movement.

It was time to keep going. They had a long way to go, if Nala was any judge. If they were going to make it to the Keerdash Groves by nighttime, then presumably, they had a long way to go. She got up, then reaching for Japikoa's hand to help the Chaktawe up, even if she didn't need it before stepping out of the tent with her traveling cloak covering and muffling the bells and protecting her tender skin as she stepped out into the sun. Dimah was there, recognizing that clearly it was time to start going again, and Nala went over her quickly with a brush before beginning to tack her, giving the blanket a good shake to make sure there was nothing there to irritate the mare's back, getting the girth secured before putting the mare's bridle and bit back in, her hood on her head. "Will you ride with me? Or walk?" Nala looked at her, head tilted slightly, prepared to mount up.

[Japikoa]

Japikoa found herself leaning into Nala's palm, and blinked when the hand went away. It'd been long and long again since she'd felt a kind touch. Not since she left her Clan, when her mother and sisters and she had piled together in their tent and whispered secrets through the night. She didn't know until she felt the warmth of Nala's hand how much she'd missed it. She collected herself as the Benshiran stretched and woke fully. Her confusion melted away as she reasserted herself, and a wry smile dented one corner of her mouth as she took Nala's hand and let her pull her up. While the other girl got her horse ready, she collapsed the tent and packed it up. They met again at Dimah's bridle, and she blinked at the offer. "Ah. No, I shall run. We'll make better time, and won't tire your poor horse." She waved a hand for her to mount up, patting the horse's shoulder before she started off. They began at a walk, Japikoa keeping her spear at the ready and a hand out to check for danger. Once the horse was warmed, though, she took off at a jog, skimming the sand with quick feet as her cloak billowed out behind her, keeping to an easy speed that allowed Dimah to set herself at a trot. It went on for hours like that, until the sun was halfway back to the horizon before she slowed. A moment later the other two men appeared over the next dune, and they exchanged a few words. "Have a drink," she called back to Nala, throwing a smile her way. "We continue on." After a few chimes' rest, they started again, all of them skimming quickly over the sands. Syna fell from the sky, and darkness fell an hour before they spied fires in the distance, glimmering red off the keerdash trees of the grove. Voices cried out in welcome, and the two men continued on to announce their arrival. "Welcome to the home of the Tatsuwaat," Japikoa chuckled, laying a hand to Nala's knee and smiling up at her. "Come. You must be tired."

[Nala]

Nala got her boot into the stirrup, then, one hand on the saddle horn, and with a deft push sent herself skyward and into the saddle as Dimah waited patiently. The muffled bells sent more than enough of the little vibrations into the air as the girl adjusted herself, her skirt, and her cloak, drawing the hood up over her dark hair. The reins disappeared in her long sleeves, and she smiled down at the Chaktawe before clicking her tongue, nudging the horse and flicking the reins. Dimah started off at a collected walk, and Nala got herself comfortable for the ride.

She kept an eye on Japikoa as she rode and when she broke into a run, Nala urged Dimah to a trot – the mare responded well, picking up the pace, her mane and tail streaming along. The Benshira, for her part, kept an eye out. She didn’t have any doubt that Japikoa would likely pick up something—anything—before she did, but she had a bit of a height advantage from the back of the mare, so maybe at some point the height would help. She didn’t see that happening, but one never knew.

She was relieved to stop. Dimah could go all day and probably the rest of the night before she became disgruntled, but Nala was not used to such long periods on horseback, but she would only slow them down if she tried to run along with Japikoa. Dancer or not, Nala was not used to running in such conditions over such a distance. It simply was not in the cards. It wasn’t happening. Besides, she knew that if she got down, she would have to be lifted back up and tied on. So Nala stayed on Dimah’s back, taking a few pulls from her water skin before tucking it away again.

“A little,” Nala admitted once they began to approach the grove, and felt a little nervous. She wasn’t sure how welcome she would be here, but she was with Japikoa. Japikoa was confident. Nala laid her hand on Japikoa’s, then, and then took it gently, linking her fingers with the Chaktawe’s before slowly dismounting. Her grip tightened even as the bells made a proper nuisance to the clan of nomads clustered around the Keerdash. Blue eyes glanced around, then, and she brought up a hand to lower her hood, doing her best to ignore the whispered Tawna and focusing only on Japikoa as she worked on making her legs obey her enough into walking. “Where do you stay? Where should I untack Dimah?”

[Japikoa]

She let Nala twine their hands together, and gave them an encouraging squeeze. "I am more than exhausted, I," she said, though she didn't seem to show it - her voice was a little more breathy than it had been, but she did not shake or limp the way some would have. She didn't seem to notice, at first, the way her clansmen were gathering to stare at the newcomer, the scouts' words surely spreading like wildfire throughout the camp. When she glanced down to see Nala's eyes gazing through the crowd, she looked up suddenly, a fierce scowl on her face as she caught what was being whispered. "Is this the hospitality of the Tatsuwaat?" she called out boldly, staring down the few who would actually meet her eyes. When no one else would, she turned back to Nala and hissed her displeasure as she had when they lay on the sands discussing this very tribe. "Hiyaa! Fools, the lot of them," she murmured, squeezing Nala's fingers once again. "Do not worry, you, what these might say of you. They will not cross me, these soft-handed people. You are safe with me. Come." She led Nala through the crowd, shoulders back and chin high, glaring at them until they parted and made room. As she passed one little knot of children, she snapped her fingers and called out to them, and they jumped to obey, smiling shyly at Nala as they came to take Dimah's reigns. Two of them unbuckled the packs and took off with them. The children seemed less afraid of Japikoa, looked on her with more worship than fear, and it was easy to see how the group of young boys might take to this fierce woman in their midst. "They will take care of him," she assured Nala, and simply pulled her off through the crowd once more. "Come, my tent is this way. They gave me my own, when my husband died. I think the Wayhali's wife didn't want me anywhere near the rest of her sons," she whispered with a roll of her eyes and a secretive chuckle.