PM to join [Khida] Behind the Strangeness of Your Eyes

[Aramenta]

The girl frowned, but it was a frown of though, not disappointment, her eyes glittered, and she nodded thoughtfully.

"Partly?" she raised her hand in less a gesture of Pavi than the somewhat universal gesture for 'so-so' or 'more or less'. She whispers the word "Friend," again in common, then nods,and says it again in Pavi. She emphatically keeps her face blank and emotionless and makes the sign in front of her simple, bland, emotionless, her hands rigid and almost mechanical.

Then she hesitates a minute trying to think how to explain. Finally in common she whispers, "Like that no... heart. No love?" She tries illustrating again, and says in simple, flat Pavi, "Livvy is my..." and pauses. Her face softens, and she makes the same sign as before, but there is a softening, a gentle flourish to her fingers, that speaks of closeness, private dearness. Reliance and trust. She makes a face while she does it to try to reflect this, her eyes softening, her lips smiling, and her brow relaxing: peace, contentment. And says the word again, while signing it, "Friend. Livvy is my Friend."

She looks around, thinks. "You --- er..." she points to Khida - its not really a Pavi sign, but it is clear, she hopes to an outsider, "You are my..." and she changes again, her eyes hopeful, her brows raised, her mouth slightly open with excitement and wonder. And she makes the sign again, this time with a certain verve and energy, a way of pulling the elbow sharply along with the movement of her hand, "You are my friend!"

Then she thinks again. "Lover? You know, word is lover?" she stumbles over it in common, "Like, you love with your body, not heart?" She points to an imaginary man beside her, and repeats the process, "He is my..." in Pavi. Then she droops her eyelid, and wrinkles her brow, her lips parting, her voice made huskier - the way someone who has clearly never had a lover might imitate the idea of a lover. This time she makes the sign again. She makes it more slowly, sinuously, her fingers having a fluidity to their movement, and the sign drifts all the way to the front of her pelvis teasing almost to the place between her legs, "Friend. He is my... friend."

She giggles hard at this, the silent movement warbling through her body, with the sign for deep humor tracing through the air in her hands beside her, involuntarily. "Do you see?" she says the words in Pavi, not sure if the girl will understand them, but she tries to make it clear, at least that its a question.

It as at this point that Livvy approaches, a leather sack on her shoulder. SEeing the rather risque sign out of the corner of her eye as she climbed up from the house, she raises an eyebrow at Ara, but says nothing.x

[Khida]

Partly, the quiet girl said, and Khida tipped her head, even as her hand almost reflexively echoed the 'more or less' gesture. A touch of surprise and impatience shadowed her expression in Ara's hesitance; no one else had given the Kelvic an ambiguous definition for a hand-sign before. Why should this one be different? The Drykas girl went on to demonstrate -- the same gesture, but stilted or flowing, even oddly questioning, though Khida wasn't at all sure how Ara managed to put a sense of hopefulness into the same basic motion. But no more did she unravel the specific differences in manner of a hawk soaring for delight and one questing for prey; she read intent from the whole ensemble. That this way of talking included more than simply gestures came as a revelation, but a sensible and welcome one. It wasn't that this gesture was different -- just that those meanings she had learned so far had been simplified. Khida bobbed her head to the quiet girl, a sense of satisfied understanding replacing her earlier uncertainty. "It is not like words," she replied. "Or... more than words." A wave of her hand, down and out, made no Pavi sign but nonetheless indicated much or more or all. "It is the whole thing." Gesture and tone and manner and posture: body language. That, the Kelvic could readily wrap her head around. Ara's bubbly amusement at signing lover, conversely, Khida didn't understand at all. She regarded the girl with evident bemusement, glancing briefly to Livvy as the other one returned. "...I know 'lover'," the Kelvic allowed, a bit dismissive of the subject though not in a repressive way; it simply didn't hold the same fascination for her as for the Drykas girl. Nor for Livvy, it seemed, as Khida turned to more fully regard her. If the gestures telegraphed more than word-meaning alone, then she needed to be what she wanted to convey. She didn't have a gesture or word for truce, but Khida let intention freely shape her posture and the two signs she made towards the second girl: friend, approve. Tentative, hopeful, conciliatory -- though never a hint of humility in her manner. Extending a figurative olive branch, more than petitioning for favor; it would be best to have the second girl's approval, or at least tolerance, if she was to be here learning from Ara... but Khida would do just about as well without.

[Aramenta]

Ara listened to the woman's response, and frowned, nodded. More than words was not... wrong. Just... such an odd way to think of it. To her, after all, the line between spoken and signed language was so fine as to be miniscule, and the lack of hand use in Common language was part of why she had never been able to pick much of it up - stuffing so much into the voice! But the woman's statement wasn't… wrong, per se. Just strange.

She leaned in again, and whispered in common, accompanying the words with her hands, "Yes… like… big words. Fat words?"

She shrugged, finding no better way.

Livvy for her part watched the woman's gestures of friend, half frowned, but nodded, signing back two signs in response: friend, tentatively, and a second sign, more difficult to translate, and likely wildly unfamiliar: the meaning of the sign was one give to end an argument peacefully, in the interest of higher things, and meant something like 'mutual reconciliation'. She paused a moment, then murmured, "Sorry," signing it with a queer flowing that signed simply respect, but that communicated by her body language something more subtle, subconscious: embarrassment, loneliness, frustration with herself. But she shook her head slightly, and brought the leather sack up on her arm, gesturing it to Ara.

Ara smiled at this, and took the bag. Livvy then took from under her arm a small, tight bundle of cloth: she unrolled it to reveal an undyed linen dress, very light, very loose, with a riding skirt on the bottom.

"Tried t'fin' something light for you - petch…" she stopped herself, realizing she'd been speaking Pavi, and switched to common. "I look and find you some clothes, thin and light, since you aren't use them? People silly about it, might get mad, you stay bare-skin, here." She paused, and started to roll the dress up to pull it over the other woman's head, clearly used to dressing others for them, and muttered, "This was my mother's."

Ara blushed, slightly at this, and met Livvy's eyes, signing a complex series of very fast signs - berating, gently, apologizing, mixed in. Livvy shrugged, and muttered back, "'sokay. Ain't nothin'. She'll take care of 'em."

Then Livvy stepped forward slowly, gesturing the dress to the woman, tentatively, to see if she would rather have it pulled over her, or dress herself. Ara watched, and wondered to herself if the woman had ever worn a dress in whatever naked-place she came from. She wondered if she knew how, and wondered how one might put a dress on wrong. Inside out, maybe?x

[Khida]

The axe-bearer regarded her, then gave assent -- a nod, an echo of friend, and something else which brought a mild frown to Khida's expression. But she decided not to put their tentative truce to the test so very promptly; the gist of Livvy's meaning seemed to come across, and she only nodded in confirmation. She turned her attention to Ara as the quiet one took the bag, not even noticing Livvy's second, smaller burden until the other girl shook it out. The long expanse of fabric couldn't be missed, of course, and Khida's attention blinked back towards her. The words in Pavi flowed by faster than the Kelvic could grasp at them, but Livvy caught herself before she could protest; though the intent of the dress' presence was rather self-evident. Khida nodded slightly as Livvy finally spoke in Common, though she didn't immediately reach for the garment. "Clothes do not shift," she remarked, with a shrug of those unacceptably bare shoulders. "So I did not bring them. I did not need them until here," she added. Khida held herself aloof as Livvy raised the dress, not exactly shying away now that she understood what they were about -- and more importantly, expected the action -- but not welcoming the girl to dress her, either. When Livvy hesitated, then stepped forward, Khida took the dress from her and nodded again. The flurry of signs between her and Aramenta were seen but not understood; they were also clearly private, and Khida saw no need to prompt for a translation. Instead, she gave the garment in her hands a quick examination, then slid it on over her head, arms finding the sleeves with habit which was rusty but still muscle-memory deep. Tugging the waist and shoulders down into proper line, Khida looked down at the dress for a moment; it hung a little more loosely on her spare frame than it must have on the one it was tailored for, but she didn't give that much thought. "This is good now?" she asked, echoing in sign: is approve. Both tone and motion conveyed more of impatience than a true need for their blessing on her dressed state. Courtesy came more belatedly, but with more sincerity, for all its lack of accompanying gesture: "Thank you."

[Aramenta]

Ara looked at the woman and smiled, nodded approvingly, signed in front of her for 'good'. She tripped forward now, childish and excited again, reaching up to whisper in the woman's ear, in her clumsy, broken common, "Where you living sleep and eat? You need place for things? Place for keep things? We keep them."

Livvy blushed and looked at Khida, a little uncomfortable, not frightened not now. The edges of upset. But subtle, and she swallowed it quickly down. She nodded a little, and turned from the intimacy of the other two women's onversation, and began digging through the little bag, drawing out a hook much like the one the bird-woman had fingered when they had met not long before. Canterfoot, looked at it, and patiently, knowledgeably settled on three of her feet, lifting her right forefoot. It was quite clean already, but there was some mud and dirt from her morning's walk embedded between the horny hoof itself and the soft flesh behind.

Ara heard this and turned, so excited to be so important, to have someone to give her time to, that she bundled over to kneel down behind the hoof, taking the hook from Livvy. She gently began running it around the crevice, pulling out chunks of dirt, mud, even a small stone that had wedged in.

Livvy narrated, quietly behind her, "Hook is for cleaning. Canter's hoofs get dirty, hook get them clean again. No clean, the stone cut, the dirt infect, hoof get sick, eh?"

Ara nodded and looking with all the naive pleasure of a child up at her new acquaintance, held up the hook towards her, with a hopeful smile. The other hand still wrapped around the horse's foot, cradling it.
x

[Khida]

The quiet girl leaned up to murmur in Khida's ear. To the offer given, she nodded -- though perhaps with a small misinterpretation of Ara's intent . "It is better if you keep it. But I will wear it because it is important to you that I do." That her words bothered Livvy, the Kelvic failed to notice, much less feel apologetic for; when she looked over to the other girl and the horse beside her, it was with no more than curious interest. Khida followed Aramenta over to where the horse stood, crouching down beside her. She glanced up to Livvy as her words gave meaning to Ara's actions, describing the problems which came with stones and dirt in horse hooves. The Kelvic did not immediately take the hook when it was proffered her, but leaned in to study the upheld hoof instead, reaching out one questing finger to run gently over the surfaces. "It looks hard and solid from the top, but it isn't really," she observed -- obvious, perhaps, but news to her nonetheless. Only after that did she return her regard to Aramenta, and take the hook she held out. Khida studied it for a moment, then reflected on how the Drykas girl had employed it. Carefully, she thought. Khida leaned in closer to Ara, thereby to have a better angle on the hoof in question. She rested one hand on the girl's shoulder for balance, expecting that she would remain still for it, then reached out to apply the pick's hooked tip to the other side of the horse's hoof. She drew it forward, then paused. "There are different parts to the hoof," Khida said; another statement of the obvious, but this time a leading one. "Here," she said, pointing to the outer edge with the hook, "and here," for the space in the middle, "and then in the back. I think this is softer?" she asked, referring to the back portion, and how it had felt under her touch.

[Aramenta]

ARa frowned, and looked at where the older woman pointed. Of course, the woman was right, there were different parts to it - there was the hard part, and the squishy part, and the in-between part. Despite being the daughter of a horse-breeder, and loving her own Strider with an almost desperate affection, the more technical aspects of a horse's construction were something of a mystery to her. She began to believe, perhaps, she should have asked her father to teach her more about them. She would, simply, have to do her best.

She did not move - she was young and nimble enough, and a crouch like this was a habitual enough gesture in a culture with a minimum of furniture, so she waited patiently until the woman had had a chance. At one point, she took her hand, and rotated it just slightly before she could draw it through the grove behind the horny forepart of the hoof, leaning to whisper.

"Keep straight, slow - not tear softy oarts? This part... this." she tapped the horny front, "It is like..." she reached to tap the woman's nails. "This..." she gently touched the soft rear of the hoof, "It like..." she tapped now, the woman's palms. "Hard part, steps, is hard, so soft part rest. Canterfoot," she spoke the name fluidly, in Pavi, "she get hard cut, eh...." she couldn't come up with the word for filed. "Shaping? Smoothing? Make flat. So she stand up straight-strong."

x

[Khida]

The quiet girl confirmed the different parts of the hoof, and that one was softer and needed more care, even if she couldn't give names to each. For her part, Khida didn't mind their lack so much; she had the practical information, and that was all she needed. Aramenta provided further guidance on how to use the cleaning-hook, even directing Khida's hand with her own; the Kelvic woman made careful note of word and action alike, nodding briefly towards her mentor. The connection of hoof parts to hand parts was not one she would ever have thought of, and after Ara pointed that out, she lifted her own hand to study it curiously. She touched her thumb against index finger nail, then folded her fingers down against the palm of her hand. Finally, she looked back at the horse's hoof -- which had no fingers, nor heel, nor any other feature that seemed a proper analogue to a human hand. But then, a wing never seemed to map to human hand, either, yet she knew it did, as only a shapeshifter could... She would think on that too, as on her instructions. Straight, slow, gentle. Don't damage the soft parts. And if the hard part gets cut, smooth it down. Khida nodded to Aramenta, then motioned towards the horse's opposite hoof. "I will do the other hooves, also," she said, letting the girl release the hoof which had been tended. Rising carefully, she glanced to Livvy, then stepped around to Canterfoot's opposite front leg. Then Khida paused, not at all sure how Livvy had signaled for the horse to lift her foot. Had she signaled? Tentatively, the Kelvic reached out to touch the horse's leg with her free hand. Something else occurred to her, another gap in knowledge, and she looked over to her two companions. "When you smooth a cut, what tool is that?"

[Aramenta]

Ara trotted around behind the woman as she went to the next foot. Canter looked at her, and she nodded with a smile. Canter snorted and lifted the foot for Khida. Ara leaned in aginst her and whispered in her ear, from behind, watching over shoulder.

"May round hand under hard part, eh?"

She takes the woman's hand and curls it, cupping the front of the hoof softly, not really supporting it, just giving herself control.

"Canterfoot know me, clean hoof, Livvy clean hoof, you hold like we hold, eh?"

She sits back on her haunches then and watches. "Tool? Smooth cut?"

ARa frowned confusedly. If the horse cut the pad of their foot, you didn't smooth it.

"Linen?" She gave up on the word for ointment, and said it in Pavi, then trying to pantomime it before realizing that was a terribly difficult word to pantomime.

Livvy coughed, and pulled the rasp. "Scraper." She said this in Common, then repeated it in Pavi.

Ara saw the rasp and nodded, with one of her queer, noiseless laughs. "Oh... I mix up. Yes. Scrapper. But no use, I show, but not use. That real horse fixer does."

She took the rasp and clumsily, with no real experience at it, showed the general movement, then held it up to reveal the rough rasping blade to the other woman's touch.
x

[Khida]

Khida cupped her hand under the hoof as was indicated, taking the hook and scraping it down the underside of the foot. She moved cautiously, pressed gently; there was little mud to be removed, and what did come off clung to the hook, still damp and sticky. She shook most of it off with a flick of her wrist, then a vigorous shaking of the tool, held down near the ground so the dirt would land where it belonged. Her question seemed to confuse the quiet girl, and Khida paused in her actions to look over towards the Drykas. Ara's first answer confused Khida in return. Linen wasn't a tool... at least in the Common she knew. "Linen is a kind of cloth..." the Kelvic said, frowning and casting a glance at Livvy in the hope the short-haired girl would be able to clear up the issue. Which she promptly did, to Khida's thankful nod, supplying yet another tool from her bag -- this one with a rough, rasping face. "Scraper," she echoed, reaching out to run her fingers over the proffered tool, feeling its coarse texture. Khida nodded to Aramenta, signifying that she was done with the example. Having said she would do the rest, Khida went on to the Strider's back legs, blithely unconcerned about crouching down within kicking range. This time, she tapped the horse's ankle to see if it would prompt her to lift the limb. Canterfoot's back hooves were not much muddier than the front had been, and picking the dirt from them was just as straightforward. When the task had been finished, Khida needed the hook no longer; she straightened and stepped around the horse to offer that tool to Livvy, who seemed to be the keeper of these things. "I am done with this also." A momentary pause, and then -- "Thank you."