Flashback To Know is Bliss/My Savior Comes: pt IV

[Delani Denusk]

Timestamp: Summer 20, 512

Syna's coming up again. How many days has it been now? At least a week. I have seen her rise and set that many times, surely.

The Drykas sat on the floor of the wagon near the entrance, peeking out at the sunlight breaching the barely glimpsed horizon of the small clearing they were in. They had not moved so far as the Drykas could tell since she had been rescued thirteen days prior. Better food and water than she'd had in weeks and proper medicine to set her to healing in hand and shoulder (and body) alike had been wholly rejuvenating for the older woman as she peered at the beautiful rays that cast the sky a stunning red and orange.

Of course, Delani knew what the stained sky would mean: there was a storm coming; it could hit them where they camped, or it could swing away from them, but certainly somewhere on the plains, foul weather was coming. It made her wonder if these strangers who were helping her knew how bad the weather could be. Would they be ready when the rain arrived? Their location felt like a low-spot in the terrain; it could flood and sweep them all away into the jaws of some crocodillian lurking in the streams.

Don't be ridiculous, Delani. You know the River is far behind you now. Days travel, at the least. If we are to be flooded, we would likely be caught by one of the snakes or velispar. The glassbeaks are sure to shelter for a period until what rains there may be let off.

She let the flap of the wagon fall back and peered around to where the elder slept on her cot, snoring quietly. Kyanapa had proven an interesting figure to talk to, even if her common was horrible, making communication between the two even more difficult. At least Loktupar was more understandable. His common was intelligible, thankfully, and translation easier. Her eyes drifted away and around the rest of the silent wagon, eventually coming to rest upon her bandage-bound hand and the sling it rested in. Though the sling had been padded wtih some spare fur-strips, the pressure on it still hurt and often, Delani would slide it out just to lay it in her lap. Her shoulder no longer hurt as much, thankfully, and with activity in the wagon non-existant while Kyanapa slept, the woman decided she would slip out on her own instead of waking her to relieve herself. How she would get back in, well...that battle would be faced once she returned.

Scooting to the lip of the wagon, Delani carefully extended her legs through and pushed the canvas flaps aside and behind her. Then, with one hand on the sturdy cart, she lowered one foot down, careful to reach the first step before putting any weight forwards. This was followed by her other foot, and then again to reach the ground with the first foot, after which she straightened, gingerly rubbing with her palm the sling-bound hand.

Delani then roamed slowly from the cart, her gait still unsteady at times, wavering one direction or the other and thus reminding the Drykas how far she still had to go before reaching full health again. Making her way to the communal latrine (really nothing more than a hole that had been dug into the spongy soil of the location [further making Delani wonder how safe the spot would be if it flooded; the spongy soil would only be able to absorb so much water before flooding...] and hidden behind a hide of deer that was stretched between two sticks. It was no different, honestly than anything the Drykas used.), the woman paused only to note the pair of exhausted Watchmen that had been placed to keep an eye out for anything that could make a lunch of the traders.

Vigilance will be rewarded, one day. She thought as she slipped behind the hide, lowered the fading trousers she wore, and squat to do her business. Someone had been courteous enough to leave a pile of fern leaves for use, a couple layers used for herself before she straightened awkwardly, pulled her britches up, and stepped from behind the blind in order to head back to the wagon.

x

[Praetorian]

With each passing moment, Loktupar found himself growing more anxious. The storm was coming, hard and fast, but he knew not its course nor where its enormous, gray bowel would be emptied. He could, if he wanted... But if he touched the threads of chavi again, what he would see only a short while down the thread would drive him mad. Either way, he began to make his way through his camp, alerting people to the storm and telling them that it was time to move. Even if he could not avoid the storm entirely, they were in the wrong place for any sort of wet weather. Yes, the basin was good for keeping the horses close, but it would become a danger when the rain came. The last wagon he visited, for the old crone disliked being near the noise of the caravan, was Kyanapa's wagon. Abruptly, he was not alone. Paces ahead of him walked the stranger, Delani of the Denusk. He watched her walk for a chime, surprised at the progress she had made. When she suddenly looked on the verge of stumbling, of falling into the dirt, the Chaktawe rushed forward and looped one strong arm around her slim waist in order to help steady her. "You walk like an old woman," he commented with a smile, eyes still fixed upon the thunderhead. Through his sensitive fingertips, he could feel the strength of the woman's heart as it pulsed through her skin, and it brought him an odd sort of joy. He had saved this woman's life. "Will you stop your bumbling and come help me hitch this horse?" Kyanapa's angry, scratching voice cut through the plain's eerily still air like a rusty knife. Loktupar averted his eyes and was surprised to see the old woman attempting to get her horse to the wagon all by herself. As if it had inherited its master's temperament, the horse seemed intent upon doing what it wanted. Replying likewise in their native Tawna, though he felt bad for keeping their guest out of the loop, Loktupar assured the old woman that he would be there to help her in a moment. Silently, though, he wondered how she knew what he was coming to tell her. Then again, those storm clouds were likely signal enough. After helping Delani to the wagon, Loktupar went about pushing and shoving the stubborn beast until it was anchored to the wagon. Russet skin ever so slightly glistening from the exertion, Loktupar returned to the Drykas. "You know these lands well, yes? You will help me lead the caravan to a safer camping ground," his words were kind enough, but held the silent energy of one used to commanding others and being responsible for their lives. "Come... You can ride my horse." His tent was already packed and loaded onto the small cart that was pulled by his beast. All that was left was to give the caravan that it was time to move. Smiling slightly, as if that would soften the iron in his command, Loktupar offered the slight woman his hand.

[Delani Denusk]

Her exhaustion nearly saw her tumbling back to the ground before an arm caught her around the waist, making the woman jerk slightly and turn to peer at the one who'd caught her. It was the commander of this entourage, Loktupar, his ebony eyes a strange pool of awareness that bordered well beyond fascinating and chiseled its way into interest. They reminded her of the slick-surfaced pits of the pools of Vayt, like ink. His quip at her walking ability made her scowl, if only for a moment at him.

"I walk as a woman who's been walking sick for the last season." The strange tongue of the Elder whose wagon she shared halted the conversation, Delani following them to the stubborn beast that refused to heed its attendant. A stubborn gelding. The Drykas tisked beneath her tongue, smiling inwardly as they tried to wrestle the thing into its yoke. "Encouragement works better than force, I've found." Delani chimed in, stepping up beside the Chaktawe and taking the bridle in her usable hand. The lormar glinted in the morning light as she urged Loktupar away from the beast, nodding that he should help hitch him while she held the gelding in place.

Though she could not sign the way she otherwise might, the Drykas spoke low and soft in Pavi to the horse, rubbing the bridge of his nose with her thumb. "Hey and ho, lad. It's time to ride so you must fill your role the same as the rest of us. Hold fast now...Good boy, good boy. Such a fine boy you are, almost done." Her jade eyes drifted beyond the beast as the two worked to finish hitching him. The gelding had quieted; she may not have been the most proficient rider in the clans, but every Drykas knew how to handle a horse. It was as much part of their blood as the grasslands were. "I will see if they will let me bring you an apple when we have left here, for such fine cooperation as you give. Good boy...and they're done. Hold fast, pull hard."

The woman released his head afterwards, patting the horses cheek then turning to the curious observation she received. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, simply replying, "I am Drykas; we know horses.". She followed Loktupar to the mount from which he demanded she lead them to a safer spot.

"If what you've told me of our whereabouts before are correct, we're a few days out from the Arale and the same from Lari Lake. Unless that Hai-wrought storm has altered it somehow, there's some hills to the east and north that should provide enough high ground and shelter to guard against the storm; it will break the winds if they grow too fierce." She explained, approaching the horse as they talked. When Loktupar offered his hand, Delani considered it silently, then smiled, shaking her head. "Just give me a knee." She asked of him, stepping beside the beast and reaching for the base of his mane. The obscenity that was a saddle was eyed with disdain, the woman remembering her yvas in the wagon Kyanapa controlled. It would have been much more preferred (and more comfortable), but this was not her strider, not a horse of the Drykas. A saddle would have to suffice. Clutching the handful of hair, she used the man as her step up, teeth gritting at the effort to mount one handed. Her shoulders tightened and her forearm threatened to cramp as she swung her leg over the horses back, leaning over to breath heavily into its neck. Her eyes had clenched shut for the moment as she cradled her sling-bound hand to belly, willing the pain away. Gods be praised it was not her legs that were injured; still, Delani made a mental note to not refuse assistance in that sense again. That hurt, and she hadn't even used the hand!

Straightening once the throb dulled enough for her to speak, she said, "Depending on what I can see once we hit a high point, we could reach it in a few bells; maybe more? I can't be sure. The fever kept me lost more often than found."

x

[Praetorian]

Once again, Loktupar saw an unwavering strength within the woman before him, one that made him smile the small, sad smile of one who had seen many face a challenge and fall beneath it, eyes sparkling with wonder. She had faced innumerable days alone upon the plains, body failing her. Even the Chaktawe doubted that he would have been able to remain sane through such an ordeal. And yet, here was Delani, giving him advice on where they should set up camp. Shaking his head once again, the caravan's youthful leader meandered back to his cart and retrieved a large horn, hollowed out with the tip cut off. After inhaling a deep breath, he pressed his lips to the missing tip and blew hard and loud, making the valley echo with its low bwaaaaaaaahn. There was a ruckus as people leapt into wagons, onto nickering horses, and began to follow the woman upon the enormous gray beast. Loktupar took the reins from Delani, fearing that if his horse was startled, her injury would keep her from being able to handle him. Without a word, he led the horse up the embankment that allowed them to exit the depression and then over to a small ridge, stopping at the top. "Now, where should we go?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

[Delani Denusk]

For all of the troubles the Denusks seemed to have, no one could ever say they were not strong. Even as one died, the survivors persevered, their preternatural resilience inspiring more than discouraging. Delani was a model of that.

Relaxing her grip on the horses mane, she smoothed the grabbed hairs out and looked to Loktupar as he let loose the bellow on the horn, her brows raising curiously. Around them, the group began to break camp, her gaze moving across the dozen or more individuals as they clamoured to strike camp, hitch horses, and mount up. It was organized chaos, and for a moment, it reminded her of home and the regular routine of dawn and dusk as tents were raised and lowered, horses readied, and things packed away for the days travels.

Far on the horizon, the crimson had begun to soften into a dark and ominous gray as the sun rose above the cloud line. It was sure to be an unpleasant storm, though couldn't compare to that which crossed the region when Spring started. The woman lifted her head slightly, eyes closing and nose pointed into the wind. The thrust of warm air brought with it the smell of rain and dirt pushed ahead of the storm. It was a mild outflow right now but how quickly would that change?

Letting Loktupar lead the horse, Delani kept her senses tuned around them, passing a warning to the dark-eyed leader to beware of cats. Leopards and lions were some of the dominant predators in the grasses, though they always paled to the glassbeaks. She warned to beware of olidosapux as well, the large rhino-like herbivores often territorial and dangerous because of their dreadful eyesight.

When they reached the small ridge, Delani turned jade eyes onto the world again, the smell of rain once more brought upon the wind and reminding her they should find the hills so mentioned. Ahead, the grasses split around a stream snaking its way off into the distance. It was small and a few herds of animals could be seen grazing near a clear swath. From their vantage, Delani even pointed out shapes near the grazers slowly slinking their way towards the herd. They were large bodied, large jawed with bushy tails: wolves. "See you well, Loktupar." She said quietly as the wolves closed in. Then, the antelope heads shot up, turning at the sounds behind them before springing towards the stream, hoping to get across before the predators could catch them.

The wolves broke cover and converged on the herd, gnashing viciously at them but just too little too late as they sprung into the waters and away. As the herd crossed, something shot from the bottom, making Delani jump slightly, eyes wide. It made wolves look like pups for the speed in which it struck, grabbing one of the pronghorn easily in midair and then sinking just as quickly back beneath the surface. Another reminder of the dangers the Sea possessed; there were very few safe spots, and those that were found to be safe were not usually safe for long. The sinewy muscled bulk of that which had struck was one of the giant snakes that swam through the grasses. Clearing her throat, Delani suggested they avoid that location for now.

However, she did nod beyond and to the east (unfortunately in the same direction as the coming weather) to where the grasses rose like pimples briefly before smoothing out once more. Trees dappled the hills surface, shading the area some and shortening the grasses around the trees. It would provide some shelter. But it was a good three or more bells away.

The problem came in that the mounting storm clouds on the horizon suggested the coming weather was no more than two and a half bells away. They were going to arrive very wet. "If you can move us at a good clip, we might beat the worst of it; should it hail, I'd like not to be caught in the open. It's harder to evade glassbeaks then; we will need fires going hot and strong as soon as we get there."

With her suggestions made, Delani awaited Loktupar to get them moving. Riding wet was never fun.

x

[Praetorian]

By about midday, Loktupar's caravan had found a place to camp upon a tall, grassy knoll, free of any obvious game trails and situated so that sentries could see for miles around. Their guide, however, seemed to be losing strength as each bell passed. Loktupar was tempted on several occasions to remove her from his horse's back and return her to Kyanapa's care before continuing on. But, the woman was strong-willed and he doubted that she would take that very well. And so he stayed at her side as they led the caravan to a safer resting point, outpacing the rather slow moving storm... for now. Once Loktupar had sounded the stopping signal, he quickly reached up helped the woman to the ground by offering a knee and a shoulder. Now. The question was what he would do with her. Kyanapa had been sleeping on the floor of her wagon recently as the collapsible table took up the majority of her free space, and such a position was far from healthy for a woman of her age. Now that Delani was strong enough to be moved, he would have to seek another place for her to stay. Most of the people in his caravan were paired up in some way, spouses, siblings, even a small family unit. The only place with room for Delani to stay was with an older half-Myrian who kept the caravan's weapons in perfect shape. But, that would mean asking old Vu'kernin to move his precious equipment, which would make him grumpy which would just be an annoyance. With a sigh, Loktupar realized that there was truly only one choice. "From tonight on, you will be staying with me. Kyanapa needs her bed back." He paused, looking down at his thick, always bare feet with the realization that what he said could have come off as harsh. "You will still be safe. I promise." After running a hand through his hair, black eyes surveying the caravan, Loktupar spoke something softly in his own tongue, a sort of traveler's prayer. He flashed a brief smile at the Drykas woman, appearing to be almost apologetic. "You can wait here, if you want, but I must make sure everyone traveled well. Make sure no one needs help getting set up. I will return and build my tent for you. In the meantime, you can... sit? I suppose?" He trailed off, not used to personally having to be accommodating to others. When it came to hosting tent-guests, Loktupar was a bit out of practice to say the least. Sighing, he shook his head, scratching the back of it lightly. "I'm sorry. I'm not used to-" Taking care of people? He did that every day for the caravan. Why was it so hard for him to figure out how to take care of this single woman? "Well... I suppose I will go ahead and set up my tent. You can decide when I am done whether or not you wish to come." Tired of talking, Loktupar decided to distract himself from his confusion through manual labor. His mount - one would think that after 3 years, Loktupar would have come up with a name better than "Horse" - was quickly stripped of his tack and the harness he used to pull Loktupar's belongings. The small cart was packed meticulously, the sign of someone who liked to set up camp and break it exactly the same way every time so that nothing went missing. He first laid out three large carpets, creating the floor of his tent with a small triangle between the three for a small cooking fire should he choose to make one. From there, long, flexible poles were sunk into the ground and covered in thick, weather-proofed canvas. The final things to enter the tent were a large oaken chest containing Loktupar's few worldly possessions, and a large mat packed with grass, goose-feathers, and scraps of wool. It was a lumpy, uneven mattress but one nonetheless. Usually, Loktupar needed no blankets, but with the woman staying with him, the least he could do was accommodate her by retrieving a large, thick, woolen blanket from his chest. The edges had been embroidered by his grandmother years earlier, so there were several frayed or missing stitches. But, on the whole, it was a sturdy cover that warded away the cold prairie nights. When all was said and done, Loktupar emerged and held the tent flap open for the woman, smiling slightly. "Would you like to stay, or join me?" Odd, and illogical as it was, the Chaktawe found himself harboring a silent hope that this strange, strong, woman would choose to join him, if simply to learn more about her as he taught her about his people.

[Delani Denusk]

As the ride wore on, Delani kept her eyes torn between their destination and the creeping storm. As slow as it moved, the chances of torrential rain would likely increase. There could be flooding, for sure, or at least sodden ground by the end of the day. Every bell, though, the woman had to check herself to keep from slipping inexplicably from the horse. She was tired and the morning had proved exciting already. She tried to keep herself alert and focused by pointing out some of the game trails she spotted in the grass.

Living here all her life, the geography of the Plains came as naturally as riding did. But, she would never claim to be the most astute tracker of her people. The lost drykas was simply very observant and aware. When lunch bell chimed, and the Chaktawe called a halt, she was briefly reminded of the great horns the moving city of Endrykas used. The thought made her homesick and she quickly turned it away. Though the Denusk Pavilion did not often connect with the main gathering of clans, when they did it was always an exciting affair. Her uncle was always petitioning for someone suitable for her to wed, but too often Delani turned them down. They just never fit her. She often wondered if that was a reason Eachann had brought the Pavilion more frequently into Endrykas' path, hoping to marry her off to someone suitable so that the dwindling line could continue.

Delani snapped back into the present, blinking her tiredness away and asking Loktupar to repeat himself. It appeared her present sleeping arrangements were no longer applicable, Delani twisting in the saddle to peer back at where Kyanapa's wagon was. The elder was very interesting, she could not deny that, but neither was the mixed blood suitable for sleeping on the ground. She was about to remind him that she had a bedroll in her yvas bags when he ordered she stay with him. To this, an eyebrow raised. Delani could not deny that he was a leader, a commander. But his almost demand of it made her want to laugh and refuse him outright.

It was his behavior that changed her words. The sweep of hand through hair, the murmur of something in that foreign tongue, the shifting as if nervous on top of apologetic. After he'd helped her down, Delani leaning on the horse for support afterwards and adjusting the tie of the sling with her good hand, she nodded him off, saying "Loktupar, I am one indebted to you and yours generosity at helping a stranger. I understand your caution to let me walk free about your troupe, but not the anxiety now." Her eyes narrowed in thought as her good hand slid away from the sling to hang by her side. "Go, see to your kinsmen. I will wait here and have an answer for when you return."

That seemed to satisfy him for now as he shuffled off to attend to his business. In the meantime, Delani turned to the unnamed beast and patted his nose, laughing and murmuring quietly to him, "Your keeper is nervous about me. I wonder why. Perhaps I can use that to gain the answers I have been waiting for." The horse, whether he understood or not, simply tossed his head at the woman then dropped it to pull at a few of the sweet grass beneath his feet.

Loktupar had busied himself after seeing to his comrades with readying the tent, and during this time, Delani observed his methods. He was a meticulous man, precise in his actions and the steps he took to prepare his dwelling. Each piece was carefully placed before he moved on, and when it was finished Delani had a better understanding of why he made an effective commander for this little entourage: organization.

Gods if she didn't lack that. The thought made her laugh and without answering him verbally, she grabbed the reins of the horse and led it off to where the others had been secured together. He might mistake this gesture for declination to join him, but this would quickly be amended once the beast was secured. Delani had turned back and was making her way towards the newly erected tent once more. "Sleeping out on the ground today would not be wise; I will join you."

Once inside, it took the woman a moment to get comfortable, but eventually she had settled cross legged on what she assumed was her side, her sling-bound arm cushioned with some of the blanket he had provided. "Kyanapa will be grateful to have her wagon back; I heard her grumbling often when she thought I slept. I am too courteous to complain overly about it. Besides, I do not mind sleeping on an uncushioned table. It reminds me of sleeping on the stones." The figure grinned, a spirited thing that lit her face with youth and joy that had formerly been lost.

"Now then," She began next, listening to the sounds of the others working at getting things ready before the storm hit as well as the approaching thunder that rumbled through the skies. "Why don't you tell me why I put you ill at ease." Her tone had changed immediately from jovial to seriousness as she sat straight-backed before him, holding her composure even in light of her own tiredness. She wanted to sleep some more; but now was not the time. She could sleep when the rains came.

Now was the time for answers.

"I have seen it in your eyes; something distracts you when you look upon or about me. What do you see? Or what did you see?" When enough awareness had been regained following her retrieval, Delani spent most of her time simply watching Kya and Loktupar. Too often in those moments did she see something shadowy cross the latters vision, as if he was seeing something more than what lay upon the table or walked accompanied about the camp. What was it? This man was more than a simple foreigner, Delani was certain of that.

x

[Praetorian]

"Now then, why don't you tell me why I put you ill at ease. I have seen it in your eyes; something distracts you when you look upon or about me. What do you see? Or what did you see?" At her words, Loktupar laughed in shock, this woman really did see everything. Again his hand slid through his ebony locks, head shaking back and forth as he attempted to formulate an answer. "You are a very bright woman, Delani. And for that, I will grant you the answers you seek." He paused, sinking to his knees, and resting his clenched fists upon them. After a breath, he turned over his right arm, displaying the mark that shimmered and glowed a faint red on his inner forearm. The stylized mark displayed there interconnected lily-blooms with leaves of dark red that transitioned smoothly into a sunflower yellow near the throat. He doubted that it had escaped her notice in recent days, but drawing it to her attention may affix the meaning he needed to continue his explanation. "I am a thrice-marked follower of Avalis, a Seer, as your people say. It is how I found you, your chavi was dancing ever closer to the Ukalas, but I saw that if I intervened, your life would be saved. But, something has gone... awry." His face pinched lightly, as if smelling something bitter. "While I was checking your progress, making sure that you would live, the chavi of this entire caravan was... changed. And it remains... changed... no matter what I do, no matter where I look. Lhex has, it seems, determined our course. Do not ask me, for I will not burden you with the future..." In a fraction of an instant, Loktupar appeared much older, features becoming gaunt and wizened through years of difficult experiences. With a nearly animal growl, Loktupar shot to his feet, pinching the bridge of his nose. As he began to think about the future, his body had automatically begun reaching for the chavi, reaching for those beautiful strands of swirling light. But, the moment he had realized what he was doing, the Chaktawe had forcibly slammed himself back into his own body, ergo the growl and the pounding headache. "I'm sorry..." He said quietly, black eyes obscured by russet lids as he carefully examined the rough pads of his feet. "Such talk is... unpleasant. I should not be dwelling upon it, but, I am mortal. The workings of the gods, the whys and hows of the paths they forge for us fascinate and... and frighten me." There was an absolutely shocking amount of vulnerability in those dark eyes as he turned them upon Delani. For some reason, he trusted the outsider with, at the very least, a glimpse of the horror that was to come. But then again, he could already see that she would live through this. Perhaps his impending sense of mortality - death had never truly weighed upon him, not until now, not until he had seen it for himself - led him to desire that this story to be told right one day, with as little guessing as possible. "I will now go to see to my people. You can come if you want, you can meet them..." Would it be cruel to introduce the woman to a people doomed? Or would it allow them to live on, at least partially, in her memories. They all deserved at least that, aye? While waiting for the woman's response, Loktupar attempted to lock away as much of his negativity as he could, to focus on the present instead of attempting to dwell upon the past and fear the future. The last snarky thought to pass through his mind before he left his tent was, Odd how saving one life can doom an entire community... After that, he truly did attempt to focus on the moment... And for the most part, with Delani there, he succeeded.

[Delani Denusk]

Disbelief at what the man revealed at first filled her mind. None had ever doubted Delani's observational ability; she had always seen more than others in the world around them and always would. But for this kind of knowledge to be placed into her lap like this, the Drykas did not know what to think. Her mind went to Eyris as she listened, the words of the Goddess that morning echoing through her mind.

I know what she said to me....

"I have been watching you a long time...the mistake you made will not occur in the forseeable future."

Am I of such interest that these saviors paths should be so severely altered? This man is mortified by what he has seen for him and his people, and here I sit among them a lost child who can offer little succor in return. Why have you chosen me, Eyris? What do you want me to understand here?

Her thoughts waned to the back of her mind as she peered at the dark-eyed man in consideration of what he has said. She was not sure if what came next was truly spoken in wisdom, or if it was no more than the whims of her heart given voice. "There are some things in life that we as mortals were meant to know, and other things that we may, in time, know but should not until the time for us to has come. Knowledge comes at a price, Loktupar; my friends are dead because of a piece of knowledge I gained. A foolish act that has separated me from the ones I love and know best and which now sets a course ahead that I do not understand. All knowledge comes at a price. If nothing else is learned, that lesson should be at the top."

She sighed and eyed the tents opening as it flapped gently in the breeze. The smell of the coming rain was strong in the air, the humidity high and the atmosphere foreboding. The stormclouds on the horizon towered overhead, a dark presence that was sure to release hell upon them when night fell. How much longer, she wondered, turning back to the Chaktawe. A bell at most, she suspected. "We should make it swift. The storm builds and it is going to be a wet night. There is time yet in the days ahead where I may meet them, know them. When I reunite with the clans, I will ask them to grant you and yours a boon. Perhaps in such a reunion, this...fate...may yet be altered."

Delani got to her knees and then followed him out, careful not to jostle her wounded hand too much. As the introductions began, she took them to memory. Mostly they were humans, some were Chaktawe like Loktupar. There was even a strange multi-armed Ephyrian. He was a haughty creature that Delani did not find much interest in.

She was particularly enchanted by the seamstress in the troupe. It turned out that she was a drykas-mix whose mother had been part of Ruby Clan, a pavilion known as Fireweave. They specialized in brilliantly patterened weaves for the clan, some coming to them solely for the braids they made that looked like flames when the winds blew across them. The woman was young, but well skilled and had spoken of her mother fondly before her father, a former member of Loktupars caravan took her in to teach her of trade. This, she was informed, came only when her mother had died some years previous. Delani and the mixed blood shared a bit of spoken Pavi before parting ways as the caravan's leader continued to show her around.

When they came near Kyanapa's wagon, however, Delani's thoughts were interrupted by the boom of thunder. It made her tense and sway uneasily, leaning heavily on the man now. "I think it is time we held off on further interactions, Loktupar. The storm's upon us; we best hunker until it has passed. This is Zulrav's time to reign."

x

[Praetorian]

Just as Loktupar was going to take the Drykas to meet Vu'kernin, for the old Myrian seemed to enjoy hanging around the old half-Chaktawe, Delani piped up about the storm being upon them. One look at her, however, and the Chaktawe began to suspect that there was another reason behind her wanting to return to the tent that they now shared. He had not even been aware of how much the woman was relying upon his strength until he physically looked over at her. In an instant, his face softened and he nodded. "Yes... we can return." Smiling almost conspiratorially, he looked up at the looming thunderheads, face breaking into a full grin at the bolt of lightning that cracked the sky. "I love the rain..." He commented quietly, turning his smile on Delani. He started off towards his tent once again, but his natural pace seemed to be too much for the injured Drykas. Without pausing, he turned, and pulled the woman up into his arms, sinking into a crouch for an instant as he moved one of his arms beneath the slight woman's legs, and allowed the other to move around her shoulders. As he rose gently, carefully keeping her uninjured side against his chest, Loktupar marveled once again at the woman's fortitude. Her body was starkly boned, and lighter than he would have imagined considering her height, it felt to him as if a child was in his arms. But then again, Chaktawe children were dense little buggers. His stride was long and liquid as he attempted to keep from jostling the woman. When finally he made his way through the tent flap, he paused, giving her the option to leave his arms on her own, onyx eyes soft. If she was unable to let herself down, he would kneel and lay her upon the cot before leaving the tent a moment later. The gods were dancing over head, their divine feet creating a thunderous clamor, when Loktupar returned, a small bundle of sticks under one arm, a canvas roll under the other and a water-filled cast iron pot with four long legs swaying gently in his hand. Without a word, he got a small fire burning in the depression he had made earlier and set the pot over it, seasoning the water with salt taken from a small jar he removed from the canvas. Also in the canvas was several long strips of dried meat which he tore apart and tossed into the water. A few dried leaves and sprigs were also added to the water before Loktupar disappeared once more. This time, when he returned he held a potato, leeks, and a carrot. The last two were quickly cut and tossed into the water. Loktupar never pretended to be the best cook, he could hardly claim to be more than decent. But, the woman was likely hungry and he did not want to get caught in a torrent with his hands full of food. And so he started peeling the potato to add it to the water as well. "Have you been comfortable here?" He asked abruptly, looking up from the brown peel that was slowly being removed by a small knife.