Swimming in The Sea of Grass [Van & Satu]

[Satu]

Date: 70th Day of Fall, Year 510 A.V. Drainira’s glowing thread stretched away from Satu’s delicate hand. Others could not see it, but the Konti’s sea blue eyes longingly traced its length as it flowed out among the grasses until it vanished into the distance. Unsure of the thread’s ultimate destination, the Konti had randomly joined the first caravan she could find heading into the Grasslands, in hopes of discovering the thread’s beginning, or possibly ending. For some time now she traveled with the caravan party, settling into her own routine among them. It had taken time, not since Taloba had she been surrounded by so many people at once. During rest stops she wandered among them, silent and observant, eyes full of veiled distrust and unasked questions. During one such stop Satu noticed Drykas marks of the Wind among the travelers. The purpose of them was lost upon the Konti; some were shown proudly, others were only hinted at underneath clothes, but her eyes followed as much of the inked patterns as she was able. Her eyes widened. Messages! Hidden within the swirling, black inks on the skin. Secrets... for her. Each day from then on, Satu took her meals with them, every day drawing nearer to observe the windmarks if she could. And always she studied their Heart Colours amid their interactions with one another. It was difficult, for she had forgotten how to interact, or even be near people without the Aggressiveness and Violence of the Myrians filling her Heart. Emotions in the caravan flared and faded, but they were nothing compared to the constant assault she had been under for two seasons in Taloba. At times she offered tentative smiles or pretended interest in their idle conversations and buoyant stories, but truly her mind was far removed from the daily happenings that other people cared and talked about. Nothing here had truly touched her, no emotion or feeling had been strong or forceful enough to pique her interest. Her demeanor was at once proud and tentative. She could not hide the ease at which her limbs moved, or the fighter’s grace in which each footfall fell. And while she had self-confidence in her actions, there was something else there too. Hidden within her mind, her unbalanced thoughts came across to others as an innocence that made her appear shy or young, though her clothes of Myrian make made her seem older. And when she lifted her lashes to peer secretly at the Drykas, her eyes were full of focused intent. The young Konti was a strange mixture of opposing forces. But one thing was apparent, Satu did not blend in. The pull of Drainira’s thread was ever on her mind, and as each day passed, it only grew stronger. Late one evening, the HeartSeer awoke, instantly alert. She sat up, unsure. Something felt wrong… The night was deathly quiet, but for the stamping of the horses, and the occasional snoring of her tent-mate. The wrongness weighted her spirit. The string! Panic blossomed. It was the string! Long fingers fumbled with it from her bed roll. Instead of pulling forwards, the gossamer thread now pulled sideways. The caravan had turned during the day and Satu had not noticed. Away from her path! Betrayed by the plans of others! She bolted outside through the white tent flaps. “The wrong way!” She breathed, “It is wrong!” Turning suddenly, Satu ran back inside the tent, and threw her belongings roughly into her pack. With one last glare at the snoring woman the Konti silently hurried back outside. Without a word to anyone, Satu ran the short distance to the edge of camp. What need did she have of explanations or goodbyes? She did not need their guidance, for she was already led, and time was now wasted here. Satu gave no thought that a missing Konti might alarm anyone, but it would not have mattered in her mind anyway. “The stars know!” she whispered to the camp in appeasement. Silently, Satu stood at the edge of camp, pale skin shimmering against the grass in Leth’s light. She stared off into the dark distance at the glowing thread urging her forward. It was a beacon to her! Without backward glance, she held her pack by the strap, and walked tall and proudly towards her destiny. With no regret at leaving the companionship and the comforts of camp, the dark night very quickly swallowed Satu up.

[Vanator]

Vanator awoke with a start, his sound sleep interrupted by the twinge of tugging along the strand of woven djed connecting him to the web crafted around the camp. The manifestation of a web alarm was a sensation he had always been hard pressed to explain, he just simply knew what it was when he felt it. Unseen to others, the webber could detect the glowing strand of web seemingly stretching from his abdomen to disappear out under his tent flap. The alarm was not strong, and the webber's limited skill could only conclude that it was not a large animal or a group. The Drykas thought about stirring his cousins, but frequent false alarms convinced Van to investigate alone first. Slipping out from his bedroll, clad only in his wool breeches, the horseman blindly scooped up the battle ax laying next to him and slipped through the small green pavilion's doorway. Padding across the grass, the ground cool beneath his feet, Vanator jogged in the direction of the breach. In the white glow of the nearly full moon, the camp lay still and silent, the diversity of tent and shelters now only a hodgepodge of shadows and misshapen hulks as the man passed among them. Van and several of his cousins had joined the caravan after intercepting them on the open plains. The Sapphire clansmen were on their way to Endrykas from visiting their pavilion traveling in the Sea. Vanator had concluded that the caravan masters were legitimate and posed no threat to Drykas territory. Though the merchants and travelers had their own hired guards, the Drykas horsemen had insisted on escorting the train through the grasslands. The arrangement ensured Vanator that both the outsiders would remain safe, and that they would not violate the sanctity of the land or Drykas landmarks. Van himself had partaken in raids against those foolish enough to venture where they were not welcomed. Drawing near the outskirts of the camp, Vanator ran again over the sensation he detected when the perimeter was crossed. As he created the web, the Drykas had woven several concentric strands around the camp. It was the order of the breach in each strand he now tried to recall. The crossing was from the inside strand to to outlying. Outgoing. Whatever tripped the web was going out of the camp. Stray animal? Foolish outlander? Neither one would find much mercy in the cold Cyphrus night. Vanator strained to see in the dim, monochromatic light. A brisk autumn breeze picked up, causing the grass to undulate in waves. Van shrugged off a chill, feeling exposed at the edge of the vast eerie expanse of savannah. Suddenly movement caught his eye, white against dark. Van quickly jogged towards camp and located Kalinda, the Kavinka Paint he had hastily purchased after the Fall Hunt. Seizing a fistful of mane, Van scrambled onto the mare's back, clamped his legs around her barrel and rode off barebacked towards the curious shape heading away from camp. Van eased the horse's gait as they cautiously drew near the form, now clearly a person walking away from camp. The rider's large ax lowered after further examination. Even in the failing illumination, the platinum white hair and pale skin were unmistakable. The Konti. Even among the diverse travelers in the caravan, the quiet but confident light-skinned Konti seemed to stand out. She had found her way to the Drykas riders on most days of the journey, never saying much, simply listening and watching. It was the watching that intrigued Vanator. Her rich blue eyes were penetrating, as if she saw things more telling than the content of the few words exchanged. The stranger piqued his curiosity, but something in her gaze prevented him from broaching the secure, inane comments that passed infrequently between them. Besides, he did not wish to give his cousins, younger and sometimes brash, the opportunity to taunt him about courting yet another wife and embarrassing the stranger. Konti were intelligent, insightful and gifted, Vanator had learned from his own sisters. That is why the Drykas was surprised to find one of Mura's rare daughters traipsing through the Sea of Grass alone in the dead of night. It was incredibly unsafe, idiotic in fact, and it stirred his indignation to find someone so lightly flaunting the warnings he and his cousins had given over and over to the wide-eyed outsiders each night they camped. "I would have thought a Konti would have better sense, there are things out here those little white prongs of yours would be hard pressed to kill." Van had noticed the strange suvai weapons she had carried, seeing their likeness only once among the things of his father's Konti wife. The grassland warrior had also perceived the way this Konti moved, lithely but with purpose, and he was sure she knew how to maneuver in a fight. Regardless, even a Drykas would be foolish to wander off alone after the sun had set. "Where do you think you are going?" Van asked, urging his mount to pull to a walk next to the woman.

[Satu]

In Leth’s subtle light, the breeze picked up, and caused Satu’s hair to lift about her face. The rippling grass played in her ears and against her fingers, but it could not cover the sound of someone following her. Her HeartSense registered Caution and Irritation approaching, hidden in the the darkness. But there was no Threat and not enough Aggression to steal her attention from Drainira’s Thread for long. So the Konti walked on and ignored the rider until he pulled up along side her. Tendrils of Irritation temptingly grasped at Satu’s Heart, and the HeartSeer’s eyes began to gleam in response. She knew he would try to stop her, or take her back. Against her will! His words suggested it and his bearing indicated he was capable of making the attempt. Always others sought to hold her from where she would go! She frowned into the dark. Shadows lined her face ominously. Resolute in her forward movement, Satu continued to ignore him, but her HeartSense was open to him all the same, she felt what he felt. Indignant! She knew not why and did not care what made him so, pressed as she was to continue her journey. There was no time to fight this man, but the suvai fighter within her still eyed the battle ax at his side in case this exchange came to blows. But there was something else under the surface of his feelings... her Gift touched upon it. It was hidden by the man’s other, more prominent feelings, but it flowed all the same. Generosity? Generosity of Heart? Inwardly she scoffed, skeptical. What did she know of good men in the world! In the dark, it was hard to see her mouth move, but her voice was melodic and lilting as she spoke the common tongue, “And your better sense? Where is that at this hour, Drykas?” Satu replied to the man. “You need not follow. Go back and protect your Weak. I have no time to spare for you.” She moved easily, eyes focused ahead. An arm lifted as she vaguely waved it eastward, “There is where I go…” What did she know of grassland dangers? Had she even heard the nighttime warning stories of the Drykas? There was no hesitation or fear within her, and the Konti, focused as she was upon the distance did not think upon these things. She was half in this world of the Grasslands, and half in another world of her own making. She saw as she wanted to see and this became her reality. “I do not belong here…” The Konti announced simply, innocently, as if that explained everything. And it was true, she was an Innocent. Naïveté radiated off of her as surely as her pale skin glowed in the nighttime light. But she was also Aggressive and reactive, and her eyes held a challenge within her blue gaze, if one could see in the dark. It was a strange combination of opposing forces that warred for dominance within her. Ever since she had left Taloba, her Heart needed to engage the stronger emotions, and without them her Heart felt dulled and empty of its fire. She could weep at the loss! Steadily, the Konti asked as if it did not concern her, “Do you offer challenge in this?” And she continued to walk. “You can not stop me. And these little prongs might kill you,” she said off-handedly. Though a part of her hoped for conflict, Satu’s face slipped back into innocence again, distracted as she was. “I must go!” She said, waving him away with a hand, as if he were no more than a mere annoyance. Lifting her eyes to his, she hoped to hurry him away from her.

[Vanator]

Prideful determination. Vanator, even in the minimal cold light, could see it in her gait and carriage, hear it in her firm response. Some would have faulted her for it as arrogant, but the Drykas man did not. Pride and determination were at the heart of the grasslanders, and Vanator begrudgedly respected the foreigner for her resolution and tenacity. Nevertheless, he chafed at her defiance. He simply could not have her wandering off into the Sea. The man strained to see the face obscured by darkness, filling the image of her features from memory, pale skin, penetrating sea-blue eyes, hint of scales, the curious colorful marking at her temple. "I am wondering myself where my sense has gone, chasing you into the night instead of sleeping peacefully in my warm bedroll." He retorted smartly, looking off into the vague direction the woman had indicated. "But my duties are not limited to protecting foolish outlanders from dangers they fail to comprehend. I am also to protect our territory from those who would intrude upon it." Vanator shifted slightly on the paint's back, then looked down again at the lithely striding Konti next to him."You are right, you do not belong here." Not used to riding bareback, the Drykas managed to coax the mare ahead of the woman then turn her sideways to block the Konti's path. He shifted the battle ax from his left to his right hand. It was not a threatening move, just one that prepared him for the myriad of other threats beyond Leth's shadows. "You do not seem to appreciate the gravity of the situation. Should you continue your trek, the likelihood of surviving to see Syna smile on your living face again is woefully small." Vanator's voice had grown authoritative, an unconscious response to the bold woman's thinly veiled threat. "I am trying to save your life and you threaten to assault me?" Vanator paused, his own pride at the woman's insolence and the prospect of leaving her to demise wrestling with a desire to protect her and a growing curiosity in the strange Konti. The breeze stirred is hair, causing the thin twin bronze and silver banded braids framing his face to sway. The cold wind brushed against his bared torso, the windmark across his upper back barely visible in the faint illumination. He did not cringe at the chill, would show no form of weakness to the contentious outsider. The Drykas sighed. "Listen, I will not stop you by force. The Sea of Grass will stop you eventually anyhow." Vanator did not find it to be a pleasant thought. Regardless of the perils she met in the wilds, they would most likely be most gruesome, and not all end in the merciful grasp of death. "But answer me this Konti. Why now? Why do you have to go off now, in the middle of the night in some random direction? Come back to camp and we can come to a reasonable course of action."

[Satu]

“You think me capable of harming this… grass?” Satu asked incredulously, not understanding what sort of threat a simple Konti could be to such a vast open space. But the man nudged his horse in front of her, effectively cutting off the rest of what she would to say. Satu was forced to stop as man and beast stood solid before her. The path blocked! Anger began to rise in the Konti’s Heart, and her muscles tensed as the man shifted, his ax switching hands. Before she could react though, she noticed the line of his windmark as he moved in the saddle. Satu’s eyes widened, and she forgot her Anger immediately. By the time their eyes met, the emotion was gone from her face, only to be replaced with surprise. A sign! She breathed in, while her disordered mind worked furiously... She had left camp. He had followed her. The windmark was displayed… For her to see! To show her… what? Satu did not know yet, but she needed to see it. Tread carefully, she told herself. He might not be aware of the message… Slowly, almost shyly, she looked up to study the man. He was broad and muscular, and though his features were partially illuminated by Leth’s light; Satu’s eyes searched its shadows. His face was familiar, one she had watched often in the caravan, as the other men often deferred to him. “You are one of the Drykas. I know your face and I recognize your Heart. But not your voice. In camp, you spoke so little, to me.” Long ago, Satu would have stopped there, but now she held no qualms or embarrassments about telling others what she saw within their changing emotions. “Your Heart, Curiosity coils around it… Vanator.” She spoke softly, so as not to frighten him off and paused to see if she had gotten the name right. Pride was in him. She felt it and watched it while it made him taller and confident in the saddle. Yet he did not yet understand. Satu could easily see that, Vanator with the windmark did not understand! He must be made to understand, and if that failed... swift action must taken. But not just yet. “A reasonable course of action!” She exclaimed. “If the battle were at hand, would you delay, and lounge by the fire with people who did not know how to wield a weapon? Is it reasonable to put your head into the sands and deny troubles exist around you? I can not live that lie! Not one chime more! And you ask me to be idle while the caravan travels in the wrong direction!” The Konti threw her hands into the air in frustration. Her bodice shifted, and the seer’s lily of Avalis could be seen peeking out from above. Just what did the Konti truly see or know? Perhaps she had seen things others had not; the Konti Gifts were a mysterious thing. Were her unusual actions ultimately determined by tremendous need? It seemed she spoke truthfully, though her feelings threatened to overtake her. “I know what people are capable of…” She faltered, and looked away. “Everyday I see it! I feel it! And you ask me to ignore this? Go back Vanator! Go back to those who are Fearful, protect those who need protection... That is your world. I will not return there.” “I do not need you…” Satu stated flatly, though she looked to be completely alone. On foot, in the dark grasslands without even a horse, the odds she faced were horrific. The suvai fighter flickered momentarily in her gaze, strong and determined before it returned once more to the pale face of angel song. It was her mercurial nature to ever shift between such strength and innocence. The Konti did not understand the dangers of the grasslands. And it was apparent; even if she did Satu would go regardless, driven by the need to do what her mind told her was for good of others.

[Vanator]

Holding Kalinda steady across the Satu's path, Vanator attempted to read the woman's intent. The horseman did not miss her subtle shift to a defensive stance as his ax shifted, but after a pause, a moment of pondering, the Konti's posture relaxed and her insolent demeanor seemed to diffuse. The features of her face were too shadowy to betray her mood, but he could see, even feel, that the woman was examining him. She began to speak again, almost conversationally, The sudden change in subject was disarming, as was the softness of her voice, and Vanator found his own defensiveness fade, relaxing enough to rest the battle ax across his thighs. "yes, I am Vanator." He replied, trying to conceal his surprise and shirking a chill that had less to do with the night air and more with Satu's mystical statement. She said that she recognized his heart, she could sense his curiosity, and surely she knew the subject of that curiosity. Her observation, so intrusive, unnerved the Drykas. It was surely some Konti trait. His Konti half-sister could know what an animal or a kelvic was thinking. Or maybe it was magic, Hex said she could see people's auras and discern things about them. Regardless of her method, Vanator was as intrigued as he was uncomfortable by the strange woman's violation of his heart. As swiftly as her pensive manners had come, they were whisked away by more vehement exclamations. The Konti went on about readying for battle and denying trouble in a diatribe that left Vanator dumbfounded. The man would have been quite sure the pale woman was mad, if not for something in the timbre of her voice that spoke a deadly sincerity. He balked, unsure of what to make of her, whether she was insane, or on some desperate mission. Vanator spotted the hint of Avalis' mark on her chest, revealed as Satu made her animated speech. At first appearing as a tattoo of some flower, a shimmer raced across the image as the stranger moved. Another chill ran along Van's spine, who wished he had grabbed a tunic. The simple grasslander did not know for sure what the mark was, but he surmised it belonged to one of the Konti's goddesses. Vanator possessed no supernatural gifts to discern the thought of others, but his father had taught him to listen and study others, for careful observation can give you insight into a person's motives. He was convinced of the Konti's sincerity. Maybe it was the depth of his own Konti sisters' resolution and convictions that lead him to believe a complete stranger. Maybe it was the fact that she had already plumbed his soul and left him feeling laid bare before her. Whatever the motive, Vanator's mind now raced with questions. What do you see? What do you feel? What do you know of people? What was her world? There was an air about the Konti, something almost palpable, urgent. He could no longer consider leaving her to her own devises in the Sea. Whatever purpose she hoped to fulfill, she would not live to complete it, not without divine intervention....or an escort. The Drykas looked back towards the soft glow of the caravan's camp, tendrils of smoke from dying fires still visible lifting from among the tents. What he was considering was foolishness. Kashik and Khiara were expecting him. Who knew who the woman really was? A seer? A witch? His soul wavered between the safety and duty of the caravan and the intrigue and mystery of guarding this one strange Konti. Vanator sighed and slouched slightly, his hand running through his mussed shoulder-length hair, as if reaching a difficult conclusion. His back straightened, his gaze turned back towards Satu, searching in the dark for blue eyes. "I can see you will not be deterred. I see that you have a purpose, something you are bound to complete. But if you go on alone, you will not survive to reach your destination." His tone was as matter-of fact as her own. "If you find another caravan, or other travelers heading in your direction, you will have a chance. I can lead you to them." His authoritative tone softened, his heart now laced with compassion. "Please do not attempt to go on alone, let me get my things and leave a note for my cousins, and I will go with you." Even as the pavi-accented words passed his lips, Vanator questioned his own sanity. Before she could object, he posed a simple question. "What is your name."

[Satu]

Satu followed Vanator’s gaze as it led back towards the camp. What did the Drykas see in the darkness of its shelters? She strained to see what he saw, but in her eyes there was nothing of interest, only wisps of smoke and the outline of white tents in the dim light of the moon. His Heart seemed to go out to it, but there was nothing to cause her to linger further. Uncertainty danced within him, her Heart watched its colorful play lighting the dark around him. But still, he was softening to her; it was there in his stance as his body relaxed. Doubts filled her also. How to trust another after she had been so badly mistreated? Vanator had offered his assistance, to lead her to another caravan. He was perceptive, understanding her need. Dawning comprehended; Vanator was the Guide, though she already knew the way. Drainira’s thread assured the course, but Satu needed this man to survive the grassy wilderness journey. If she was to make good time and fill the distance, Satu’s mind realized she needed an ally. At least for a little, she must work with this man, though the thought strained her mind. Could she do it? Self preservation warred within her. She had no trust of others! But his gaze showed compassion in his Heart; once long ago she had been that foolish. Could she use him? To her ends? Hesitant, she scarcely remembered how to be that unknowing, yet caring Konti from Mura. How did one speak with such civility and sweetness? A frown briefly crossed her face as her mind searched for lost reference. Back and forth her eyes shifted, and indecision placed a tentative hold upon her, forcing a foothold in her thoughts. Until he said, “I will go with you…” Then her face slid to settle upon relief. Let him believe in your submission, she told herself. Let him think you weak... and in need of service! “Please,” she agreed, “lead me to this other caravan.” But she hesitated once more. Vanator bid her to wait for his return from camp. Satu looked off into the westward distance with the same longing in her Heart for the road ahead, as he had had for the camp behind. Turning, she studied him as if taking one last moment to see if he was truly worthy of trust for the important task ahead. Satu nodded. “I shall wait for you,” she offered. But there was no conviction in the statement. It was just as likely to be false as it was true, yet it was the only answer he was likely to receive from the Konti. “Satu…” she then replied, watching his reaction “My name is Satu. Do you know of me?” As it seemed to her mind that maybe he should… and involuntarily she shivered as the chill night crept along her bones.

[Vanator]

Vanator was a simple man of the horseclans. Though he knew the mysteries of the Web, he was neither a mystic nor a scholar. He was just a husband and a father-to-be, part of a small pavilion of semi-nomadic hunters. Though he gave his reverence to the gods, they were just distant beings dwelling the Ukalas. The things that occupied his mind were the mundane tasks of survival and tradition. But the Drykas knew that the Konti were not simple, they were marked by a goddess among them, diviners and seers, knowers of the deep things of Mizahar and its past. This one had already displayed behavior that was...not ordinary. As she seemed to mull over his offer of an escort, Vanator attempted to study her through the pale cold moonlight. The divergent feelings about the mysterious woman remained, and with this initial interaction, the Ankal's son could not easily categorize her into a neat group of his familiar stereotypes. At once displaying stubborness, ignorance, mystery and a sideways appeal, Vanator decided he would require more time to decode the Konti. For the time being, there was nothing threatening about her, though she had boasted that she could kill him. There was something...almost a foreboding. Maybe it was her strange behavior, maybe the fact that she seemed to be able to discern his heart so easily. The horseman shivered as a cold breeze whipped up. Maybe it was just the late hour and a groggy mind. Vanator was relieved when the woman accepted his offer, not necessarily because he preferred to go with her, but because now a course of action was laid which he could pursue. Vanator noted the lack of commitment in her promise to wait for him to return. In the end, if he returned and she was gone, he could return to his tent and sleep in peace, knowing he had done all he could to save her. Finally she introduced herself. "Satu..." Van repeated the name, as if to feel it across his tongue. His brow furrowed as he looked down at her. "No, I have not heard that name before, sorry." Vanator felt the need to apologize, as if his ignorance of her existence would have been some kind of slight to her. The Drykas had not been with the caravan for long, and Vanator wondered what about her she expected he might have known. "I will hurry." It was all the rider said before turning the horse towards camp and trotting off.

[Satu]

Ah! He did not know her! “But I thought since…” she said then stopped. Vanator did not know! In the wane light Satu watched him, and yet she was sure the Drykas had not lied. He did not know the message hidden within his windmark was for her. So he turned his horse and rode off. “Your message is for me!” Satu explained, hair whipping around her face, but already he was gone. Far out of hearing distance, he rode towards the slumbering camp filled with meanings and trappings that held no interest to one such as her. The HeartSeer watched him grow small as moonlight glanced off his muscled back. In the dark, the windmark became unreadable, mysterious and teasing. So quickly was he gone that Satu took a step after him, and longing colored her face. “Yes, hurry.” She breathed, silently or in thought, she did not know which. But she was convinced that Vanator had heard her, even as far away as he was. And so she stood and stared as the night swallowed the Drykas. Unmoving, the dry grass around her remained high and un-trampled. Some would have considered it abnormal to wait without rest, or fidgety adjustment for such a length of time. But Satu’s mind now worked differently. Her normally chaotic nature focused on the path of the horseman with his mark, and little else. She waited as if time swam differently around her. Had Vanator only been a dream? Her eyes narrowed in thought. No… she was compelled to wait upon the horseman’s return, Vanator is real. And he was not a Weak Hearted man, but solid and steady. And within it, Power! It was easy to read in its directness, and for no one less would she have waited, and delayed her journey. Would he truly come back? The Konti was uncertain. Thus strangely motionless, still as a statue Satu waited to see what would happen.

[Vanator]

Van raced towards the silent caravan camp, bouncing uncomfortably on the horse's bare back as he urged the mount faster than was prudent without a yvas. He questioned his own urgency, perhaps Satu's determined resolution to make this journey propelled him forward, though he admitted he had no obligation to rush for the stranger. Pulling the paint short of the tent he shared with his cousins, he opened the flap and left is such, so the dim light of the dying fire outside would illuminate the small pavilion's interior. He gathered his yvas first, exiting the tent and quickly strapping it to Kalinda. Returning to the tent, he dressed and hastily rolled up his bed roll, gathered his packs and weapons and likewise strapped them down to the Kavinka mare, finally slipping the battle ax through its loop on the harness. Slipping back into the tent, Vanator crouched near Omri, his oldest cousin. "Omri, wake up!" Van whispered harshly, shaking the sleeping man. "Wake up, I have to go." Omri stirred and rolled over, looking up at Van in the dim light, his face twisted in displeasure. "What are you talking about, where are you going?" The cousin grumbled. "The Konti, she is trying to leave on her own, says she has to head a different direction, that she can't stop." Vanator tried to explain. "So you are going to escort her? How much did you drink before bed? Where is she going?" Omri shifted to lean on his elbows, squinting at his older kin. "I don't know where she is going, I will go with her just until I can find a caravan heading in her direction." Van explained, the sound of his words as confounding to himself as they buts have been to his cousin. "We will be able to move faster than this caravan, I should not be late arriving in Endrykas, I would think a day late if anything. I need you to explain to Kashik and Khiara if I am late." "You want me to tell your wives that you went off in the middle of the night with some mysterious Konti as her escort? Are you insane?" Omri scoffed, shaking his head. "Kashik will castrate me for just being related to you." "No she won't, here, wait..." Vanator moved over to another of their cousins, a young man you enjoyed jotting down lyrics to raunchy songs. Van rifled through the man's pack until he found a scrap of parchment and a crude pencil. He stepped out to stoop near the fire. Using a rock as a table, the husband scribed a brief explanation to his brides, vowing his faithfulness and love. He then rolled it up and entered the tent again. Leaning down he gave the note to Omri. "Give this to them, it will explain everything. And give them each a hug for me if you arrive before me. A short, brotherly hug Omri." Van grinned down at his groggy cousin. "Why are you doing this Van?" Omri inquired. Van replied flatly."I don't know Om, I just feel like it is something I have to do. You will have to trust me, as will Kashik and Khiara. I know what I am doing." With a clasp of hands, Van left Omri to his sleep and mounted Kalinda, turning the paint back towards the darkness. The Drykas felt an certain unease with the situation, and more so, with the peculiar sensation that compelled him to accompany Satu. It was not an attraction, though she was attractive. It was something undefined that puzzled him. He just knew he could not let the woman go off by herself. She was waiting for him. His thoughts were put aside as he coaxed the horse to a run until they came up behind Satu. The woman seemed to have been waiting...intently. "I am ready, you can strap your gear here," He indicated two loose straps hanging from the yvas, leaning down to assist her. Once her gear was stowed, Van offered his hand to help her scramble onto Kalinda's back behind him.