.
The snow was surprisingly heavy and after only a bell Ayszels arms and back began to ache. Her neighbour had had an incredibly beautiful garden, something she had noted when she had first moved in and gazed at covetously every time she passed it on her way to work.
I wonder why he wouldn’t care for his lot as carefully in the winter as the summer… she pondered. Though he had looked quite elderly it held no importance or significance to Ayszel who had grown up in a nest filled with elderly dhani who showed no signs of slowing down or incompetence.
Perhaps he is hurt in there… She started to worry, her protectiveness and feelings of loyalty slowly being displaced onto the people of the Okomo Villa despite herself.
Though she had promised the three golden goddesses she would never use her magic to serve another city, none of her strength to serve another city, and none of her loyalty, her sense of self demanded it. Despite the belief that Dhani were a vicious uncaring lot she could attest to their sensitivity and tremendous loyalty. While she could not overcome the bias of her childhood, the belief that humans and all things were inferior to Dhani, she had accepted that those that were inferior, like the animals of the earth, deserved their protection all the more. They were creatures, as prone to weakness as any other be it; rabbit, bear, or bat. And so she dug with renewed vigour toward the door that may contain the trapped frightened body of an elderly human man.
Unlike Saej, Ayszel was made for labour. Every muscle in her body was tightened and toned over years of breeding to be fit and ready. The Dhani lived off their muscle more than anything else, not their minds or creative talents.
The only fortunate part of this whole mess is no one has been treading on it, packing down the snow. Ayszel cursed Morwen. She had learned about the wintery goddess from the locals and since then had been cursing her for her wickedness. The dhani hated the cold, hated the snow, and hated the ice. Everything about getting to work and back made her miserable. In that vein, she attacked the snow with the sharpened end of the shovel with a fury.
Ayszel was happy to take a break when the stick woman signaled it by sticking her shovel into the snow. Leaning against the top of her own Ayszel stopped to catch a breath. “I’m so glad you showed up.” She thanked, offering a hand. Ayszel stared at the hand uncomprehending,
Is this a new hello? Is she foreign? Everyone here has bowed to each other. What am I supposed to do with a hand? Ayszel bowed slightly instead to the woman, leaving the hand untouched.
She looked Lhavitian, excepting the bright red hair, it was in the traditional tangles and dreadlocks that Lhavitians seemed to favour and besotted with an assortment of beads and crafts. Her eyes were as warm and pale as her skin, though Ayszel assumed the latter was leached of colour by the cold as even her own deep myrian-like skin was somewhat paler because of the penetrating cold.
I wonder where she’s come from…to look so Lhavitian and yet know fewer of the customs than even I do…“My name’s Saej. I’m supposed to be a gardener here but well, this is a poor season for a gardener’s work. I’ve gotten stuck doing this. Aye, do ye live here?” She inquired, warming the air before her with her words. A billow of steam spread outward from her lips like the curling fingers of the smoke from a pipe.
“My name is Litka, Litka of the Blooded Fangs,” Ayszel offered in return, the name still sounded funny on her lips. To speak a name that still haunted her dreams as fondly as she spoke her Dhani name. But since that night at the Red Lantern she had united her sense of self with this new form and this new name. While she still felt at moments as if she were stuck in a body that was too small and limited for who she really was, a tender glancing touch of the gold res in her center quickly reminded her.
“Oh? Well this is certainly not the right season for your kind, though I must say you and your own have down a wonderful job with the sundial square. What a beautiful way to landscape when there are no flowers or trees to use. Do you plan on doing anything like that here in the Estates?” Ayszel inquired politely, hoping she was getting better at the polite small talk that seemed to infuse itself into every part of Lhavitian culture.
“I do, I came here mid-autumn of this year. So I haven’t yet seen what you gardeners can manifest in the more bountiful seasons. I look forward to it though.” She smiled genuinely, “Sollas home was already astonishing in the fall, I can only imagine what she does with the greener seasons.”
As they moved back to their work silence descended upon the two again, with only the shush shush shink of the blades cutting through snow to disrupt them. Though cold, Ayszel began to appreciate the monochromatic stillness of the evening and when finally the door lay bare of snow and Ayszel leaned back against it heaving it open with monstrous effort she was almost sad to slip out of the funnel that was the outdoors and step into the luminous and brightly clothed furnishings of the interior.
“What are you kids doing?! Tramping that awful stuff in! Close the door would you!” The elderly man scolded. He sat perfectly plump and content upon a clothed rocking chair with a cup of tea at his side and an orange tom stretched happily upon his lap caught in dreams of mice and summer.
“He could be a little more appreciative couldn’t he…” Ayszel whispered to Saej, chuckling to herself. She found the permanently grumpiness of the neighbour delightfully charming and a nice change from the perkiness of many of the other Estate occupants. Knocking off her boots and, with considerable effort, closing the door Ayszel removed her coat and boots. Her crimson dress was open in the back and bound by a golden rope at her side to hold it closed and from her wrists and arms dangled a jingling chaos of copper jewelry.
“I suppose you’d like some tea, and maybe a cigar, after all your trouble,” He moaned, making no gesture to rise from his plump bottom.
“I think that would do us just fine Mr. Durk,” Ayszel accepted, “Let me get it for you,” She picked up the tea pot at his side and ushered herself into the kitchen where a stove was awaiting her attentions.
“Why don’t you have a seat pipsqueak,” He gestured to the lounge chair on his right, near enough to the fire to thaw any frozen toes or fingers. The tom peeked open his eyes to watch the girls move about his territory before leaping off to join Ayszel in the kitchen. Ayszel gazed down at the warm golden eyes and felt desire and hunger wash over her.
“Is it okay if I give him some milk Mr.Durk?” Ayszel asked, already fetching a bowl and heating the milk beside the water on the stove before her could answer.
“Oh, you spoil him rotten you do Litka. No wonder he adores you so,” He acquiesced, chuckling for the first time since they had entered and belaying his good natured humour. Turning toward the Inartan, his milky white eyes met hers. “Thank you for digging me out miss, it’s very hard to fetch my groceries in seasons like this.”
“Oh don’t go making her feel guilty Mr.Durk,” Ayszel scolded, “We both know Solla would never let you fetch your groceries alone. I imagine she sent Saej here to dig you out so she could deliver another weeks worth of food herself you pampered fool,” Ayszel replied as she walked back into the room with three cups of tea and a very affectionate tom at her heels.
OOCHey, I moved the story along so we could avoid polite chit chat 
I hope that's okay. If I skipped too far ahead or assumed too much about what you would do just let me know and I'll fix my post.
