30 Spring 518
Ashka slithered down into the soaking pit, trying to avoid the broken edges, and wincing as one lip crumbled away in spite of her efforts. She gathered up lumps of matted fibre and fistfuls of loose, squeezing what water she could out of it and tossing it up over the edge. She tried to toss it all in the same place so that it would all be in one pile for working when she was done. Kiveth watched her, a touch of bemusement in his eyes, and amusement on his lips.
"What exactly are you doing?" he asked, poking the pile with a cautious finger and grimacing.
Ashka sighed, and aimed the next lump at him. He dodged. "It's coconut fibre, off the nuts we eat. It has to soak for at least a season before it's fit to turn into thread."
Kiveth looked abruptly more interested. "This is from a tree? The hole too?"
"The fibre is. The hole isn't. It just needs repairs. Or rebuilding." Ashka grimaced, remembering the first time she'd dug it out. "I meant to line it with wood for strength, but then there was an earthquake, and then you lot all turned up and - well, it didn't happen."
Kiveth drummed his fingers on the ground. "I can fix your hole, given the wood. I'm a passable carpenter. Just tell me how this - fibre - from trees works. Deal?"
"Deal," Ashka echoed, tossing more clumps out of the hole onto the pile. "I understand there's a sawmill back in the jungle. We can get the wood there."
Kiveth eased over to the hole and probed into the mass of fibre. Ashka grimaced. "It needs to come out of the hole, not be shoved in the mud," she told him grumpily. "You'll get plenty of chances to handle it before I've finished."
The Verusk sighed at length and started bailing the fibre out by the clawful and dumping it on the pile. "I need this hole empty anyway, to work on it," he grumbled back. He didn't seem to notice that the edge of the hole crumbled further each time he leaned in. Or at least, not until it gave way under him and tumbled him head first into the pit with a splash that washed over Ashka.
He came up again spluttering, with his now sodden black hair plastered over his silver eyes. Ashka pressed her hand to her mouth and tried - and failed - not to burst out in giggles at his expression. There wasn't much room for both of them in the pit, which meant she had a very close view of his face, and it really... well, she knew that sort of expression from the inside, but it was very different seeing it on someone else.
Kiveth pushed his hair out of his eyes and blinked ruefully at her. "Serves me right for not taking more care. You did say it needed strengthening..." He stooped and began to find and toss fibre faster than Ashka ever could.
Ashka slithered down into the soaking pit, trying to avoid the broken edges, and wincing as one lip crumbled away in spite of her efforts. She gathered up lumps of matted fibre and fistfuls of loose, squeezing what water she could out of it and tossing it up over the edge. She tried to toss it all in the same place so that it would all be in one pile for working when she was done. Kiveth watched her, a touch of bemusement in his eyes, and amusement on his lips.
"What exactly are you doing?" he asked, poking the pile with a cautious finger and grimacing.
Ashka sighed, and aimed the next lump at him. He dodged. "It's coconut fibre, off the nuts we eat. It has to soak for at least a season before it's fit to turn into thread."
Kiveth looked abruptly more interested. "This is from a tree? The hole too?"
"The fibre is. The hole isn't. It just needs repairs. Or rebuilding." Ashka grimaced, remembering the first time she'd dug it out. "I meant to line it with wood for strength, but then there was an earthquake, and then you lot all turned up and - well, it didn't happen."
Kiveth drummed his fingers on the ground. "I can fix your hole, given the wood. I'm a passable carpenter. Just tell me how this - fibre - from trees works. Deal?"
"Deal," Ashka echoed, tossing more clumps out of the hole onto the pile. "I understand there's a sawmill back in the jungle. We can get the wood there."
Kiveth eased over to the hole and probed into the mass of fibre. Ashka grimaced. "It needs to come out of the hole, not be shoved in the mud," she told him grumpily. "You'll get plenty of chances to handle it before I've finished."
The Verusk sighed at length and started bailing the fibre out by the clawful and dumping it on the pile. "I need this hole empty anyway, to work on it," he grumbled back. He didn't seem to notice that the edge of the hole crumbled further each time he leaned in. Or at least, not until it gave way under him and tumbled him head first into the pit with a splash that washed over Ashka.
He came up again spluttering, with his now sodden black hair plastered over his silver eyes. Ashka pressed her hand to her mouth and tried - and failed - not to burst out in giggles at his expression. There wasn't much room for both of them in the pit, which meant she had a very close view of his face, and it really... well, she knew that sort of expression from the inside, but it was very different seeing it on someone else.
Kiveth pushed his hair out of his eyes and blinked ruefully at her. "Serves me right for not taking more care. You did say it needed strengthening..." He stooped and began to find and toss fibre faster than Ashka ever could.
Common, Pavi, Fratava