Triumphant Return

The last few days have been good. I find it very restful to know, at least vaguely, what’s coming from day to day. I hadn’t realized how nerve-wracking it was to have that additional bit of chaos on top of my flailing attempts at integrating myself into Azu society.

The evening stories have been restful too. It usually starts with Eyani and Oshtik having silent nudging wars over who will be the owner of my lap for the evening. Nandi has usually shown up by the time the two little buggers have finished their turf wars; he makes a particularly good backrest. So we have a cozy evening together, listening to the stories by the fire. Kohric will often join us, and will explain things that don’t make sense to me, often without me even asking. They almost feel like a little family, and it’s very, very comforting.

The best thing about the last few days, though, is that Oreeaht has turned up, and with her, Nanahan. It feels like forever since I’ve seen either of them. Nanahan was whisked off to recover in a secluded cavern the moment we arrived; Oreeaht has been a shadow that flits from the community food stores back to the cavern with little more than a greeting gesture.

Nanahan looks like nine kinds of hell. She’s lost a lot of weight, and her bones and tendons stand out against her skin. Her face has more lines than it used to, and her eye color isn’t the same intense, burning yellow they were before (Kohric tells me the eyes fading is a sign of aging, similar to whitening hair in humans). The most striking change, though, is her leg. The injury has healed, but the scar it left will never, ever go away. Unlike a human scar, it isn’t a livid red; it’s a gray-green color, which almost makes it more disturbing to me. It reminds me of a huge, puckered vein.

The rest of her leg hasn’t faired much better. Her leg muscles have clearly atrophied, leaving the left one distinctly smaller than the right. It’s clearly very stiff, and she holds it tucked up against her body. She’ll try to flex it, occasionally, but it’s very apparent that her range motion is badly limited. I don’t understand their anatomy enough to know exactly what went wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s suffering from the equivalent of severed tendon and muscle wounds. She walks with kind of hopping limp, but won’t let anyone help her. She seems to be determined to get around on her own.

The Kan and his apprentice have been watching Nanahan like hawks. He’s told her, oddly enough, to swim as much as she can. So each morning she wades out into the water, practically radiating determination, and paddles slowly around until she’s visibly tired. Oreeaht seems very relieved. I think we all are, really. Even if she never gets the use of her leg back, Nanahan’s definitely going to be okay.