Fives

Oshtik is really pretty cute when she’s in her element. I’d always taken her for a little bit snobby. But now I’m realizing that she’s just very, very bright, and she gets frustrated when others don’t pick up on things as quickly as she does. She absorbs information like a sponge. We’ve had our impromptu tutoring sessions the last three afternoons, and she is soaking up practically everything I say.

Poor Eyani was actually rather unhappy with this change at first. We reached a compromise by having our lessons under one of the trees at the edge of the beach. I sit across from Oshtik, and Eyani plasters himself to my side and dozes, his head on my leg or lap. Though, I’m beginning to think the dozing is a ruse, since yesterday he, quite out of the blue, corrected Oshtik’s pronunciation when I was teaching her “friend.”

Today, though, was a little different.

I’d gotten it into my head that basic numbers would be an easy concept to teach them. I started off simply enough. I collected a half dozen stones to demonstrate with, settled under the tree with Oshtik, and started teaching her one through ten. Except that once I got to five I realized I couldn’t count any higher in their language.

By now, though, Oshtik was well aware we were doing numbers, so when I put down the sixth stone and said “six,” she looked at me a little oddly. She pointed to the sixth stone and said “shota’a-ha.” What?

Okay. Quick lesson in Azu numbers so you understand why I was confused.

One through five in Azu-nah is so:



There are two different methods of writing them. A formal version, that’s all graceful curves, and a kind of tally-mark version shorthand that faintly mimics an Azu hand and tail. So “shota” is five, right? And “ha” is one. Essentially the number six in their language is five-one.

Apparently the Azu-nah have a quintal base number system.

So, instead of gaining a new digit at number ten like you’d expect, they get one at five. It makes counting a little confusing, since I have to convert everything in my head.

The sociologist gurus we trained with before heading out to Minerva had told us to be on the lookout for a quartal (base 4) counting system, since the Azu-nah have four fingers on each hand. It’s rather funny to see them turn the prediction on its ear. I guess no one realized how important that tail would be (that or they thought they would have a base 9 counting system and didn’t give us a head’s up).

Poor Oshtik had a bit of difficulty wrapping her brain around a decimal system. Eyani had given up by six and was snoring at my hip. Oshtik was starting to get frustrated. I was considering calling the rest of the lesson off when a shout from one of the clan lookouts interrupted.

Dark, brooding clouds were rolling in again. Another storm. There were flickers of lightning crawling along the bottoms of the darker anvil-heads; the sky was a weird shade of gray-green.



They’d called warnings for storms before, but this time was different. Other Azu-nah were running through the grass now, repeating the lookout’s shouts. They looked frightened, their eyes wide and flickering. I almost didn’t register what they were saying, because it wasn’t at all what I’d expected.

Sodo. Fire.

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This week's cameos are Tsosanonon by Marjask and an unnamed male by RattusMaximus! Thank you for submitting them!

Also, thank you for putting up with the delays this week. There was a death in the family, and it came up very, very suddenly. So thank you for your patience.