Aftermath

I have no memory of how we got back to the caves.

I probably should have been disconcerted by that. I’m really not the type to zone out. But I wasn’t exactly in my right mind, either. I woke from the worst of my grief to find myself in the middle of a cluster of Azu-nah. The clan was very active, and I slowly began looking around to figure out what was going on. It felt like my grief had wrapped around my thoughts, making them sluggish and distant. I wasn’t terribly interested in what was going on around me. It was almost like I was along for the ride and my training and instincts were all that was left to pilot my body.

One of us, Nandi or I, must have carried Oshtik back. She was lying on the grass nearby, looking so tiny and delicate. It was hard to reconcile this with the vibrant, intelligent person I’d known. I tore my eyes away and swallowed hard against the lump rising back into my throat.

Next to her were other still forms. It took me several minutes to get up the courage to look. I didn’t know if I could bear further loss. I sucked in a breath through my teeth, scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms, and forced myself to face the other casualties.

The first was a small grey female I’d known only by name; A’shen, one of the young hunters. My first thought was relief that I hadn’t known her well enough to feel further wrenching grief from her death. I felt a sharp stab of guilt and turned away. I was not going to think about the loss of a chance at getting to know her. Next to A’shen was an elder, a deep green male, his skin coarse and pebbly with age. I recognized him as one of Kohric’s friends. I didn’t even know his name. Thank the listening deities it wasn’t Kohric himself. The guilt stabbed at me again.

The fourth and last body was To’odir, the Kan’s apprentice. My heart sank. She was the one, even more than the Kan, who had helped Nanahan recover from her injury. She was one of the few clam members who wasn’t born and raised in D’Keda. She would often tell stories to the children about her clan in the deep forests where she grew up. The clan had been certain she would make an excellent Kan. Her death seemed horribly unfair.

I stood there for a long time, trying to wrap my brain around everything that had happened. Everything had turned upside down so fast. Had it really only been this morning that I’d been teaching Eyani and Oshtik English? It felt like a lifetime away.

The clan eventually gathered around the dead and began to carry them away. I assumed that they would take them to a pyre or bury them. But instead we struck out onto the plains. The sun was very low now, staining everything a burning orange. The lingering smoke and ash in the air reflected the light too. It would have been pretty if I hadn’t felt so awful. It slowly seeped into my head that the clan was singing a low, mournful chant. I couldn’t focus enough to make out more than a few words, and simply stumbled along with them.

We walked close to a kilometer away from the caves, to an open area with short cropped grass. The four bodies were laid out several meters apart, reverently posed in a sort of loose fetal position, with their tails curled around their bodies. The Kan pulled up a handful of grass and twisted it into a kind of brushy wand. He paced around the nearest body, To’odir, circling her, his lips moving in silent prayers. The clan was still chanting softly, watching solemnly.

Then the Kan reached down to To’odir and flicked one clawed finger down to the little notch where her neck met her chest. To my horror, he neatly severed her flesh with his claw and green blood began to ooze from the wound. He dipped the grass brush in her blood and began to draw a circle on the ground around his apprentice’s body, using the same careful reverence I’d seen when he had prepared the funeral fire back at the old clan site. This was apparently how they prepared the dead. When he had completed his circle he brushed a line of green down To’odir’s muzzle and tucked the brush into her hands. One after another, the Kan twisted a brush, spilled blood, and painted the funerary circle around the dead, finishing with the brush tucked into the hands.

The sun had fully set by the time the Kan was finished. The few stars visible in the fading sun were joined by the full blazing night spectacle, with both slowly moons rising on the horizon.

The clan gathered around the dead and sang to them long into the night.

---

This week's cameo was submitted by Ashenraptor with her character A'shen. She was a good sport and let me make her character into a red shirt. :P

Loss

We huddled in the cave for what felt like eternity. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t actually very long. Tornados don’t generally sit in one place for more than a few minutes, but it really didn’t feel like a few minutes. Then again, keeping track of time was the last thing on my mind.

At some point Nandi must have come into the cave with us. I have no memory of it. He may have been inside before we came in. I don’t know. But at some point I realized there was another warm body pressed against my side, and the spiky bristles of his shorn mane were prickling my neck. It was oddly centering; a tiny piece of normality in the middle of a howling nightmare.

Eventually the wind died down and we got up the courage to move. Nandi moved off to look out the cave entrance, and I slowly unhinged my stiff limbs from around poor Eyani. The poor little guy was looking thoroughly squashed, but he didn’t seem to notice. He looked up at me as if he was expecting the cave to come crashing down on top of us. His pupils kept dilating and contracting like a confused pair of camera lenses. I bumped his forehead and it seemed to help; his ears relaxed, and he let out a funny little huffing snort. Then his eyes tracked up to my cheek and he flattened his ears again.

“What is this?” he asked, sniffing up at me.

I felt at my cheek and realized the cut I’d gotten earlier had left a mess of crusted blood down the side of my face. I was so scrambled by everything that happened that it took me a minute to realize why he was concerned.

“Your blood is green,” I said. “My blood is red.”

His eyes grew huge and he stared at me for a long, long time as if I’d grown a second head. I wondered if he was suddenly registering just how very alien I am to this world. It made me feel lonely.

“Tee is hurt?” he finally asked.

I smiled at him and bumped his forehead again. “No,” I said.

We made our way after Nandi to the entrance and my stomach lurched. The sun was still up, but the smoke and ash and dust in the air made everything feel smothered and hazy. There was a huge, winding path of ground in front of the cliff face that was completely littered with debris; twisted, shattered pieces of wood, broken bits of rocks, whole shrubs, roots and all, flung everywhere. Even the grass that had managed to stay rooted looked warped. Everything was covered in a fine layer of grey ash. There was less burned than I had feared, though. Perhaps the fire wasn’t able to catch well at such high speeds. There were areas of grass that were clearly smoldering, and some of the broken logs had red coals glowing balefully from their centers. Gusts of smoke kept billowing in on the wind, carried from the larger fire on the plain.

It was incredibly disturbing. This wasn’t D’Keda as I’d come to know it; this broken, horrible mess. Then I began to register the cries in the air, and the disturbing factor went through the roof.

Amidst the ash and twisted debris were shapes, bodies.

Eyani disappeared out from under my arm and vanished down the hill. I scrabbled to follow him, but Nandi was suddenly grasping my arm. I looked up at him, confused.

“Many hurt. We must find them,” he said. He looked absolutely haunted. I nodded and we touched foreheads in a feeble attempt to rally our courage.

As we made our way down the cliff I could see others of the clan heading down into the wreckage as well. The cries of pain began to mingle with cries of horror and anguish. My throat closed and I felt like a lead weight was squeezing down on my chest. I had a sudden horrible image of Kohric lying dead flash through my head; I shuddered. He had to be safe. They all had to be safe. Please.

Without really any planning, the entire clan fanned out of its own accord. There was a kind of unspoken nervousness that coursed through them. The sun was starting to set, and I knew they were afraid of it growing dark before everyone was accounted for.

Nandi and I trotted out into the grass that bordered the beach, ears pricked for voices calling for help. Several trees had been downed, a few completely thrown or twisted into pulp. One was neatly severed down the middle where it had been shoved up against a boulder.

We come to the edge of the damaged area without finding anything, and we swung around to follow the other side of it back to the caves. I was almost beginning to think things may not be as bad as I’d feared when Nandi suddenly stopped abruptly in front of me, sending me sprawling into his hindquarters. I heard him exhale sharply; he let out a horrible little whimpering moan. I looked over his head and felt my blood freeze.

Oshtik.

She was a little, huddled pale lump on the ground, dusted with ash. No, my brain said immediately. This wasn’t what it looked like. No, no! She was sleeping, she’d been knocked unconscious; she was too hurt to walk. My eyes slid over the pointed slice of wood buried between her shoulders, and I found myself stumbling toward her.

This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening. My mind refused to accept what was in front of me. No, no, no! This was a nightmare. This couldn’t possibly be real. This was a research mission. It wasn’t supposed to be this way! This could not be happening!

I sank down to my knees in front of her, my hands clutched at my chest. I know I was moaning, sobbing, but it didn’t feel like they belonged to me. I was alone with my grief. I rocked back and forth, shaking my head. Tears were streaming down my face, down my chin. They made little damp pills in the ash around Oshtik’s cooling body. I kept wondering when I would wake up, praying I would wake up, and that this was all a horrible nightmare.

But the sun continued to set, and Oshtik was still dead.

I wailed my grief to the burgeoning stars.

---

I realized too late that the last two entries parallel real events in the midwestern US. I just wanted to make it clear that this was unintentional. This plot turn was planned over a year ago. Apparently I have terrible timing.

Sirens at the End of the World

Fire.

Eyani, Oshtik and I whirled at the word, and began heading back toward the caves and the rest of the clan. We weren’t the only ones; the entirety of D’Keda swarmed away from the normal chores and moved to cluster near the edge of the cliff face, facing out toward the open grass.

I was surprised to see the fire was so big, considering how wet it had been for the last two weeks. Even from close to a kilometer away, I could easily see it crawling across the areas with dried grass, roiling plumes of dark smoke rising up from the flames. The wind was probably helping. It blew strongly toward us, riding the storm front, and bringing the scent of ash and char to our noses. The sky was an odd shade, even for Minerva; gray-green, with thick grey anvil-head storm clouds rolling across the sky. The horizon was quickly shading to orange as the fire grew.

I don’t have the first clue about fighting a grass fire. My brain was rifling through every incidence I’d ever heard of using fire breaks and removing fuel sources, but none of it seemed applicable to the spreading orange mass consuming the plain in front of me.

The clan was becoming incredibly skittish. I didn’t blame them. Except that most of them were turning their eyes to the sky and not the fire. I began to hear murmurs. “The clouds dance.” I didn’t understand. I looked down at Oshtik; her gaze was riveted skyward too.

At first I didn’t see it. I’ve seen thunderstorms all my life, and the clouds often swirl and roll as they sweep through. I thought nothing of the circular shapes twisting through the sky now. Lightning continued to crawl across the sky; the thunder sounded unnaturally loud to me. I raked my eyes across the clouds. The wind was getting very strong. Tiny bits of grass and leaves stung my legs. I could feel my heart beating faster: what was wrong? Where was it?

Then, almost like a living creature, a portion of the biggest anvil-head suddenly swept downward, forming a dark, roiling funnel shape.

My skin crawled. I felt the hair on the nape of my neck rise, and goose bumps rose along my arms and legs.

Lighting outlined the funnel cloud just as it touched down, throwing up a plume of debris. It twisted slowly, almost gracefully, and danced straight into the worst of the grass fire.

I’ve seen footage of tornados before. Everything seems almost like it’s in slow motion. Your brain can’t wrap itself around the immense scale of what you’re seeing. For a brief moment the scene in front of me felt like that. The tornado enveloped the flames, slowly pulling a column of fire up into the funnel. Pieces of burning debris flared around the base, orbiting the column in lazy circles.



It was eerily beautiful. There were a few flashes of blue or green snaking up the burning column, as the tornado rolled over a patch of ground rich in chlorine salts. It moved inexorably toward us, a fascinating, terrifying monster out of a meteorologist’s nightmare. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The entire clan seemed frozen and the world felt silent. We stared in awe at the destruction moving toward us.

Then someone screamed. My brain shuddered to life. The clan exploded into a surging mass of shrieking, panicked bodies as everyone raced for the relative safety of the caves. I scrambled to grab the kids. Oshtik immediately slipped away and disappeared into the surge. I was screaming after her. Eyani was frozen, his eyes still riveted on the oncoming tornado. I picked him up bodily and pelted along the cliff face, toward shelter.

Debris from the storm swept past us in the high wind. A particularly sharp piece of something sliced past my cheek and I faintly registered that blood was dribbling down my face. I didn’t even feel the cut itself. My entire being was caught up in getting away from the horror behind us. I wasn’t thinking at all. I could feel my lungs surging, and my feet pounding the ground as if they belonged to someone else. There was nothing left of my mind except the need to run, run, run!

There was a growing roar behind us. I sprinted up the path to my cave. Larger debris was flying past now, and the world was narrowing to a hazy grey mass of ash and smoke. I ducked into my cave and crushed Eyani into the farthest corner, behind a bend in the rock. I wrapped myself around him and faced us away from the cave entrance. We huddled together, shuddering, as the roaring of the wind seemed to devour the world. It raged across the cliff face, making a loud shrieking sound as it passed between small flutes of rock.

It sounded like a siren heralding the end of the world.

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.

---

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.

Thanda-tu

It’s been four days, and the clan is starting to slow down a little in its manic quest to stash away food.

I will probably regret saying this when I’m desperately starving in a few months or something, but for now I’m grateful that it’s winding down. I’m not sure how many more hours I can spend hunched over without turning into Igor-Tee. Yeeesss, Kohric, what is your bidding? Agh. My poor spine.

The youngsters were the first to take advantage of the lull. Nyarno practically vanished the minute the adults were looking the other way, with Ghee and Oshtik not far behind. Even solemn little Eyani finished his chores in a hurry and practically danced out into the fields to romp. It was cute. Kohric let me go a short while after, and I may have done a teensy bit of dancing too. I found Eyani and we made straight for the beach.

It hadn’t rained yet, which was a miracle, and the sun was actually peeking through the ever-present clouds. The breeze coming off the water was cool, but it was still warm enough out that the air felt refreshing instead of chill. Eyani and I did absolutely nothing productive, and it was wonderful. No learning, no practicing, nothing. We splashed around in the water, chased a funny-looking crab-lizard thing that I didn’t even ask the name of (hah!), and finally ended flopping under a tree and dozing. It was blissful after so many days of nonstop manual labor.

Eyani fell asleep after a time, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him. I wasn’t feeling sleepy. I’ve never been one to nap, really. So I went ambling along the wrack line to look for shiny pebbles to bring to Nandi (he covets shiny things worse than an entire flock of crows). The poor guy hadn’t gotten away from his chores and I thought a sparkly may make up for our abandoning him to play.

I hadn’t been at it too long when I spotted Oshtik sitting in the sand, looking out over the water. I still haven’t gotten their body language down pat, but I thought she looked rather sad. Her ears were drooping, her posture hunched, and her tail was curled tightly around her feet.

I approached her carefully. “Oshtik?”

She dipped her head and flicked one wrist in a half-hearted mockery of the normal greeting gesture. I sat down nearby and fumbled through my Azu-nah lexicon. The normal question here would, of course, be “is something wrong?” But I don’t know the Azu-nah word for “wrong.” Morality isn’t something that comes up in the day to day struggle to keep the clan fed, or in the little lessons Kohric has been giving. So I muddled along as best I could.

“Do you hurt?” I asked, feeling stupid. I knew that wasn’t the way another Azu would ask. I tried again. “Does your spirit hurt?” This language barrier really sucks.

Oshtik was quiet for some time, and I began to think she may not answer at all, but she finally turned to me and spoke. Her yellow eyes were like two pieces of amber in a bed of gray ash.

“Kohric does not teach today, or the next.” She sighed gustily, her sides rippling. “I will not learn new things for many days. Maybe a hand-and-tail of days!” Her muzzle was wrinkling, and her eyes were scrunching shut. I swallowed a laugh; I have apparently been hanging around with the Azu-nah equivalent of a geeky teacher’s pet, and didn’t realize it. I smiled and leaned to bump my forehead against hers. I ruffled her forelock with one hand.

“I can teach you human words,” I offered.

Oshtik made a delighted sound, haaaa, and surged to her feet. “Yes! Tee will teach? Yes!” Yeah, she’s definitely an Azu-nerd.

I grinned and hugged her.

Outsider

Sometimes I wonder if the world doesn’t like people to get too comfortable. Is there some sort of karmic law that says that things have to get shaken up every few weeks or it will be the end times?

I’m getting ahead of myself.

Today was unsettling. It started off normal enough. Today was a lesson day, so after the morning chores were done and the adults had settled into their routines, the youngsters and I gathered under Kohric’s favorite tree to hear today’s teachings. We were only about fifteen minutes into the lesson, though, when a huge commotion erupted near the caves. There was a great deal of shouting; high pitched, angry words full of the chirping “kheet” syllables.

Kohric and several of the children all rocked back on their hind legs and stretched their necks to see what was going on. Eyani tugged at my sleeve, and I hiked him up on my shoulders for a better look.

Those clan members that had not gone out for the day were boiling out of their caves or dropping whatever chore they had in hand, and were moving to surround an Azu-nah I didn’t recognize. Their movements were harsh and jerky; tails were lashing, heads were waving side to side with aggression, and some individuals even had sticks or other objects in hand, and were brandishing them angrily.

My friends, the peaceful, curious, and accepting D’Keda people, had become an angry mob.

I’ve always thought that thing about the hair on the back of your neck rising was just some literary figure of speech. I’ve even seen people write what I just said in books, and figured it was just to get you into the mood of the story. No, it really does. It’s unnerving, like your body knows you’re in deep shit and your brain hasn’t quite figured it out yet.

Up on my shoulders, Eyani’s hands clenched, and I felt his claw tips digging into my skin. Kohric made a “tchaah” sound of disgust, and said the word “Khee’troch” (the “khee” part is chirped and almost impossible to say with a human larynx).

It wasn’t a word I’d learned yet, but now that I’d heard it I could pick it out in the shouts from the crowd as well. I moved to stand next to Kohric and set Eyani down on the ground. The youngsters were becoming agitated and began heading toward the rest of the mob. Kohric looped his tail around my bicep and pulled me along with him.

“What’s going on?” I asked. I was starting to get scared. The hair-standing-on-end feeling had expanded to that stomach-clenching kind of fear.

“Khee’troch,” he said, and added in English, “One who is—put out of the clans.”

“Outcast?” I said, “You threw him out of all the Azu-nah clans? Why?”

“A khee’troch is dangerous to the clans. He has done great wrong. He is poison.” Kohric’s neck was arched, and his stride was becoming stilted and angry like some of the others.

We joined the semi-circle of angry Azu-nah. They had formed a kind of living wall between the caves and the intruder, and were now shouting and brandishing things at him. The sick feeling in my stomach wouldn’t go away. How could a tribe of people welcome an alien into their midst with open arms, and then do this to one of their own? Even Kohric, so learned and rational, was bristling at this outsider. It was like seeing a university professor suddenly start beating his chest and howling like a gorilla.

The outsider looked pretty awful. He was rangy thin; much thinner than I’d ever seen any of the D’Keda folk. The bones of his tail stood out clearly, and his limbs were all wiry tendon and skin. His face was gaunt, and his mane looked dirty and unkempt. There was a livid yellow tattoo across each of his eyes; a violent, hook-like shape that crossed even his eyelids. His eyes terrified me. They practically burned. They glared around at everyone with such hate that I involuntarily took a step backward.

He boldly faced the crowd and barked once, simply, “I ask for food.”

D’Keda shouted back at him en mass, and a few individuals surged forward in short mock charges. They had their teeth bared. I took another step backward.



For just a moment his eyes turned toward me, burning with malice. I froze mid-step and gaped at him. His mouth parted and he made a breathy “haaaah” sort of half-hiss. For a horrible half second I thought he may attack me. But he turned his baleful gaze away, gave one last snarl toward the crowd, and then turned and fled.

I followed his example, and quickly ducked away in to my cave. I huddled in the corner so no one would see me inside, and shuddered.

The Azu-nah have always been kind and honest to me. Their worst fault is they’re overly curious and a little annoying. I’ve never, ever felt even the least threatened by them. They look so benign. But that one, the outcast… And the way they treated him. I’m not sure which scares me more.

I suddenly feel very, very alone.

Routines

Now that we’ve been settled in once place for a little while, and the immediate problems of establishing a semi-permanent home have been dealt with, I’ve noticed the days have developed into a fairly regular routine.

Every third day or so the hunters will hone their atlatl arrows and head out for the day. Those able-bodied adults left will go out to gather the more time-consuming and energy intensive plant foods; those that require a lot of digging or climbing. “Hunting days” are when Kohric gives the youngsters, and me, our lessons. We spend the majority of the day learning together, and then I spend a little extra time with Kohric after, and he goes over whatever vocabulary, social rules, etc with me that I have questions about.

The day after a hunting day is very busy for everyone. The previous day’s kills are cleaned and skinned. All the meat that isn’t set aside for the evening meal is smoked or set out to dry. Any plant food that is able to be preserved is set out to dry too, or is roasted, smoked, or covered in a thick, waxy, salty crust to preserve it. It’s all a lot of work, and there isn’t time for our lessons with Kohric. Every able hand is needed. The kids act as guards, keeping animals away from the drying foodstuffs. I’ve been helping them, mostly spending my time with Eyani and Oshtik, though Nandi has been showing me some of how to preserve the plants too. No one seems to want me handling the meat. I think maybe they think it’ll poison me just to touch it. It’s kind of cute.

The third day of the routine is a kind of “domestic stuff” day. There’s enough food that only a few groups go out to gather fresh crops. Everyone else is busy working at all the other chores that don’t revolve around immediate biological needs; weaving (cloth as well as baskets), stretching, tanning, and sewing animals skins into useful objects. Some make jewelry and other adornments. Wood is harvested and carved into atlatl arrows, tools, bowls, and some is set aside for firewood.

And then the next day the whole cycle starts again. It’s actually somewhat soothing to have a regular routine to count on. Everything’s been so haphazard since I’ve been here. I was beginning to think the Azu-nah were completely random with how they chose to go about their lives. I’m not a fan of working from dawn to dusk, but it certainly keeps me occupied. The Azu-nah sing while they work, and I’ve been able to transcribe a few of their most common songs. And what’s really great is that I’m getting to slowly know the whole clan. They can’t swarm me as much with their insistent questions like they used to. I can have things at my own pace, which is a big help.

The best thing about the new routine is the evenings, though. It’s slowly starting to get dark earlier, which means folks are still up and awake when it’s too dark to do much work. So the evenings are filled with stories around the fire. Some days it’s a retelling of the day’s hunt, or an anecdote of how someone saw an interesting animal behavior, or a funny story of someone being silly or foolish. But my favorite are the nights when they tell their cultural stories.

Eyani and Oshtik will pile up against either side of me, and we’ll listen to the Azu-nah myths and fables. One individual is by far my favorite storyteller; a dark, shadowy-colored male named Eraan. He even outdoes Kohric (nothing against Kohric, but Eraan just breathes such life into his tales).



He’s even telling a story tonight about how Yusa, the first female Azu, played a trick on Redeka-spirit, which somehow explains why Azus only have three hind toes. It’s apparently Oshtik’s favorite.

I can’t wait.

---

This week's cameo is Eraan, submitted by Zelandeth! Thank you for giving him such a fun character!

Beach Beast

Crap, I got so obsessed with telling the vengeance story that I completely forgot to talk about yesterday! Sorry.

So, yesterday was actually pretty cool. I had another lesson with Kohric, which was fascinating in and of itself. He taught us about the body of water we’re living next to. I know I was already talking about this when we first arrived, but to recap Kohric; it’s pretty much an epeiric sea (which, if you hate geology, means a very shallow ocean sitting on top of a continent). The water is very shallow compared to what a human would be used to, and it’s completely loaded with different living things. Kohric told us all about some of the plants and animals that inhabit the shore area, and promised to go into some of the bigger sea creatures next time. I’m excited.

But the most interesting part of yesterday came after the lesson.

I was playing around on the beach with Eyani and Oshtik. I introduced them to the art of making sand castles (though it probably was pretty stupid, since the concept of “a building” is lost kinda on them). Oshtik was quick to inform me that you don’t build things on the beach, you make pictures and stories.

She even spent a good ten minutes trying to draw me. I don’t know that my pride will hold up to much of this. Even a caricature artist never made my nose THAT big, and it didn’t help when Eyani started praising the likeness. Tee-Tee Huge-Schnoze. Great.

Anyway, I was absently sitting down, doodling a happy face, when Oshtik became very excited and came slinking up next to me, pointing. She was whispering in that excited hush type of voice, like a pro bird watcher who’s spotted the rare Orange Spotted Chocobo or something.

Picking its way carefully through the shallow water was—something. Seriously, I defy you to put this thing into Earth taxonomy. It moved vaguely like a wading bird; carefully and deliberately lifting each foot and then placing it down again without disturbing the water much more than a ripple. But instead of having a long bill down in the sand, it would rest its “forehead” against the water and unroll this long trunk-thing down to the seabed. Every few minutes the trunk would come back up clutching something, and it would shove whatever it had found behind the crescent-head. When it moved closer I caught a very quick glimpse of its mouth as an object was brought up to the head. Its mouth was like a squid, only with far more “teeth.” It was a little intimidating to hear it crunching away at whatever morsel it had picked up.

Oshtik insisted I keep very still, and stay low and quiet. She explained that seeing a ba’oh is very good luck, but only if you do not disturb it. It isn’t something the Azu-nah hunt, apparently. They see it as a guardian of the beach. Through the entire whispered explanation, Oshtik was making these slow gestures; I couldn’t help but imagine her dressed in khaki and talking with a British accent, like one of those video nature guides. It was cute.

The ba’oh (which I keep thinking of as a beach beast) spent perhaps five minutes in our presence, tops. It crunched up several unfortunate sea creatures and then disappeared into a cluster of bushes without a sound.

I like it. It’s nice to see a completely benign creature like this, and get to see it with completely natural behavior. It was very, very cool. I hope I can see another one someday.

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Author's Note:
Because of the time of year, O faithful readers, I am going to be very, very busy. I hate delaying posts or putting them off, which is most likely what would happen a lot over next two weeks. So instead I'm going to put the blog on a mini hiatus. There will be no official update next week or the week after, and I will pick up again starting the 4th of January. I will very likely post a piece of art or two to keep dust from accumulating, but we won't hear anything from Tee until the new year. I hope everyone enjoys their holiday of choice, and that you all have a Happy New Year!

Sticky Situations

It ended up taking four days, and part of the fifth morning to get where we were going.

Nanahan actually did fairly well for herself, all things considered. The Kan’s apprentice already knew how to set up a sling for her leg, so apparently she’s not the first with an injury to a hind leg. Her injury seems to be doing okay. She has been very stoic about the whole ordeal. Even in unguarded moments, the most she'll admit to is that the sling makes her back ache. I've been wondering whether my efforts with the butterfly clips really helped her, or whether she survived purely off her own stubbornness. Talk about being tough as nails. And thanks to her two helpers, Sodaosi and Paksh, she managed to keep up without much fuss.

My taking over her former job was actually a lot easier than I thought. Ghee was by far the most troublesome of the children when I first met them, and I figured I'd be chasing her and Nyarno around constantly. But ever since Nanahan’s injury, Ghee has been quiet and hesitant. The only few incidences I saw any hint of her old self was when another youngster got too close to the edge of the group. Then Ghee would loudly bully the would-be-wanderer back to safety. The adults in the group seemed to be okay with this behavior. I think maybe they felt it would help Ghee come to terms with her mistake. I followed their lead on this. I don’t know enough to make a judgment.

All of Ghee’s bullying meant that the other youngsters turned to quieter items of interest to pass the time. Nyarno was too busy pouncing on each and every moving object in front of him to take much interest in me, but Oshtik and Eyani spent most of the trip practically glued to my shadow.

The first day was fairly dull. I don't think anyone was really complaining, mind. Nanahan's injury was more than enough excitement for the entire trip. But as the day wore on I was starting to get a little bored. The rolling, undulating topography made it hard to see more than a kilometer or so in any direction, and I began to get very tired of climbing down a hill only to have to start back up one a couple hundred meters later. The plants and animals I could see were the same ones we'd had for the last two days, so playing the "What is this?" game with the children got old pretty fast.

By the second day, though, I was lamenting the loss of boredom. The "small biters" that Nandi had described began to appear about mid morning. There weren't many at first, so few that they didn't immediately draw attention. Only enough to make a few clan members swat or scratch absently here and there. But within an hour everyone was scratching, and tiny yellow creatures were humming through the air, seeking whatever soft, yummy piece of you they could find to chew on. The creatures seemed to target Azu-nah ears, and the thin, soft skin around the jaw and throat. They found the same places on me, but also went for the backs of my knees. They aren't blood-suckers, by the way. Which is why, apparently, they found me just as edible. They took little pieces out of your skin, like a horsefly bite. I hope I gave them all indigestion, critical hemoglobin poisoning or something, because their little nibbles hurt like a bitch.

Fortunately, the Aket-oizo called for a pit-stop soon after we realized we were infested, and broke out the repelling sap the clan had brought. I wanted to bathe in the stuff, but I had to make do with slathering it all over every centimeter of exposed skin, and even rubbed it into my clothes a bit. It stank, kinda like mildew or old gym socks. But it could have smelled like rancid elephant puke for all I cared, because it kept those evil little yellow monsters the hell off me.

The biters hung around for a day and a half, and then abruptly disappeared. Oshtik explained (with some clarification from Kohirc later), that they relied on a short, fat, shrub-like plant for moisture. The plant only grew in small pocket populations scattered across the plains. And since there was no rain or other water source for kilometers around this time of year, the biters were relatively restricted.

I was deliriously grateful when they were gone. The repellant sap was a godsend, but we had to keep reapplying it throughout the trip. Otherwise the evil little buggers would immediately home in on a place where the sap had dried and flaked away. And worse, if I didn’t slather the hems of my clothes with it, the beasties would crawl up my pant legs, or down my shirt collar and start taking pieces out of me. So I was sticking to my skin, my clothes, and anything else I touched. I had gummy twigs and leaves in my hair. By the time we escaped the biters’ territory, I felt like a grass version of Swamp Thing.

The Azu-nah seemed to be just as uncomfortable. Eyani was particularly miserable. Everyone with long manes was braiding and tying back their hair to keep it from getting gunked up or sticking to their skin. Poor Eyani kept valiantly trying to scrape his gooey forelock away from his face and tie it up, but hairs kept escaping and were sticking to his nose and eyelids. I took pity on him and bound his entire mane back in a funky French braid thing. It was cute. He looked like a little highbred pony decked out for dressage. He was inordinately happy with it, and predictably Oshtik and Nyarno immediately came running up to me and shouting “Now me! Now me!”

Oshtik wanted me to teach her how to do it herself, and I let her practice on my hair a little. I love how lively her mind is. She’s really, really bright. Nyarno… well.. I only managed to get about half of his done before something small and bouncy flitted across his path and he vanished out from under my hands to give chase. He hasn’t seemed to have noticed his unfinished state yet, and it’s kept everything off his face well enough. So oh well.

The fourth and last full day of our trip was hard. While we’d ditched the biters, we’d exhausted the vast majority of our water supply. Kohric insisted there was plenty of water, both to drink and for bathing, when we reached the new clan site. The water shortage also brought to light the reason for their odd fasting. By now I was absolutely starving. I’d used up the last of my tiny food stash the night before, and I was about expecting to start hallucinating like a cartoon, maybe think the neighbors were walking sandwiches or something. So I finally came out and asked Kohric why we were subsisting off rations that would make Gandhi look well fed.

Our vocabulary gap has shrunk enormously since I first joined D’Keda, but Kohric still had a hard time explaining this one to me. From what I could gather, Azu-nah metabolisms are far more resilient than a human’s. They can drop to very low levels when food is short, and then bounce right back when food sources become regular. The trade off is their metabolisms also require a fairly directly proportionate amount of water to process whatever amounts of food they eat. And, apparently, when an Azu eats very little, the body’s water demands drop substantially. They’ve learned to exploit this quirk of biology to reduce the amount of water (a heavy, energy intensive burden) they need to carry on a journey. Kohric also said the Sa-kudayu prefers to bring very little food so that “we do not move a plant outside its home to take another’s.” That caught me off guard, and had me ruminating for hours after. I would never have thought the Azu-nah had any concept of something as “progressive” as invasive species. They keep surprising me.

The end to my fast came this morning, when we finally reached our destination. I was staggering a little from dehydration, and my stomach still feels like it’s trying to devour my backbone, but we finally, FINALLY made it.

The old clan site was a scrubby stand of trees in the middle of high, rolling, grassy hills. This area is very different. The hills had become flatter as we grew closer, and now we’re on a broad, flat coastal plain. There’s a ridge of high, rocky palisades that stretch along the western side, and down right into the sea. The sea is shallow, only a dozen meters at most, but I only know that from checking out the satellite readouts on the Marco Polo before heading planetside. There are hollows in the seaside cliffs. That’s where we’ll be living. I can’t wait to get moved in. I’ve had enough travel for a while.

But first I really, really need a bath.