Little me

It was early when the forge master sent a slave to find me. I still wasn't quite awake as the thick leather belt was released from my throat to be replaced by the circlet of Turian steel. And I was only a bit more awake when the bit of metal slid into the soft tissue of my nose.
There were tears trailing down my cheeks but probably not for the reason anyone would have thought. See it is not everyday a girl gets a ring especially one she's waited for all of her life. I had and now it was there. If there was any doubts, I had proof now that I was Tuchuk.
The rest was simply understood without words. There had been a time when my favorite book lay next to my favorite chair. There was a chapter marked with the edge of the page turned down I would return to.
The kalmak with the golden bosk horns I'd embroidered around the hem was lain aside. I decided to find another one a bit closer to my size than the one raven had made for me. That one still unnerved me when I put it on. It made me ... feel far too seductive for my liking.
If I'd given a great deal of thought to it all, I would have worried about how I would handle not wishing to be touched by any other man as a camp slave, but there was something else more pressing at the moment. In all I felt a sense of relief that I could have explained to no one else but him. Perhaps he already knew. There was something I had to do, something that sent shivers along my spine with the barest thought. It would all be far easier now.
When I stepped back out into the harigga it was once more as a camp slave. I went immediately to see if I could catch up with a fiesty little tuchuk master that I'd nick named Me too.