Sweeeeet

I followed some bees to a hollowed out tree stump and was delighted to find the comb. He liked honey and this would make a perfect gift for him.

Now I may have an unusual way with wild animals but I found out rather quickly that it did not cross over to bees. I didn't mind the sting so much as my reactiveness to them. Amidst the pain and redness, my eyes began to close with the swelling. Oh what a pretty picture I was. Luckily for me, one of the elder Mistresses knew just what to do. A poultice for the puntures and a foul tasting spoonful or three of something she had brewed up, I swear it had to have been centuries and centuries ago.

I was supposed to stay in the wagon and let the medicine work its 'magic', but instead I took the time to pluck the stray bees off of it, cut the comb and put it in a bowl.

I have to admit I felt a lurch in my heart for a moment when I'd heard the drums announcing a warrior had been brought home for his final journey. It was only a brief fear however. I can't explain how I knew, I just knew it wasn't mine. I could feel him, hear him somewhere inside me still rummaging around, sort of lost, but never the less still there. I had met the paga Master once or twice and had liked him. He would be missed by many.

The celebrations of life and death among my people was as rich in ritual and as ancient as their journies across the plains. I knew he would be involved in the preparations and the ceremonies over the next few days so the honey would wait until after. I knew too that his feelings went far deeper than the surface. The loss of a commander would mean a change in patrols. The loss of a friend would take time to heal.

But just as soon as the drums began to fade, I gathered the bowl and raced out to the herds to find him.

How magnificent he looked when I caught sight of him. How handsome, how rugged he looked. How lonely, how weary he seemed as well. I meant to give him a big hug ... but ...

I tripped over my own two feet, went crashing into him, bowled us both over and smushed the honey and the combs between us. I was horrified and embarrassed at my own clumsiness. Stammering at first trying to apologize, the words just stuck in my throat. Then I began to laugh.

Honey covered Tuchuk

The laughter was still bubbling up when I whispered,'Don't you look sweet?' Then I did what any red blooded tuchuk would do. I kissed him. The kind of kiss that said, I didn't like being away from him for so long.

Later, to cheer him up, I told him the story of how Attila took on the great empire.