Jabberwocky

I've been alone
I've been afraid
Everyone's frightened, everywhere
The sweet Lord soothes our tears
Our many tears
Our world has...many people in it,
People who can be your friends.
But you have many things to learn
Don't you want that?
You have big things
You know big things
But... you don't look into each other's eyes
And you're...hungry for quietness
I've lived a small life
I know small things
I've lived a small life
And I know small things.
But the quiet forest is full of angels
In the daytime there comes beauty
In the nighttime, there comes happiness
I know...
loved ones
I know everyone goes
Everyone goes away
Yeah... I guess so
Don't be frightened
Don't weep
I have no...
greater sorrows than you
~ Nell

Static

Static is the last thing you need when you see me ~Tupac




Awareness was the first sense. Awareness of my own paralyzing terror, slick, hot, creating its own scent. This was what flooded me then filled in the details. I felt the warm softness against my cheek, plushness that held no pleasure in its presence. That breath, masking my face, dampening it with more than its own moisture.

With a slow careful cut of my glance I narrowed in on the small source of light, a saliva coated gleam only a hort away from piercing its way through, the glide of another against the channel of blood that pulsed in my throat held me deathly still. The ripple of fur along the muzzle easing back the red stained lips from the fang. The sound of the warning growl washing over me, caressing the fine hairs on the back of my neck to perfect attention.

It was a struggle to drag air into my completed lungs, agonizing inside of it to remain perfectly silent, perfectly motionless. One precise powerful plunge away from the gnash of those teeth which would sever sight, sound and life as they met. I closed my eyes and willed myself to surge upward with everything that I had. Falling through the barrier above me, forcing myself awake as if sleep itself had a death grip dragging me back in to finish the clamping of those jaws.

I sat up on my furs confused, lost, helpless in trying to understand. To untangle what was real and what was .. something else. I heard the voices of memories in tidbits of sound, like whispers in my head, swirling until they filled the inside of my wagon.

They are dreams

They are just dreams. They are just dreams. It felt like a mantra as I said it over and over again in my thoughts until it gave way to another voice.

Your dreams are powerful.

That was what all of the seers had told me .. all but one.

the past is coming

It can't be that. I have bid my past farewell in every way I know. What remnants that are left are small, lingering only in random memories. Think girl .. think. What are you afraid of?

coming through in your dreams

What could possibly be coming through my dreams?

as fear.

I'm not afraid.

There was nothing I had that was so extreme now to fear. My tests and trials were going well. Could my worry of suceeding be this intense? A bit anxious yes, but I'm not afraid.

Yes, you are but you do it anyway.

Was it acceptance by those around the fires? Could wanting and needing their approval be such a strong emotion that I felt they could snap me in the legth of a breath? They had been so overwhelmingly welcoming that at times it almost brought me to tears. Him? The yearning ache for his love in return that I could summon this kind of terror? He did not scare me like this, not in anyway that compared. What .. what fear did I have that could bring such vision to my dreams?

Free yourself

I'd faced the issues with my father. I had. I had. My mind fretting, fumbling now with all of the unturned stones that could lurk in the corners, creep from the niches.

from fear.

The dawning filled me and I felt the slow rush of breath squeeze from my constricted lungs. I knew that face. I'd seen it before. The last time ... the first time .. I had screamed, covering my eyes, covering my ears and shut out ... everything.

Breastplate of Righteousness

What dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?

Was it the total picture or each of the parts coming into focus that burned itself into the gray matter of my head? The leather clad helmet of battle and the chains that secured it resting inside, the seepage of a wound and mottled stains on the rep the slave carried? The image of the jerkin that fit closely benath all of the warrior's gear or picturing the mount that failed him now laying slain for it's failures?

My invasion of the scene was with a yelp of triumph and the long winded prattle, unleashing the excitement of an accomplishment. I did it! Jaella was there speaking with him of a leather vest she had made for him. Whether it was protective covering to ward off cold, as more padding beneath his coat to defend against a lance or ceremonial dress for his position as Ubar, she was offering him something that was for his benefit and I interupted it all.

It hits me hard now thinking back of how I could have sat there so bursting at the seams proud of having merely gotten Sinewy to accept the blanket while the man rinsed away blood from his injuries ... of how he sat talking with me of my small triumph as if I had conquered the world. One of his kaiila had not turned quick enough to keep him from being injured during a battle. It didn't make any difference if it were a practice spar or the heights of all out war. It had not held to the potential that could have been the thin line between his rider's life or death.

I knew even before he spoke of what had become of the animal, I knew I was about to tread dangerously into the realm of war beasts, of men and death bringers. I offered to help train him. It was too late. There was no remorse in hearing of the demise of the kaiila, the loss was felt more in knowing that the training of the kaiila had failed more than the animal itself. If it were not capable of upholding and defending a warrior during combat then it should never have been saddled as a mount for a commander.

He offered a gift that still startles me in the weight of its responsibility. There were going to be two new foals to train within Fonce's herd. If I made it into the clan then he would like me to train them. There were two things I told him then and there. First that I would consider that a great honor and secondly .. there was no 'if'. I will continue to work hard until I am accepted.

His words echo, 'I will not have a kaiila that cannot dodge a lance .. it is worthless to me'. The safety and well being of as many of the Tuchuk warriors that rode a kaiila lay in the hands of the kaiila clan. In time his safety and well being could depend in part on how well I handled those beasts. I understood the serious far nore now.

Remember

It had begun as a slow ambling ride at the ridge just beyond the harigga. Ebet was keeping a close eye on me and sort of enjoying a few ahn being out beneath the stars as well. Poor Akasha almost got knocked off her saddle when she rode up with Trang. Quick introductions I think prevented a massacre in A minor.

Dang it she had her kaiila already blanket broke, saddled and now she had him out and about for a ride. Big dumb stupid head beast of mine was still munching back at the pens. Smirking no doubt. The lanky pace afforded us being able to talk while the men tuned out the chatter. I have to digress here to say that first, the original idea of revenge had been Akasha's but in confession ... how ... was my idea. Technically Saresh started it all with the stopper. I just thought it needed a little color. Pink was the first choice but in the end reddish orange .. bright reddish orange was going to be the newest fashion, right between the eyes.

There were still things going round and round in my head so I plucked out one that seemed pretty easy going. Did she know how to use a bow and arrow? Sure enough she did and she didn't mind teaching me. I could check that one off my to do list. I eyed her for a moment then threw down that challenge again. Race ya! No real thrill winning by default, takes some of the sass out of the bragging rites. One good tschk of my tongue, a lash of the reins and a rap of my heels in against the stirrups and I was off. I was calling back over my shoulder name the ante .. lizards or eggs. I ended up raising the pot with winner cooks for the loser and betting I could beat the pants off Ebet as a side wager. He said as long as he was in them I was on.

The harigga had no idea we were headed their way at break neck speed. Traversing through gulley washes, urging the beasts up small inclined ditches and leaping a few brush and bramble on our way.I know it was a suicide move but neither one of us could help letting go the reins and throwing our hands in the air. I left a full blown rebel yell echoing across the plains then closed my eyes as it felt as if the wind itself had grown static around Keah and I. I drank it in like a woman dying of thirst, with my hands outstretched as if they cupped the rich velvety blue of the night itself to gulp from.

As we passed the first of the outrider wagons, Akasha was a halter strap behind me, Ebet in a close third and Trang pulling up the rear. I won. I WON!

Maybe we could race at the games next season. Let's see those dwellers try to outrun a plains kaiila. In gasping breaths of thrilled excitement, I asked her if she was ready to go home. She seemed to inhale the word, letting it fill her lungs as I had the savor of the winds. Home.

After seeing the mounts were walked enough to cool them and the lather of their pelts brushed out, she headed for her wagon and I headed for mine. She yelled across the rows just before she disappeared ... Kaiila dreams sister. Remember the taste of freedom today!

As part of each other

I wanted, needed someone to share this overflow of feelings with. If I could not share the shadows or the darkness then please please let me be able to release some of this wonderment with someone. I wanted to run to find him and circle him in peeling giggles and delighted squeals, to share with him how good it felt to have accomplished something. I ran through the rows of wagons, hoping for just one glimpse of the person I wanted to share everything with. How angry or upset it made anyone else didn't matter to me at the moment. I looked and I looked feeling the momentum beginning to fade. It wasn't his steps that I found my feet prancing to in the end. I went where the lure drew me. It was somewhere I had not expected to end up but as I dropped to the ground at the bottom of the last riser and the melody that had been wafting through the harigga became a breathless tangle of unstoppable excitement.

Sweet Tarra. How her eyes lit with tender amusement, listening to it all, encouraging every last drop with the small phrases .. yes? ... You did? How did you do? I just let it all pour out over her as naturally as it came. Wonderful! She was smiling with the kind of smile that lights up the eyes. Yes it was wonderful. The scent so familiar began to tickle beneath my nose ring and at last I looked around. I had interrupted something even though she offered reassurance I hadn't. Even if my fingers never dared to touch the bits of leather, the bundle of sage or the scattering of beads, nothing was left out of my exploring eyes. She knew I had overdone the day with the wince as I moved to sit next to her. I couldn't refuse her beckon any more than the one that had drawn me here in the first place.

You are creating ... I left off the rest having seen prime example of the finished product I noticed here now. She said that the design in the leather would eventually be little boots. I tried to see what she saw through her eyes while she spoke affectionately of how Cana was using the old ways to teach the clan. The practice on your own mount as proof of the skills we were learning. If I wished she would show me how to become one with the animal and for a moment I had to seek the depths of her eyes for the meaning behind her offer. It had a ring to of it of something beyond just the rise and fall of hips in the saddle. Yes. Yes, I would like that. I would know when it was time. Those words didn't seem out of place but understood in a strange way that left me with a sense of peace rather than impatient frustration. Her question of whether I knew how to use a bow and arrow did leave my cheeks a bit washed in color. The last time I had used one was when I was a young girl and it was nothing more than a toy. It seemed enough so that she could continue to ask more. Where did I come from? There is no secret to my origins so that left the topic open for more detail. I began to tell her about the mystical place along the coastline, a place where blankets of fogs and mists rolled over swamps, moss dripped from trees like the twines of serpents ready to plummet. I spoke of the lonesomeness and of the woods and sea that had been my only friends. I look almost the epitome of my mother and try as much as I might I could not see any of my father in me. I have never wanted to so if there was, I refused to see it. There was much of my mother I didn't want to emulate. I loved her dearly but could not see relinquishing the fire of the spirit until there was nothing left but .. nothing.

Reaching out to bring her to me, I delved into who she was, what she was like, wanting so much to know her more. It began by mentioning the mandala she had sent. I knew it was powerful. All doubts of what its purpose was for was brushed away. She spoke of having given me what is part of me. Her belief that she would somehow shock me, somehow didn't. There was much I didn't fully understand but I knew there was nothing she should say or do now that would create more than a blink .. or two. I'm blunt at times, not meaning to pry too deep or to hurt but like another I knew she kept so much of herself guarded .. why did she allow me to be close when she did not others? It was simple. Because I had reached out, without reservation wanting to know. She placed in my hands and in my heart secrets that she shared with only few others. Those I would not nor will not share. They are hers, not mine to give away.

She knew how much love I had for one and wished he could see it. She was concerned of my heart, not wanting to see it crushed. An easy enough reassurance, my heart is still very much strong. I did not tell her it is stronger than even I understand. I have not given up on believing in him. How deeply she cares for him as a friend, as her Ubar was touching. We piqued on the topic of blue. She had tried to speak with Fonce of it and he had hurt her in his anger. Even still she is afraid that there was one that would hurt him, hurt him deeply. Had she not seen, one already had?

Still, there was this deep sense of longing that each could see, we all have something more in common. Maybe not just them but our people as a whole. As part of each other, the unity of our combined strengths could face whatever came. Two is strong, three is a braid unbreakable, imagine the strength of the mighty Tuchuk united as one. It didn't feel like the soft spoken voice of youth that answered her but an ancient one that betrayed more years than just one lifetime. She must rise above his anger and her own, to give in to it gives it power. He has to learn as well and that, that alone will hurt him more than anything or anyone. He has not learned because there was always someone there to offer bandage to the wounds he makes in himself, but no one ever sees to the wound. He covers it with a sling of anger.

Those safer subjects did not afford much safety for either of us when we turned to talk of our families. She knew what depths a mother's love could feel in the turning loose. For me in the beginning, becoming a slave was escape from things I could not race far enough through the galaxy to get away from, only to find they were welcoming committee right here when I arrived. I knew I could not remain a slave. What was it I saw behind those dark eyes of hers when she told me that was not my destiny. That I had become so much more than now than I knew. Who I was ... and what I want.

I ventured carefully to tell her there had been someone there with me to look over me when I was a child, to watch over me. I wanted her to know that I felt it was time to give back. Whatever it was. In time she reassured me, in time I would know until then she wanted me to know that just being me gave much all on its own. And in the softest of voices, like the whisper of a wind she told me I still had someone looking over me, whether I knew it or not. How quiet her voice was when she said he protected me still.

Then could she tell him I needed a good sit down talk? .. could she tell him for me?
I wasn't ready to hear what she said next ... 'I think you know how to do that'

Popping a cork

It was a good thing I was in such a good mood when I found the fires. Akasha was asking if I had gotten the things she sent over when blue popped right into the middle of the conversation to offer service. It grated on the edge a little but I wasn't about to insult the other woman to give in to the demand for attention. That is exactly what it was. It was all the more evident in, when she didn't get it immediately, the slave just up and walked away. It was not the first time she has done this but she was not in my service then, not in my space when she did it. I had already meant to speak to her of the last time but then I had been pretty busy with important matters. This time I wasn't going to let it go.

The other apprentice and I discussed the health, welfare and healing of some of the mounts we had been caring for. These initial trials could mean the make or break of our futures but far more importantly was the future of those that would ride them. In the meantime I found a point that I could call the slave to me. I did however leave her there at my boots to stew while I continued to talk of Sinewy and Akasha's beast and the wounds he had on his side.

So now that the girl had my full undivided attention just what it was she was offering when she interrupted moments before? Yes, I knew it was service even before she tried the rote answer. She was going to act as if she were confused about the question. Did she cease to offer it when she did not receive immediate attentions? No? Then why did she walk away? She was stoic in her response that my looking at her and my not responding to her plea to be able to serve was a silent gesture that she was not needed. Seemed like she needed a good lesson in silent gestures to me. Probably more so in respect and the basics of service. She wasn't mine or I .. I am not sure what I would do to her, yes I do. I knew Fonce had taught her better but her actions made him appear to be an inept Master. I know full well he isn't so I do not lay blame in his training of her. I proceeded to explain in slow, simple terms that I had looked at her because she had interrupted and if I had no wish for her service she would have been given notice, a word, a signal that couldn't be misunderstood. Did I want anything from her now? I was hungry and thirsty and I ached from the morning's work out but I was too angry now to enjoy the appeasement. What I wanted now was for her to see to the others, really hoping she could show the pride of her collar in doing so. I almost popped a cork when she interrupted someone else's conversation. Great skies, I thought Sinewy was stubborn. That was two. I let her know that she had just done what she had been reprimanded half ihn ago. And she gives me that huh .. duh look. She was in Seth's service by then and I would not insult his abilities to handle the slave. But she had one more in my book before I would take action. There are some that would not have the patience to give that much. I've seen hardened Masters in even the cities that would have ended her on just that first one. I did care for the girl but if someone fed her to the sleen I would not have had to ask why.

But speaking of popping a cork .. while I was talking with blue, Saresh had popped Akasha with a bota stopper saying that he was aiming at some big squishy bug. Then, Seth and Silken had approached and blue was sent to dance for the iron master. It wouldn't matter if blue kept it 'R' rated or plunged the moves into those pawpittipawtapaw backed porn positions, I figured it was time to snag Akasha and go for a ride. Maybe she snagged me but we got out of there fast before Silken rocked the girl's world in a way no pressure backed bottle cap ever could.

Back at the pens, the other woman and I took out two of the more intermediately trained rides. I knew one was built for speed and the other good at jumping. We tested their skills in many ways. The cutting abilities was a bit loose to me, the turns not quite tight enough. I worked Keah over and over making the swing was a little closer each time until he began to try to knicker. One quick pull on the reins and a solid thunk of my heels into his flank sent a mixed signal that dug his haunches in tight. We would try again with sounds and touch of approval when he did well and a firm hand when he gave me attitude. An idea was forming, and it was something I was going to talk to Vreeland about later. That would wait a while especially since I'd snitched his extra pair of leathers when my skirt was too tight to saddle up. I'd hitched them on with a rope belt beneath my dress. It would do for now.

Feeling a bit feisty now, I challenged Akasha to a ride. Let's see what the beasts were made of. It would be an out across the plains to the outcrop of rocks then off to the stream to let the kaiila have a drink. I have no idea where .. but I lost the woman. I, myself, was lost in the first real ride of freedom. I do admit I left a cussing kicking warrior soaking wet when I raced past him sending up plumes of water to douse him good. Yes, I know ... that was cold.

First Taste ...

of Sin

Take me down to the paradise city,
Where the grass is green
And the girls are pretty
Oh, won't you please
take me home
~Guns and roses

I rolled out of my furs dressing for the rendezvous I had planned every detail of. I grabbed a bota of water, some jerky, the thread bare blanket and jammed my feet into my boots. I was grinning by the time I jumped off the platform with one thought in mind ... Tall, dark and handsome here I come. I was still feeling plucky when I slid between the rails and stood right there in front of him, letting him know what I was there for and how serious I was about it all.

Tuchuk males have a glorious ego and his was highly offended that I could even think of such a thing. No one was going to tell him what he was or was not going to do, not even one he sort of liked .. a little. Taking the ends of the blanket, it caught in the air to spread and was snatched with an ease and tossed right back in my face before it could flutter down.

We can make it happen, we can make it happen ... yeah!

There were a few more attempts before I finally figured out I was going to have to change tactics. How about a little bit of soft purred coaxing?

Please. It will be so goood.

It did get me a bit closer, allowed me to sidle up to him all snugly comfortable, thinking yeah baby that's it, yes, yes!

That was the first time I felt the dust meet my butt. Not the last .. oh no. I am a stubborn woman and I was determined. I kept getting up and trying again.

Let's get this over with. You want it, you know it. Come on, let's do it.

No?

Ahh, a whole different idea sprang in my head. A sneaky one. Misdirection. I'm going to go now .. you win. I give up ... See I ammmm walking away annnnd I am never coming back. Ambush .. it worked!

No it didn't!

By now I was exhausted, breathing hard, my dress ripped in a few crucial places, dirt ground into my knees, into the leather on my back, bits of dried leaf in my hair, limping, feeling thoroughly ravished. Oh skies yes, I wanted another taste of that and I blew him a kiss on my way back to the wagon.

No big, dumb, stupid head kaiila was going to get the best of me and Sinewy had just better get used to that fact. I would be back.

Loose Ends

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me
and I walk alone
~Green Day

How are you doing? It seems like such a simple question to answer but all of the vast feelings within were leaping and jumping ... 'pick me, pick me'. The turbulence beneath the surface wasn't going to be denied by the woman asking me. The fact that I had a home now that I could call my own she knew well was not the prize that I have sought all my life. On to the next safe topic, work with the kaiila was going well I thought and of course I had my sisterhood and all of the closeness that they offered. The emptiness left balancing in the air with all of the things that were not there. The crash course on how to be a Tuchuk freewoman was hard for me acclimate in and still retain sanity. Other women had a lifetime to learn the simplest of things and work their way up to the tougher ones. I'd had what .. a hand now? I felt like a performer in a complicated balancing act. There were a lot of plates that were threatening to slow down and wobble before I could get another one up and spinning.

Something I had picked up out of a previous conversation I brought up now in the privacy. I didn't want others to realize I didn't know. It was half question and half statement of dawning. Fonce was my guardian. In some recess in my head it was obvious but wasn't allowing it to dawn on me. He was the one that would see to my protection, to my safety. He had many women under his protection. I was no different than any of the others that came to the first fires without family. Cana was my sponsor to the clan. The rest was up to me. I guess I had hoped to have someone more objective to talk to, less ensconced in my life to be able to turn to for advice. My voice seemed to be mumbling from somewhere far, far away when I said I would tell him thank you for all he had done for me. Yes, the loose ends were being tied together. It was surpise that drew me back to hear that she didn't think he needed that. Now instantly in my head I was hearing raven's voice telling me not to ever try and get close to him again. Was she telling me the same thing? Had I hurt him yet again with my ignorance and naivety? Skies just lay me deep and wide right now. It didn't seem to matter how close or how far away I was, I was just good at it. So when she offered advice I greedily gobbled it up. He was my protector and would meet only the basic needs, as much as a man can, anyway. He would be the one everyone went to when I became trouble. For the rest I was to seek her. She would decide what he needed to be informed of.

The mention of brideprice ripped through me. Much of the discussion had to be through a steel wall of resolve to keep from breaking in two right there. One day a warrior would go to him to speak of mating and Fonce would set my worth. How I stammered over that, trying to find the right way to ease out one of those throat choking admissions ... I ... I was ... I wasn't ... I would not bring any price. It was the first thing that I felt sure of, had any confidence in at the moment. I wasn't ...well ... new even if I wasn't wanted for .. that or even for the lack of it. I remembered the echoing whisper against my ear that spoke of what I meant, what value I had ... nothing. At the time I had not been able to disconnect the sound of someone elses' voice rasping those same words. I'd been trying to shake it, to try and breathe, to stay alive and still thrive but it haunted me. She was trying to erase it all away with the fiery words she threw at me .. No I wasn't .. I was but what I was now was a Freewoman of the Tuchuk and worth as much as any among them.
I didn't want to think of anyone else in my life, I didn't want to think about someone going to him to ask for me. All I wanted to focus on was becoming Tribe, becoming part of the clan. Doing that meant I would have to face the rest of the emotions that were still kicking up such a ruckous but for now it was one thing at a time. I had my lessons, I had my tests. I needed to focus on them. Winds let me just do one thing right for a change. Was I sliding into some nameless abyss, losing my hand hold on what I was doing and where I was going. Still there was that soft voice that slid beneath it all beckoning me to follow. 'Trust me.'

I had. I would. I did.

Opening up why I was feeling as I did was something she needed to know, to understand. I was watching the reaction on her face and found myself begging inside nooo please don't do that .. don't laugh and as the expression changed I found myself pleading noo don't cry either. The whispers were confided in whispers that still wrench something inside of me. I could see her adding these things to what I had already spoken of and spoken to me about before. She had been the only person that knew what I had seen in my dream. The only person that had ever asked and she understood why I had I had done what I had done, the choices I had made. Part of me believed he knew too, that it was why he had never let me fully explain. It was better than accepting the alternatives. I could still hear her words trailing from previous conversations in my thoughts that he was a man that walked alone, that if there was someone for him, she was not someone anyone had met thus far.

My penchant for changing subjects she knew was when I had come to a place that was too hard to continue. I could always come back and pick up the path with renewed energy and vigor. There was Duran, Petra, Ebet, Vreeland and Barhk that helped watch over me and no I could not forget Rook. The list could rattle on and on. I could work and do mean work hard for the kaiila that I had picked out as payment for him. My lessons in saddle training would be with the dark tem colored male.

We spoke of tender topics in a way that allowed us both to skate on a glassy surface. The past was easiest to speak of love .. first loves. The man she mated had been much like Edmund, someone that time had allowed us to begin to know in innocence and continue to grow. Did I remember when we talked of destiny? She felt as if her former mate had been part of her destiny, the one that led her from being the scared little girl to the woman she was today. I didn't feel that way about Edmund. He had been my world, one that felt as if it ended when he died. And what I felt now was far different.

It was her turn to confide in me, some of that was hers and hers alone. A portion too was that in a way she felt as if this man was a part of my destiny. That much I did feel. Whatever inkling, whatever touch of knowing I had inside of what my destiny truly was, it would not unfold until I made my way back across the harigga to stand tall and be able to say with every bit of what was inside me ... I am a proud Freewoman of the Tuchuk.

Pink Ribbons

Instead of trying to reproduce exactly what I see before me, I make more arbitary use of colour to express myself more forcefully ... To express the love of two lovers by the marriage of two complementary colours ... To express the thought of a brow by the radiance of a light tone against a dark background. To express hope by some star. Someone's passion by the radiance of the setting sun."
Vincent van Gogh

I am meeting the women of the plains, of all clans, of all walks of life and they in their own way come to tell their stories. It is written in the depths of their eyes, the lines of their cheeks, the hollows around their mouths. Their caring, their compassion, their passions all dancing like little words across pale parchment. The strength that comes from a place within is carved in the line of their back, straight, proud, true. The weight of not only their world but those they love held on their shoulders poised to look as if it were merely a feather. Whether their knees have folded to bring their chins down, or they stand tall and defiant, they do not break. They bend in the winds, gentle, graceful and more beautiful than anything I have ever seen. As they wove the tales of those they have lost, the courage that puts one foot in front of the other when they thought they could not go on, the love they have an overabundance of to give and share began to appear like myriads of pink ribbons, laced, knotted tied to a frame we call life. When you stand back you see that the hollow center is where they meet ... a dream catcher swaying, darting, blowing in the wind. One that captures all of the nightmares and holds them suspended, incapable of passing through and letting only the sparkle of light in, the glittering jewels of hopes and dreams adding beauty as they embellish what is already a work of art.

Each one has touched me and left behind the caress of who they are, what they believe, and the overflowing of their hearts. I hear them. I see them and they fill me with awe.

Slowly I begin to add my own delicate pink ribbons, weaving them amidst the many that have come before, a small part of those that will follow.

Traveling Leathers

Please. I know that you're tired, okay, but you can't give up, the Pants will give you a miracle, you have to believe.

The Pants have already worked their magic on me. They brought me to you.



There is never any predicting what the topics will be when you approach the fires. I managed only to catch the tail end of pink ribbons. There will come day when my curiosity becomes my downfall but I am still fearless enough to ask what Ina was talking about. She and Cana began to explain that when one fails to pay attention to what is happening around them, they may wake covered in pink ribbons and paint. Sort of the trimming around the outside that keeps everything focused to the inside. It wasn't the rite of passage I had thought in the beginning and in a way it is. It's an inside joke shared among friends. I have to hand it to Saresh, he sounded convincing when he said he was not afraid.

It was my first time to actually meet the singer, Ina. There was something different about her and instantly I liked her. Maybe it is the quiet roar I hear in her, a symphony of sounds all whispered acapella. I've not heard her songs but I've heard speak of them, speak of the beauty of them, the heart and life which she gives them. When she spoke of a song for our clan, it touched me and at the same time ignited a burning inside. I wanted to hear, I wanted to add her to those I wanted to know.

There was another woman who joined us as well, the other apprentice that I'd met so briefly before, Akasha. She and I both sat listening as the others told the story of the warrior that was turned into a lizard. I think there was a mutual feeling that we wanted such tales as our own but being so new, we only had those from far away, from the past .. we only had the tales of our beginnings. A blank canvas with small dabbles of paint that had yet to have any shape or form.

It is usually late when I leave the pens and make my weary way to the first wagons, looking for someone to talk to, people to surround myself in so that I do not feel so alone. Even when my eyes are so heavy they can barely remain open, I am there soaking in the warmth, the stories, the hospitality. The night gave way to leaving just Cana, Akasha and I to the embers of the fires, well Saresh too but we didn't hear much from him. I thought of tying him in pink ribbons but there is that old saying about don't start nothing you aren't ready to back up. Among us women however the topic of the kaiila can burn away ahns and Akasha and I were hanging on every word of wisdom Cana could provide. Not just about the beasts but of living as well. She told us to carry an extra set of leathers to the pens with us so we didn't have to go streaking through the wagon. Leave it to the warrior to pipe up and add his disappointment.

But back to the extra clothing ... this did leave me at a bit of a disadvantage. I had two dresses at the moment. One that was too nice to wear while working and the other Fonce had given me. I finally managed to take it in so it no longer swallowed me whole but it had been by firelight and in a hurry hurried. I liked the feel of the hem as it tapped against my shin and knees but if something happened to it I would be a cooked vulo. That was when Akasha offered to send a few things over. It was such a generous gift. Cana said she would send kasra to help make them fit. Seems none of us are very good at seams.

Of all the hazards you prepare for with the kaiila, there is always one that you least expect. One of the creatures made a snack out of her hair. A woman's hair is her glory, the good reverend used to say, and here among the plains, it is the glory for all. While Akasha and I talked, I smoothed her braid tighter and laced the tether down in long criss crosses so that the frayed ends could have chance to grow out with the rest. Of all the things that the edge of my little blade would come to know over time, its first use would be to help return the glory her hair.

I was learning how clans stick together, take care of their own. But the bond that had begun to form that night between the three of us went further than the work we do with our hands, it was forming of something deeper than just clan.

Roar

In the grey area between night and day, in the transition between awake and asleep, lies the world of dreams, a world of strange juxtapositions, of fears and loves, of the subconscious desires of the soul. This state, living on the edge between order and chaos, echoes the phase transition between solid and gas, between predictable, fixed structure and fluid, indeterminate freedom. Here, in all complex systems, resides the magical world of life, that state in which nature transcends mere being and erupts into a kaleidoscope of dynamic changes, a dance of delight in the beauty of creation.


The skin of the bota I had turned up was talking to me but it had Barhks's voice. I finished the deep swallow and brushed the rest off my mouth with the back of my hand, very pleased to actually find the gruff old man standing in front of me. He motioned to a nice little knot on the fence rail to sit so we could talk. I was tensing up to hear all about making them wait earlier but he surprised me. He wanted to know about my hesitance with Sinewy, not the waiting for him to still but the ... before that ... part. I tried to hem and haw around the subject but he can be very persuasive or maybe just down right persistant. With a long sigh I decided to just go ahead and let him know .. I was nutso, crazed, loose a few wheel lugs. He listened with a nod now and then and a hmm or an I see but he never did have that ... that explains everything ... she's loco, look. He began very slowly as he wove the tale of his first experiece ... real experience with the kaiila and some of what I had just described. He said he felt as if a crimson flood had begun to rise around his boots, threatening to swallow him up whole. My turn to listen with a nod, a hmm and an I see. More than once since I have come here, someone will step out of the shadowbox that I have them in. Barhk did that now in that rich gruffness to explain that what I had felt everyone has within them, only they don't know it. In Too Ition. I had to smile as he phrased the word thinking he was going to have to explain its meaning ... slowwwwly to me. It was the connection we all have to each other and to what is around us. We tune it out, disregard that it is there but something will bring it to focus and we experience it full blown, new as if it was something strange, terrible or odd. Some he said may never give it a second thought continuing on as if it never happened and some will carry what they hear or see with them a lifetime. It was as if he was waiting for some answer for me as he stood up and struck the side of his leathers sending a plume of dust in the air.

It all depends on what you do with it.

Rings

I was caught in the middle of a rock and a hard place and
I needed a soft place to fall
Then you showed me the reason to rely on my feelings
I had nothing to fear at all
~Oleta Adams

Beginnings without ends. It was what was going through my head while I touched the healing salve into the nostril of one of the mares. The rings of wagons, nose rings the women wore, rings of steel the slaves wore, nose rings the bosk and kaiila wore, rings of fire, birth and death ... the circles of life. Those thoughts never took off to go anywhere but returned right where they began .. just that idle thoughts. I knew there was something to them, some revelation beneath the dizzying swirl but it was lost on necessity as I went to the next mare.

Cana had asked that I help the men ring some of the new colts and to see the healing salves were used on two of the recently ringed mares. Calamity was going to be just fine. The piercing was doing well and already beginning to seal up leaving the ring to slide easily in the opening. It was the one I called Molly that I was concerned over. She had jerked against her tethers just as the nose ring was being slid into place, ripping the tender membrane. Not bad, just enough that meant extra attention. That was why I called her Molly ... unsinkable Molly. The ring was affixed but she had at least let her captors know that she held fire in her soul. I know the area is sensitive and I tried to be gentle in trying to calm her enough to dab the poultice where it needed to go. It was not going to be until I grabbed the bridle and forcibly held her still that I managed to get it swabbed good. Giving her a good pat along the silky maw, I found myself cooing soft sounds to her to let her know it was all going to be alright.

Barhk was getting impatient, boot toe tapping with his arms crossed, one eye half closed by the time I had the jars put away. 'There is a whole herd to take care of and you are lingering over one high strung female'. I never gave a thought to telling him that, first ... it was what I was told to do and, second ... she was just as much part of the "herd" as any of the others. We didn't have time to finish the argument when a shrill whistle signaled that the others had the first colt roped, ready to ring. There would be nine in all that would bear the gleam of metal in their snouts.

The first three I held the rings ready to offer, safeguarding them and having them available as soon as the handler had the beast subdued. The next two I was allowed to help hold the ropes, not that I felt I could have done so all by myself but even though it took two to three others as well, I could feel the power and strength the creatures possessed. The following two, I was handed the jar of salve and as soon as the ring was settled in the membrane, I leaned in to lather it onto the wound. I didn't come away from the last one pristine clean but covered in the spray of blood and medicine she snorted out. It would be the last two that stayed with me long after I left the pens. For these, it would be by my hand.

He was massive even for a plains mount. Sinewy, with an untamed spirit that was fighting to the very last not to go down. His struggles took an extra man to cinch up in the ropes enough for me to step in with the little circle that was to change his life. I knelt one knee against the side of his throat to help secure his movement and was just about ready to glide the sharpened point through the tissue when he bucked his head. There was no time to think or be scared. I leaned in closer so that my weight light as it is pressed him back down. The shriek was deafening so close. I could see the defiance in his eyes and hear the terror in his cries. For what felt like an eternity in one moment, I could hear inside of him. Not just him but all of them. I could feel the wounded wild spirits of everyone ... feral, domestic, animal, human ... all of them bleeding inside, whispering screams. It was a lonesome melody and song of hope. Transfixed there, poised motionless I just spoke softly to him ... 'I hear you' and as he stilled that beginning without end found its home. I looked up, looking for Cana, looking to see if maybe she had heard it too. When my eyes caught hers she simply nodded and went right back about what she was doing.

I stepped back and turned to catch the rail. I didn't want to face the next one. Thoroughly sure I could not go through that again, but Trang was calling my name and saying hurry up, they couldn't hold it all day. They weren't going to let me give up and I wasn't about to let them down. I was prepared for the wheeze, trying to steel myself against it but it never came. The first was still echoing even after the colt was up and on his claws again, tossing his head and almost prancing with his new prize. It was over before I knew it. I had simply stepped in at the right moment and done what I was supposed to do. Maybe it should have felt anticlimactic after what had transpired before but I was energized with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Even Trang's hard club of my shoulder, that almost knocked me off my feet, couldn't slice through the feeling.

I'll speak with Cana about the one I call Sinewy later.

Pieces

When I made my way back from the kaiila pens, Duran's mate Petra, met me with some eggs and a proposal. I could share her vulo pen on the condition I help take care of the vulo and gather the eggs. One of them I could keep and all the eggs she laid would be mine. All of the chicks that hatched from that vulo would be mine as well. I felt good about the trade.

Seemed I also was proud new owner of a storage pit already laden with botas of water and jerky too. Almost tripped over it on my way back to the wagon and if it hadn't been for 2nd son of Ebet, I'd be limping. I wasn't sure if this was where the wagon was really supposed to be but if it is moved at least Petra will have another place to keep things cool. There were sacks of dung stacked against a wheel as well. Some little giani had been busy.

It all made for feeling pretty good by the time I made it to the fires. Aiyana gave me a piece of a blanket she had woven, actually she was sharing the bits of the whole with everyone, free and slave alike. I understood that it meant something to her making the piece of pastel with little beads in the middle held in my hand mean something to me. You had to have been there on the trail north as part of the first conversation about patches to know why. We had been making plans to meet on top a wagon and look out over the stars when a kaiila came racing through the rows like a startled vart out of a cave. The rider yanked the reins back so hard the beast had to rise up to keep the bit from doing any damage and then ... the man did a dive off the animal's back, not a dismount ...a dive. Served him right to land flat on his own and twist his ankle. That is no way to treat a beast.

I couldn't believe he could be so callous when Aiayana offered him his bit of her creation. I know men of the plains are tough but down right insultingly rude? Turns out this was the man who was going to give me my first test as a prospect. You have to understand I am sitting here scratching my head over the whole thing. Here are the questions he asked, that seemed to be the hinge of whether I was worthy to be a member of the tribe ...

What is a Leonette?
What does that make me?
Did I want to grow?
Who are my people?

Leonette is the name of my mother's mother and her mother before her. It has been passed down through the generations. The meaning behind it is the lioness. I translated that into terms that could be understood. My name did not make me anything. I didn't share how much pride I had in that name, the history of how and why it had been handed down. After seeing how he treated Aiyana and her gift and the meaning that had it had come from, I was not about to let him insult my mother or hers. Instead I held to the simple facts, I am a new prospect learning of the kaiila clan and learning how to offer back to the Tribe. Of course I wanted to grow, I wanted my people to grow, each as individuals and as a whole and I wanted to be part of that. The last question was what was strangest. I had no idea what other answer there could have been.

He said he asked questions that may seem obvious so he could judge how I answered. Then told me to be prepared to be tested. I just looked at him then, studying his scars, his features, expressions and mannerisms. I thanked him and let him know I would be as prepared as I could be. That was when he mentioned that some tests you can't be prepared for. Go ahead, ask the skies how well I understand that, he and they may as well toss a few more 'cause the last ones I may not have passed or even actually failed but danged if I wasn't still here. I would meet them just as I had all the rest, with a sense of right and truth and maybe fairness. No promises on that ... I was learning fast that life isn't exactly fair, so I added 'or instinct' on the end of that. His advice was to stick to instinct. That was pretty good advice all things considered but then you have to consider too some of my instincts come from being around wild animals. I was already on my way to the pens when he made sure to tell me I was dismissed, offering what his name was only when was about to turn the corner of a wagon. Shi.

I stopped off to get some more salve for the kaiila's mouth. He never did check to see if he had hurt it. What people forget is that no matter how domesticated a wild animal is ... at some point it can revert back to its natural state if provoked.

Change_ling

The intensity of all the changes was immediately evident the next morning at the fires. As I approached, I knew I had to begin making decisions on my own, even the smallest of ones. I could not simply settle at his feet and wait for his beck and call. Where should I sit? Close to where he was? Across the fires where I had seen other prospects go? Turn around and haul my butt as quick as I could back to where I came from .. well I couldn't do that. That was a one way ticket through a door that led me over and over again right back ... here. There was no going back, not to being slave, not leaving my beloved plains, no ... back to the comforting feel of my tree house. There was only forward, to wherever it was I was so hell bent on going. I chose a spot on the steps of a wagon. Whose, I don't even have a clue.

The conversations with the stranger across the fires was tentative to say the least. Talk was of trivial things that filled the silences. As much as it felt like a knife slicing through me to see one of the new slaves absorbing the warmth of leather, she was a welcomed distraction of his focus. That does not mean that something in me didn't wanted to rip the throat right out of the smart mouthed hith slithering over his boot when she made crude reference to my rise from the kneelers clan to glory. In a way too, I felt a loving lingering stroke through the fur. The growling rumble of a warning did not come from me but from him. He did not defend the changes in me but called attention to the fact that she had said all of this in his space not mine. He was laughing to himself as he watched me.

So many intermingled emotions rose just beneath the surface as Falon arrived. Would the friendship we have, survive the rise off my knees to stand next to her? Would she welcome me as a peer? She greeted me with open arms and the one word that held more healing than any contents of the vast jars on her shelves ... Sister. I knew the meaning behind it, more than blood, more than flesh, a piece of the heart ... kindred. I melted into her arms. 'What, did you think we'd string you up and beat you till you decided to return to what "other" wanted of you?'

'What do you need?' Skies ... need??

I had no idea. I ticked off a list of what had been given to me. I didn't like the feel of charity but I did understand the love that was behind each of the gifts. Would they understand I wanted to earn my way honestly? The jitter of my nerves, the deep down desire to want to do well, not embarrass the man that had set me free on more levels than what the eye could see. I don't like change even if it is for the good. I liked my "things" to be right as I left them even if I didn't know where they were and had to go on some bizarre journey looking for where it was I last put them and new "things" meant finding a place to put them? The skies had breezed in and blown everything into one huge pile in the middle that took all of my focus to sort through. It had set my stomach in turmoiled flutters that at some points became so intense I could not focus on what was around me.

Next thing I knew Falon was getting intense with one of the slaves, noodle to be precise. It took a few moments to cut through the boil of acid to realize they were talking about Mayala. The woman had not been at her wagon for days. I had a few encounters with her that had left me so totally confused, I wasn't sure how I felt about her. Love her, hate her, feel deep empathy for her plight or begin speaking in tongues to exorcise the demons, she was Tribe and concern was real and tangible for her well being.

I watched the circle around the fires from two sides of the reins, knowing now what could be seen through the eyes of free and slave alike. Doing so felt like a fog holding me silenced, gagged by something unnameable, keeping me mute.

It was the serpentine bundle of flesh that I sent off to bring me a bowl of blackwine. Unless you know the true feel of containment, you will not understand the full extent of yearning for what you had been denied. I wanted that brew to be laden with everything that could be put in the steaming drink. So hot that it singed, so strong that it curled my tongue, so tainted that it was an assault to my taste buds. I didn't want it offered from blue, sweet creature so withholding of her own beauty and inner strengths that she believes herself invisible. No matter how much the girl meant to me, I wanted it offered from the fiery Tuchuk wench that had brought up the changes I was experiencing with such detachment. I wanted her to offer it from within that brazenness .. into 'my' space. I savored the taste of it all. In that one moment I didn't feel the overwhelming pressures of this new path. I didn't feel the overshadowing prospect of being a prospect. It felt so good that I could feel the leather of my dress have to expand to contain the razor peaks.

It was from inside the dangerous sphinx-like calm that it all seemed to bring, that I watched Fonce' reactions to Sahli. From the excited gleam of his new friend arriving to the wide eyed boyish curiosity and petulance over a new toy all the way to the burning jealousy that sparked behind his eyes. He was a palette of emotions. Even as he stormed from the fires in his impatience to find the man after having just sent him on the errand in the first place in a spew of oaths, it was delightful to watch. Even more amusing that the two passed among the rows without ever finding each other.

Sahli was to make a kite. Such a simple thing. Falon and I could help him make his own later but for now the whole world hinged on this one small moment. I sent blue off to my wagon for the ball of string. The same one that had unraveled over the top of Fonce' boot so long ago. But it dawned on me I had used that personal possessive pronoun and it felt strange, odd. That thought tangled up however when she ended up bringing back the whole basket instead of just the twine. I would have to make a stop back by the wagon to put it away before heading to the pens. The drummer did stop me in my tracks as he bid me farewell. He was the only person that did not trip all over my name. His hesitance was only in giving it punctuation, accent .... meaning. There was deeper respect forming for the young man that often reminded me so much of Me Too.

On the way back through the rows of wagons, I bent with the basket tucked at my hip to line up stray shoes back on the old woman's platform. They were helter skelter in, around and about the alley where she had thrown them at me over time. Now I put them all back where they belonged, tucking them in with a loving little pet of my fingers.

A tisket, a tasket, red and yellow basket

Strong hands
Big plans
All reduced to this.
Hard won Freedom
How could you have missed?
Scared, are you?
You do it on your own
You do it all alone.
We all did.
Scared, are you?
Half the lines we make up dear
The best that you can do
Everything you would be
Pass you like a ghost.
And kind words are scarce at best
When you need them the most.
Scared, are you?
You do it on your own
We all did.
Scared, are you?
Half the lines you make up here.
The best that we can do.
Hope brings you luck
Doors open up.
And if you should fall,
I'll catch you dear.
It must be!
It must be!
Scared, are you?
Finally on your own
You do it all alone
We all did
Scared, are you?
Half the lines you make up dear.
The best that we can do
And we do
~Better Than Ezra

The walk across the harigga became accompanied by the sounds of the drums. He had to have gone straight to the drummers for the staccato beats to begin so soon. I did smile a little wondering if the herald was offered by the hands of Sahli but knew it lacked the depth and soul the man offered the winds in his messages. It was alright, they simply spoke of the end of a slave. Not missing or dead .. just one that no longer existed. No matter how small, lost or alone I felt at the moment, they didn't speak of a woman without any heritage, without family ... a stranger. They spoke of a woman named Leonette who sought to make a place among the Tribe. As they pounded out the images of the rains, the sky, the grass and the bosk .. of learning and growing, of strength and heart over the camp, I made myself a promise to live up to the thunder that the music represented. The beat of those drums, the tap of my hem and the thud of my heart set my pace and lifted my head higher.

Fonce had told me to stop by the slave wagon to gather whatever things I wanted to keep, but it was passed without ever slowing down. What little I had, rested beneath a storage wagon among the kaiila clan. As I made my path further on, I did leave something, there with the memories of the girls that I had served side by side with, had grown close to, had cried and fought with, I left the best of wishes for them, each and every one of them.

I'd made it to the circle of the kaiila wagons when I had to step in close to the one that belonged to Crag. A team of bosk ambled up from behind and I had to scramble to keep from getting trampled on. The driver drew them up to a stop then leaned down from the seat to look me over. He spit, eyed me again then asked, 'Ewe tha nuu taymer?' I was wiping my hand across my forehead trying to decipher that, then it dawned on me .. well yes I guess I am. 'Ar ya, ar arn ya?' I was laughing as I gave him a more definitive answer, Yes. 'Wall, whar diya wannit?'

The wagon! He meant the wagon .. damn ... where was Cana? Where was it supposed to be put. Duran, his mate and all their little fur urts had come out by now. Lux and Mobie had wandered up as well. Truth was there was a whole crowd gathering .. all of them looking at me expectantly to make a decision. 'There! Put it there between Duran and Ebet'. I heard myself talking but in my head I was yelling at the man that I had noooo idea just put it somewhere you think that Cana would approve of. That seemed to be all everyone was waiting to hear. It was rolled in pretty as you please and soon disappeared beneath a swarm of men and slaves. Ever watch an ant colony with a crust of bread? Everything was happening far too fast for me to feel lost ... at least completely.

Before the wheels had a chance to be chocked, a tall long legged bombshell strolled in saying that Tarra had sent her over. With so much going on, I didn't take time to look at what I had been offered but I ran up the steps to tuck it safely inside then sent the girl back. I didn't want to keep her away from the expectant mother any longer than I had to. She was needed .. there, not here. Next came tilde with another girl in tow. Their arms laden with baskets sent by Aiyana. Each of the containers given a quick once over then motioned on up the stairs to be placed inside. Somewhere along the way, Vreeland strode up and pulled me off to the side. I felt the press of something to my hand and the gruff sound of his voice held an unusual tone to it, soft, low, filled with concern. 'For your protection'. He was already stalking off to talk to Ebet before I thought to glance down at a small bone handled quiva I now held. Without a word, I tucked in my boot.

By the time everyone began to disperse for the comfort of their own little slice of heaven, I was grateful for the quiet. It would take a while before personal possessive pronouns didn't feel so strange but for now I looked at my new home. It wasn't 'new' new but then I felt a sort of appreciation that it wasn't. I walked around it, touching the sides, the platform, the cover as if the ends of my fingers might at any moment pass through and it would all be gone. I grasped the rail tight enough to feel the grain of the wood again and again as I ascended the stairs and dipped beneath the flap. A glow of the brazier was what welcomed me in my first real glimpse inside. The girls had lit a fire and arranged the furs for me but I knew I was too ... wired to be able to sleep just yet.

I just sank down in the middle of the floor huddling the baskets up close around me like a small fortress. Realizing I was hungry I plucked out a juicy strand of jerky from one to chew on while I rummaged through all the goodies. I had almost forgotten the gift Tarra had sent but now I studied the talisman and the craftsmanship of it. The white fur wrapper rested on my knee as I held the mandala up to the fire so I could see the intricate design. Kaiila and grass came to life in finely painted strokes on a larl's tooth. The bits of soft herlit down brushed under the weight of my fingertip before I set the little blue beads to motion. It was just instinctive to curl it up against the bottom of my nose ring and inhale the musky aroma of the sage and smoke. It was powerful. She was protecting me. There was a fleeting thought that maybe she might have been protecting something from what lay within me. Either way I felt the touch of her hand as if it were on my shoulder, reassuring, strengthening and in her own way calming.

I was reluctant to put it down to begin exploring through the baskets. There were several cuts of meat, both cured and salted in the largest one. Spices, thread, needles, things I call littles in one of the other baskets. 'Littles' described all of the little things women need that men never think of .. soap, combs, hairties ... you know ... littles! I licked my thumb and crouched forward, finally putting the omen back on the piece of fur so I could pull a blanket out. Aiyana's talents never cease to amaze me. The purple and blue border to me looked like the distance I had traveled from my old world to this one. Each corner beneath it had spread wing herlits as staunch protectors of the four directions. All of them interconnected with lanterns of light and white bosk horns that formed black diamonds when they touched. It was the medalion in the middle that drew me, three kaiila claws circled their way around the center.

The blanket found its way crooked under my arm not willing to put it down either so I could delve a little deeper in the basket. I was almost head first upside down in there when I lost my breath. I sat back with my little prize feeling like I was about to cry. The softness of the leather was nothing compared to the exquiste detailing of beads on the new dress. It was beautiful, simply beautiful. It felt too intricate for me to wear. I folded it back up with loving care and crept to the furs dragging my favorite three of the treasures with me. I didn't know how to explain to Fonce, Tarra, Aiyana, and all of those who had given how much these gifts meant to me.

Once again I was at the furtherest point of the outer wagons making my way inward. I had expected all of this to stand the entire Tribe on its ear in such a way that Turia would tremble beneath the roar. Instead I felt as if the combined voices of family, of friends, the bond of the Tuchuk as a whole could have shaken the foundations and rent their temples in two.

I had family, a very warm and loving one ... my people.

My treasures were stacked on the empty spot of my fur. They lay where I could see them, reach out to touch them again and again then I held the braid of my hair clasped tight like a life rope and drew my old thread bare saddle blanket up over me.

Things

I am Leonette.

The introduction had an odd feel to it, meeting him as if it were the first time .. it was. Regardless of all that had transpired before this moment, we were facing each other as wholly new creatures. I reveled in the feel and felt the brittleness of ... first encounters as well. It felt as if I were holding something delicately fragile in my hands .. unseen though knowing it was precious, worth anything and everything that it took to hold it tight so that it could not slip away and fearing that tightening my grasp would crumble it between my fingers. Fonce ... it means torn, it means darkness. I tasted his name and all of the flavor of its meanings then let it spill off my lips. Fonce ... Inside I was screaming ... please do not pull away ... stay with me ... here. Even as I did, I felt my grasp loosening even in the primalality so that I didn't destroy the pale etchings before they could even form. I opened the flap wider letting in a bit of light. When he had time, I had things to ask .. not of what had just happened but ... well ... I held up my hand as if he could see the invisible forces that cradled in my palm ... things ... destinies, fates, dreams. Was I already curling my hand too tight in the poignancy of the moment? I added quickly far safer subjects as some protective barrier around the things that go bump in the night, a gentle force field surrounding the outside ... clans, thoughts.

Things.

There were things to do, things to get from the slave wagon, things to see to, things to begin and things to turn loose of. Did I appear to him as some high spirited little filly as I pranced away, eager to begin all of the "things" that this new journey would lay at my feet? If so then it is the image that I wanted to linger in his mind as I turned to go.

He had been my faith, my trust, my security and my sanity as well as at times my insanity since I came here. He was my safety net walking a tightrope stretched across a universe. My belief in him had brought me to this point and now neither of us were in control. I had just placed my heart, my soul, my complete faith in the hands of something bigger than both of us.The skies themselves would form the future. They would either lay the path to the rest of cosmos at our feet or it was going to be one hell of a cruel sadistic synaptic copulation.

The wagon sides blurred in a mist as I walked away, my feet and knees becoming the same sludge that swirled in my head. When I felt the tidal wave overtake me, I clung to one of them, hands rising to the skies themselves though only reaching the wooden surface of the frame and I turned my face into the cold hard surface, silencing the shriek against the tem finish. I heard the splintering, the scraping claw of nails rending and shattering and felt the jagged lines of shredding as I let it go, let it all go.

Synaptic Copulation

.. with eyes wide open

Drawing me to him, cradling his hands along my face, the dip of his thumbs catching beneath my eyes so that they were peeled back, splayed open, lifted up, looking at him. The invisible bridle melted away with the touch of his mouth, the nibble of his teeth biting at the fasteners of the bit, relighting and igniting all of the unrequited passions that were reserved for him alone. Hunger rising in me, thirsts within him pleading silently to be sated, so painful for us both that it clutched at my stomach and spread my ribs taking my breath. Desires from plains far beyond the body or psyche unbound, the wants, needs, longings given freedom to soar. So much trust and faith offered in a single moment, so much raw vulnerability exposed. Would I return to him as I was now? Would he be there when my flight banked and brought me back? I found sanity only in focusing on the slow inhale and even slower exhale against my cheek. The feel of his hair against my temple offering the throb of his own pulse masked the sound of the cylinders when they released and the bit of steel fell to his waiting hand.

I am not most women and he is by no means just any man. I reached out to touch him in the only way I knew that I could reach him. My first words in freedom came in the purest of confession .. I dream of You. What he said blazed my world with so many confused, elated, chaotic emotions I could not keep up with them all. Your dreams have always been powerful. He had seen them. He knew them. I gave up the instantaneous scramble for something illusive there as he began to braid my hair. It wasn't the twining from my own fingertips this time but his that wove them to a tamed sleek coil. I've always loved the feel of his touch in my hair, it had always been a calming .. so peaceful that it felt in ways warmer than an embrace. When we are alone, it is so easy to talk with him. What fails me around others dances like the flutter of a butterfly when it is just the two of us. My want to bring him honor, pride, keeps me held in silence but in moments like this there is nothing that I feel I cannot talk to him about. Here where he is my soul focus without intrusion, without disturbance, where we can meet in whatever realm is ... his at the moment. My mentioning the beast in the solitary pen gave me chance to tell him that Gilgamesh had shown me what happened. Yes, I knew why he had commanded the animal's reprieve. His unquestioning acceptance of what I had told him washed through me, cleansing the taint of doubts and reservations.

It must be far easier to create a slave than to mold and build a freewoman and facts proved that the crafting of a slave must come from something already there in the grain. Details. The details of what was needed came flooding in. Shelter, bosk, necessities, clothing .. wasn't it an Olympian that asked how much does it take to care for one little girl? These were to be his gift ... just that. My basic needs would be met though the rest would bear on my shoulders. I would have to carve my right to be here just as everyone else does, to learn the clan, to show that I could contribute to the Tribe, to earn my place ... here.

The firm guidance of his hand along my arm radiated warmth and a sense of security so tangible that as he found the storage wagon he was looking for and released me, the savor would remain long after. He knew the delicate feminine curves of my body but this transformation that was taking place now added an acute sense of modesty. I was definitely not dressed for a formal. He felt pliable in my hands as I moved him from within the wagon back out to the platform so that I could dress. It was a mingling of both amusement and discomfort for both of us. There would be times I would need to come to him for guidance, to rant and to rave in the newfoundness of all of this and I offered an open flap for him to be able to do the same. I had been watching and noticing as well and wanted to encourage this ability that was forming in him to be part of what was around him rather than attend from the distances he felt more comfortable in.

Did we both blink with realization in the aftermath? It seemed so as he looked at the woman standing before him and had to ask ...

What do I call you?

Once upon a collar

There was purpose in my strides as I wound my way through the harigga. I needed to speak with Fonce. These things he needed to hear from me and not someone else. I sought his advice as well.

I could think of no other collar besides his that I could feel such an honor in wearing, but I could not lie. I could not change how I felt nor the honesty that I had offered with my own words. I couldn't fold the two halves into one no matter how much I wished I could. I was slave to one and only one and regardless of whether he ever allowed me close again ... I lived with the decision I had made. Their hesitation had come from knowing and seeing those truths, knowing that I would never be able to give fully all that was within me to anyone but else. I had meant no disrespect but I was prepared for whatever he doled out for the insult that could have been taken by the other.

He was so very different as he spoke with me. The openness of our discussion allowed me to reveal the depth of many feelings, brief, precise and concise. One would have thought I had grown accustomed to his questions but the without the intensity behind them, I found myself caught off guard. Was this why I had been avoiding people? I honestly hadn't thought I had. I gave as much of myself as I could into the service he had sent me. Responsibilities at the pens and around the Kaiila Mistress wagons had kept me preoccupied, it was true but no I hadn't consciously avoided ... anyone. When he spoke of having been watching me, it was no surprise. I'd felt it even from the distance. Sometimes it unnerved me but I had grown used to it. I had accepted that it was in some small way .. a connection, at least for me.

Do you remember when I freed you? I wanted to tell him that I relived those moments over and over. My fingers rose to touch the ring I bore now trying to find enough voice to answer ... I remember well. It was a time I made a choice, one that I still don't regret. How could he tell me it was not all just a mind fuck like we were talking about the weather? Well, I do and I don't know that. I know he doesn't do anything without reason but not knowing what those are, leaves room for a whole lot of wondering. Without communication, without the give and take of discussion, there is sometimes far too much left unsaid. Whatever he was about to say next, he wound up sounding a lot like I do with the crash of statement and question into one another but the bottom line was point blank. Did I want to be free?

How could I be anything but open and honest with him? I wanted to be his with whatever that meant to go along with it .. that 'all encompassing' that I had once been so welcoming to before I began to understand what that meant. It was a bit redundant to tell me he did not handle being hurt well or that he didn't allow people to get close afterward very easily. I don't handle being hurt well either but what I confessed was that I did not have a desire or wish to be touched by any other. Was it because I know how jealous he could be or was it me .. who I was? He could have beaten me all he wished if it were so simple as his jealousy, perhaps if I was a different woman I might toy with that but the fact was if I did not have the feelings for him that I do I would not tolerate even his touch .. like it or not. All of the next part of the conversation spilled in on itself as my thoughts tripped on that one sentence ... I should not be in a collar. He couldn't take me as his own right now, there was too much to be worked out between us. If I cared enough to work at them, it would show but for now ... if I was free in my mind and in my heart then I needed to be freed from the collar. It wasn't something he offered to just anyone. So much of what he was saying went without thought as pure truths but to hear them .. spoken aloud ... embedded them, filled vacuums that had rung hollow before this.

I did remember those first days, I remembered how he spoke of not being able to trust or be close to a woman that wasn't bound to him. A woman that he would take as his own had three requirements, she would be Tuchuk, she would come from a good family and she would be pristine virginal. All of those words hit home now as he spoke. How dare he offer hope? He was a Tuchuk male, he could and would do as he wished. The ache that was overtaking me left a numbness that threatened to lash out in the form of tears. I cared for him as I have cared for no other but he had asked me to be myself and I had clung to that even now as it felt as if a chasm was opening up that may never be breached. The want and desire of something greater than myself even if meant the loss of even my own wants and desires. I swallowed it all hard to be able to continue. I'd depended on his generosity and the generosity of others for my keep. It took everything I had to hold to my objectivity when he spoke of his own caring, if he didn't he would not be so angry. I knew, I felt it. Oh skies ... I felt it.

As he spoke of sending me back to Cana, the words "as a prospect" shook me to the core. Had he once, just once, seen slave-like behavior of me with others he could not do what he was doing. I knew it was a reference to sexuality and not my service, without his reminder. In this, those few words, he offered a bit of salve letting me know that I had served him honorably. I understood the line he walked on now although I would not be able to see it in its full scope until much later. For now my mind was reeling far too intensely, throbbing, swirling imploding in on itself. All I could manage was a rasped whisper that I had tried, I had tried to bring him honor, tried to give to the Tribe all that I could and I had tried to feel as the other slaves did ... and had failed. All of the outpouring silenced with the touch of his finger against my lips.

Let it go.

You can't touch me

... here


While I lay in the wagon looking up through the flap at the night sky, the beauty of the multitudes of heavenly bodies, I didn't truly see them. There could have been so many interpretations of what the Haruspex had said, there could have been many interpreatations of what Cana had spoken to me about but I was looking further than they could see, to places they didn't understand existed.
Each inward fold and outward extension, I could feel the drying of the soft feathery down, the air moving and forming in a gentle breeze carrying whispers that would magnify, expand in volume with time and distance.
I spoke to the one that held me captive, feeling the pain begin to dull to less than an ache, to less than the throbbing of my pulse, to a peacefulness that matched the soothing breeze let in through the crevices.

I know what I want. I know what I'm doing. You can't touch me ...
here

.

Sometimes love ...

Once, there was a young girl, that found a chrysalis, from which a butterfly was trying to emerge. The struggle that it was having, hurt her, and she sought to help it. So, she takes a quiva, and very, very carefully cuts the shell of the chrysalis away from the butterfly, thinking that it would spread its wings and take flight, but this did not happen. All it did was struggle on the ground, like a worm of some sort, unable to fly.
You see, all things in life have a purpose, even the struggle of the butterfly. It is that struggle that makes its wings strong enough to fly. Without that struggle, and that toil, they never have that strength.

jacta alea est

The die is cast ~ Julius Caesar (when he crossed the river Rubicon, the boundary between ancient Italy and the province of Cisalpine Gaul, he passed beyond the limits of his province of Cisalpine Gaul and became an invader in Italy, thus starting a war with Pompey and the Senate of Rome.)


I tried delving harder into being amidst the kaiila. Maybe it would burn away this eerie emotional state. I wanted to prove to Cana that I could be there for her, that she could depend on me while she was gone. Dumbass was behaving for a change and Bluesky soaked up tlc like a sponge. Vreeland had insisted that I take a new set of tack to the Mistress before she left. His urgency spoke of how much he cared even if it was sometimes in that brusk of his. I made sure the bundle was safely delivered to the steps of her wagon before I sought her at the fires. More new faces graced the flickering of warmth around the inner circle. I perked instantly hearing that one of them was a newcomer to the kaiila clan. Tuchuk are often an equal opportunity employer. Many times women work side by side with the men .. give a day's worth of work in blood, sweat and tears for a day's worth of being Tuchuk. The wages are the same for everyone ... living and living well.

The other woman, I learned was of the Ubar's clan, Tarra's clan, a seer. The rattle of the runes clicked over and over as she tossed them for whoever wished to see. Raven's fit to a T. Mayala's was deep and mysterious, much the same way the woman herself is.

I'm not afraid of massive hairy critters with snapping, snarling jaws or those with taloned claws that leave my face in the dirt, well, not much, alright I am but I don't back down from them, but I was oddly leary of the bones. It could have been that I didn't want anyone else to see or maybe just that I didn't want to face what they would say. The tension built until you could feel it crackle in the air as she studied them only to have to gather them in her hand only to roll them again. Clear your mind. I almost jumped out of my kalmak when Cana placed a tender touch on my shoulder, touching those scars. Kiryava began, slow, resonant as she spoke of the divining she saw. I listened as the fine hairs on the back of my nape stood to full attention. I felt the words crawling beneath my skin, etching into slithery places where light didn't dare shine. The synapses of my brain sparking to life, sputtering then giving in to a veiled mist of logic. It could all have meant a million things, taken a hundred ways, vague enough to be ne of those curls from the middle of a fortune cookie. Mistakes that brought wealth, not of a material nature. A malevolent force had left my life and with that departure I had found the right people, the right situation ... I was seeing the light.

I tried interupting with that manipulative trick my father had taught me .. nod and give the answer you want with a question mark on the end. People tend to be lazy minded and seek the easy route ... they agree rather than formulate their own thought to disagree. I laughed to cover how intensely the woman had affected me. and the dreams? They are just dreams right?

You are pretending to be someone you are not, you are hindering yourself and that is coming through in your dreams as fear. They are just dreams.

I didn't want to hear any more. Someone from my past was coming, be myself and do not fear.

See just dreams. Ha!

I thanked her for looking at the runes for me. Yep I was done, through, finished and more than ready to scramble out of there, tuck tail, head for cover. She wasn't through even though she had put the pieces away. If you continue to hide, to deny yourself and refuse to be fully you, there will be trouble. I felt the taloned claws rake all the way through my shoulder as she touched my chin and lifted my eyes to hers.

Free Yourself.

Cana knew it had upset me and offered comfort later after everyone had gone. She gave me choice to answer if I wished, a rare and treasured gift coming from her. It was hard to delve deep enough to offer her those underlying thoughts and emotions. We spoke of relationships ... I tried to be forthcoming but no I did not reveal what had disturbed me so, I couldn't, not even with this woman. She knew I struggled with perhaps more than anyone with things no one knows. It was all there but no one took time to notice. Is it the way with all men? It was as hard for her to answer in some ways as it was for me to ask. Some confuse love with lust and other things. I heard my own voice add

... with pain.

I could not help the wash that began to trickle down my cheeks when she told me that she felt true love did not come with pain. I wanted to tell her that sometimes it does. We may not want it, we may not need it but it is there, it is real and it hurts. Instead, I thought that I chose a safer topic by returning to the words of the seer, that she had been right, I was not being all I could be. I did try. I tried hard, I did but I didn't feel what the others do. She knew this was not what I had dreamed of as a small child but someone or something had stepped in to change it all, for good or for bad it was how my path had led me to this point in time.

Don't you think in some ways, that could be said of all of us, that we each have not yet reached our full potential?

Then she told me a story.