When feet touch ground

'To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.'

- Emily Dickinson

I was soaking in the stories, ones of dweller women, osts, the dominance of men and the place of women in their world. They were delicious entrees that included histories of the people here, different clans, even heritages that came together under one roof ... the skies of the plains themselves. I surprised me to learn that not all that stood proud and call themselves Tuchuk were all of pure Tuchuk blood. I was surprised to at patterns that seemed to be developing among some of the elders of the Tribe. There were many who spoke of having to leave the plains when they were young, each story unique but each sharing some sinister plot behind the flight beyond the equatorial lines. It piqued the historian within me to want to know more, to investigate the whos and whys and hows.
For a few ehn I was allowed to serve the Haruspex Mistress, to see to her needs. Her welfare and the welfare of this child is somehow dear to me. It is not anything that I can explain, just a need to watch over them. That instinct was what began the conversation with Cana as others left to return to the comfort and warmth of their wagons. I asked for a recipe for meatpies. I had to smile as she questioned who they were for. Yes, it was as she thought, though perhaps not for the reasoning. It was not one but two recipes she gave me. The second for honeyed cakes. We teased each other that if my cooking was not yet palatable that Gilgamesh could have the treats. It might sweeten his disposition.
This woman was my confidant, my mentor, the one person I could open up and expose the squishy insides without fear of being chided for it. I could not in good faith withhold my encounter with the ignoble creature. Rather than scathed me for having ventured where I had not belonged she wanted to know of the name I'd given him ... why Gilgamesh? I offered what explanation I could of what I had felt and what I saw and the reasoning for the juxtaposition. I never again wish to see the look on her face that I saw as she visualized it all. But it opened a doorway to be able to talk of more. The candor lifted our conversation to a pristine place, untouchable by anything dark or dread. You cannot always make things better bell. Believing you have all the answers is simply pain. She walked with me through my troubled thoughts, offering wisdoms, truths even if it hurt and offering encouragements. Let the heart come around on its own terms.
We spoke of the clans. I wanted to know more, my hunger for knowing was growing insatiable. Among the kaiila clan all are a vital part. There are those who do menial labor, there are those that have been enfolded into the clan through their lineage, there are those that have what I'd heard mentioned the past hand or so .. those that have a gift. To feel the creatures is to have a relationship to and with them. You should hear the passion in her voice when she speaks of the beasts. They draw breath in her own.
She said something of all of the clans that made me sit up straighter, listen more intently and ponder the depth to her words. Each of our clans come together as a whole, not one, not another but all. It is what makes our Tribe strong. We all have our talents and if we are lucky we are allowed to follow them, to use them for the betterment of all. These words would remain with me as long as I drew breath. I knew there would be times that I would grasp them as my salve and my salvation.
She spoke of the Year Keeper and I was saddened for a few moments realizing that I would not be able to talk with him and hear his stories. She said there was a lesson there, and of course my damnable curiosity would delve head first into what it was. Do not anger the skies. That was the opening I needed to ask about this great expanse of unknown that everyone spoke of. Tell me of them, please ... and she did. She offered an insight into the ways the Tuchuk felt of the heavens above them .. They believed .. in something greater than they were. The skies gave us the bosk and charged us with their keeping. It was a relationship that benefited both. We ourselves came from the skies and at our times end we return to add to the strength those that are left behind need. Her words touched a place that I could understand and correlate to. Far more than antiexistential diadems were falling into place.
Expanding our realm of philosophy, I pressed to understand her feelings of fate and destiny. Wily little Tuchuk wench laid it right back in my lap all tied up with a satin ribbon. Things happen for a reason.. didn't I believe that? Was my being here ... now a mere coincidence. I had to admit that it had to be a multitude of those crusty creatures if it was. But she asked me to think on something .. What would have happened to Me Too if I had not brought his plight to the attention of the Tribe .. where would he be now? I retorted in a dry tone that was simply taking care of those around you. Doing what is right. She brought her point home when she nodded and told me that was part of it ... See, we are not just caretakers of the bosk but also of those around us. That is .. she answered ... compassion.
I walked away with a wealth of understanding. I looked out through the Harigga seeing the passionate hearts and souls of a rare race and I felt a swell of pride to be some part of them.