Inside the Outside

Why do you hasten to remove anything which hurts your eye, while if something affects your soul you postpone the cure until next year? ~Horace

After leaving the pens, I was ready to be a bit more or rather .. less sensitive in interacting with people. No sooner than I let the abrasive outer surface down then I began to realize that a lot of things that I'd perceived were misconceptions. Some of the sleen calls hadn't been sleen calls but actually been nice comments on my work habits and my poise. All of those women that hated me so bad was more like one old one and she wasn't spitting at me, she liked nibbling little flower seeds but she doesn't chew the hulls. Well, hadn't I just been little Miss Understanding.

Anyway, I had a few ehn to talk with Jaella and afterwards it felt as if it was far too brief. We swapped those talhowareyou and howislifeatthismoment. I admit I was a little cautious at first, testing the water a bit. We ended up doing those layered conversations that Falon and I do, carrying on two or more at the same time. It was intriguing to find someone else that did that, of course it wasn't as polished but I wouldn't mind a little more practice with her. Being newly mated looks good on her. I kept telling everyone if they had been paying attention they would have seen how they were together. They ... I could a million different descriptive's in here but there is only one needed .. They fit.

I got to gush about the unique kaiila, Patch and that possessive enthusiasm I'd seen and now wanted. She shared a hint at what it had been like growing up here in the harigga. I knew that big boulder the children play near along the edge of the camp and it was nice to know someone else did too. I can only see the past through the eyes of those who tell me of it. I live in all of their moments. I think what caught my curiosity most was I saw a mirror in her eyes of something that I would have missed completely if I hadn't been trying to see more than just the outside. I saw her trying to see on the inside too.

She asked if anyone had seen all the falling stars the other night and that caught my attention. I told her, I'd only seen the top of my wagon and the little lizard that keeps me company. The rest was still a bit too raw to offer more than that. Falling stars? Now that set the fine hairs on my arm to attention.

Most everyone faded off to their wagons by the time my late eve buddy made it to the fires. I had the chance to tell him what Cana had said about a chaperone and I had an idea of what I wanted in trade for helping with his kaiila. He could help me paint my wagon. It seemed fair. It was both something we would have done for the other anyway. I am probably anal retentive about that whole process of the wagon but see, it was a gift from Fonce so what goes on it and in it ... I want it to have as much meaning as his giving it to me. Once I explained the idea I had, he said it sounded pretty interesting.

The men of the Tribe work hard and fatigue goes through the harigga in waves sometimes. It made him unusually quiet even for him so I wound up doing most of the talking ... about Patch, about the new beast ... about what Cana had shown me ... that I had a future here. I was still rattling on and on when I got up to get some water. Never gave it a second thought to bring back a bota with me. In the fall of an eyelash, I became a pale doe caught in the fire light. The tether was drawn from my hair, the spiraled ringlets toyed loose until they cascaded over my shoulders. The vest I wore slid from my shoulders baring the flesh beneath. It was all in his eyes as I stood there. Like old times?

I wouldn't settle back on my fur again but stood there with my gaze boring down on him. I asked a question and I wanted him to be honest .. I meant really honest. There was no mistaking that he still saw me as I had been. It was written all over his face, in the depth of his eyes. It took all that I had to be able to speak through the barrier of everything I felt at that moment. What I wanted to know was, would a warrior see me as a Mother?

Yes, a warrior could, but it would take time to get the thought of me clad kajir, kneeling at their feet with a bota lifted in my hands from their thoughts. I had asked for honesty and that was what I was given. I felt the crash of a million different thoughts jamb together in one massive pile up. For a moment all I could do was open and close my mouth a few times but not a single word trusted itself to become vocal until I managed to say thank you for being truthful. I barely heard him say that he did think I would be a good mother and murmured something of the same nature in return of being a father.