Work was a release of sorts, then sometimes it gave you too much time to think, and this was one of those times. As she groomed kaiila, thoughts wandered over the recent events, and to the people that made up her tribe and family. Everyone has a personality that is as unique to them, as the whorls that lay on the tips of their fingers. Not all personalities were going to mesh in a nice, comfortable fashion, and maybe that was what was bothering her. She had this deep seated need for everyone to be happy, and at times it caused her great pain and confusion.
There were things of importance to her. The bosk, the grasses, the waters in the streams, the winds that blew across the plains, the stars, the moons, the warmth of the Central fire. To her, those were gifts given to them all. There are others things, that are important, that you just cannot always reach out and grasp. Some were a bit more stable than others, like her tribe, the satisfaction of her work, the love for her tribe, her people and her family. All were of the utmost importance to her. Then there were others that you could not put a grasp upon, but that had a place in her world. The friendship of others and respect being among those. When one of these things was lacking, or out of place, her world seemed to spin into a dervish of confusion.
The past few nights there had been so many faces around the fires, some old, some new, some very, very old. Did they mesh? Not always, but that was the way with people. The one thing that saddened her, was the disrespect some of the newer ones, had for those that had earned their places at the fires long ago. As she brushed the coat of a beast, she smiled at herself, thinking of Only. He had been taken away when he was young, had been raised among dwellers, and how now returned. Regardless of where or how he had been raised, you could see the respect in him for others. He was much like his father, strong, affable and with a laugh that rang in the skies. And she had been impressed at his control with the events of the other evening.
It had been a simple request, one that anyone else would have done without thinking, and with pride in the importance of their duties. All Jai had done, was ask the yearkeeper to explain his clan and their role in the tribe to Only. It should not have surprised her, but in a way it did. The young warrior bulled up, and with his usual arrogance refused, and showed his disrespect for one of the first fires. It was sad, very sad. She had taken another's words to heart, that the young man was simply young and irresponsible, but where did that end? When did the time come for us to make others responsible for their words and actions?
That brief flash of anger had flowed through the eyes of the metal worker, but he showed great honor and respect for the others there, by not acting upon that anger. In a fairly gracious way, he excused the young man's disrespect to the paga that he had been drinking, and returned to his seat at the fires, dismissing the incident as done.
The evening had continued with much teasing and laughter, which had served to ease the tension. There were many new faces around the fires, that she found most pleasant. As she slapped the kaiila she was working on, to send it on its' way, she moved to Hakan, speaking softly to him, as she began to work on his claws.
Thoughts wandered to the other new faces at the fires. She had only seen the man Seth a couple of times, but he seemed to be a pleasant sort. There was a new leather worker that she found very pleasant. In fact, they had traded baked goods, and she was determined to get the recipe for the fruit and nut rolls that Jaella had made. They were well worth the bags of honeyed nuts she had traded for them. Rook had taken some harnesses to her for repair, and had brought back an example of the woman's work. It was excellent, and she was already thinking of how to make a trade for more just like it.
Then there was Polunu and his new charge, the potter. Zarina was lovely, and the cup that she had made for Tug was truly a work of art. She loved how the lid fit so snugly. To be able to do that, took true talent, and the young woman certainly had it. She also had something else. There were indications that she had the salt man's eye. Thinking on this made her laugh, causing Hakan to turn his head, casting a baleful look at her. Oh Hush!
Slapping Hakan on the ass, she sent him on his way, gathered up her tools and began the trek to the clan wagons to put things away. As she walked, she thought on others, like Arigh, who she still needed to find time to speak to, it seems there was some air that needed to be cleared there. Then there was Sakmeta. Sakmeta of the pink wagon, Sakmeta of the soon to be pink boots. Chuckling softly, she cleaned and put her curry combs away. The beadmaker was a confusing mixture of woman and child, but there was still hope for her. She marched to her own drummer, all they could hope was that she did not get tangled up in her new pink boots.
Yes, they are a varied group of people. Sometimes clashing, sometimes teasing and funny, at others, splitting in to so many directions it was hard to follow them all. But they all had one thing in common, they were her people, her family, that was undeniable.
No comments:
Post a Comment