The bulk of her day had been spent in a wagon trying to entertain six children who were not taking being cooped up due to the rains very well. She had told stories, played guessing games with them, played her flute, everything she could think of to keep them appeased. When they finally settled down for the night, she stepped out of the wagon looking forward to some adult conversation and maybe a nice hot cup of blackwine.
She found these at the main fires, and had started to relax and release the tensions from the day. Asria was there bearing a gift of tea that she said helped you to sleep. Was it beginning to show? The fact that in the past few nights sleep had eluded her? If so, she needed to be more careful, smile more, divert people's attentions to other things. She accepted the tea graciously, and was actually thankful for it. She found herself liking the young year keeper more and more, feeling a kinship with her probably as the results of them having shared some experiences that were quite similar.
At first it was just the women there, and talk was of usual female things. It seems that Yamka is being plagued by thoughts of love and mating. That is pretty normal for an unmated woman, they all had those concerns at one time or another. She asked about love, how you knew. Now exactly how do you explain that. Sometimes it comes like a bolt of lightening in a spring storm, at others it is something that grows slowly between two people over time. A friendship that blossoms into something more.
Talk on this subject more or less ceased when the men began to arrive, the first being her mate. As usual, the first thing she did was ask if he was hungry, then proceeded to get his meal from the cooking fires. It was just something that she did. As she walked away, she felt his eyes on her backside then heard the words of him thinking she had a nice ass. Shaking her head she moved to get the meal, wondering if all men proclaimed to everyone that their mate had a nice ass. It was not exactly something she wanted to be known for, but evidently that is what he saw in her, a nice ass.
She had seen his new slave cowering under a wagon, wrapped up in a fur, not making a move to serve, but that was fine. One thing about Tuchuk women, they were independent and more than capable of taking care of their own needs. One thing that Asria did say, caused her to smile. She said that the slave did not have to like serving them, but soon she would need to learn to placate them, if she wanted to live. Good advice.
Ba'atar fed the meal that she had prepared for him to his slave, which meant she had to get him another, which she did. He questioned the slave on whether or not she had eaten. No. Then as to what she had learned today. Well, not much, since she had stayed under the wagon just watching. Figures. There was a duplicity in the slave that bothered her, but maybe she was the only one that saw it, so nothing would be said of it. But, she would keep an eye on her. It was decided that her girl juneau would take the girl in hand and try to teach her what was expected of her. Switch and all.
When Fonce arrived for a short time, talk turnead to boots, the familiarity of a favored pair of boots. Yamka seemed to think there was a hole in his boot, but he assured her that there wasn't, and that he knew his boots as well as he did his own hand. She had laughed, because she knew how he felt about those boots. There was just something about an old, worn pair of boots that made them like old friends. She rather liked what Fonce said about a new pair he tried once. He had worn them, and no longer felt connected to the plains as he had in that old worn pair that he had. She knew exactly how he felt. She has a new pair in her wagon that Ba'atar had StormHawk make right before the move north. She had worn them a couple of times, but just did not feel right in them, so she had switched back to her old patched ones.
Now, Yamka did say that she would make him a new pair, for when those finally did wear out. Good luck, leather worker. Cana had teased and told her to go right a head and make them, and she could polish them with her gray hair, because she would be an old, gray haired woman before he would give up those boots. Perhaps it was the subject matter, but maybe it was just the fact that he was soaked to the skin, and chilled, but he did not stay long, which is how he is on some nights.
Seveya joined them, and she tried to make sure the young artist knew that if she needed anything, all she had to do was ask. It was a hard time for her, many changes and she felt it was her duty to make sure that it went as smoothly as it could under the circumstances.
People drifted in and out around the fires. Yamka and Asria going to find their furs early. She was more than happy to see Jai, Kaeli and Teng arrive. Jai always has this way of lightening her heart, making her to smile and laugh. He and Kaeli just seemed to be such a perfect fit, and so happy. It was just good to see them.
And just as the previous evening, once the slave was there, she had somehow faded into the background. And as others began to arrive, it seemed to get worse. Ba'atar never gave her another thought, another word or even acknowledge she was there, much less that she was his mate. His attention was on the slave, on fondling her, taking pride in how she served.
Was she jealous? Of a slave? Not hardly. She would not exchange places with the girl for one ihn. What she felt was disappointment, and anger. Not in the slave, but in Ba'atar. She was the one he was supposed to love and respect over all others. Not so. She has seen many men with slaves, seen how they interact with them and their mates, but she has never seen anything quite like this.
And the solution to this? Remove yourself from the situation, take a walk, leave and that is what she did. Smiling, she bid everyone good night and went for a walk along the stream.
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