Who: Jacta and Tabrika
When: Anesus 1, shortly after midnight
Where: The gates to the compound
The full face of Anesiel cast a turquoise light upon the proceedings just outside the Compound gate as if to further emphasize the unnatural circumstances below; humans, Lykos and Vrykolas gathered together in wait for half past midnight. For the gate to open, for most of them to put their lives on hold for six years.
When: Anesus 1, shortly after midnight
Where: The gates to the compound
The full face of Anesiel cast a turquoise light upon the proceedings just outside the Compound gate as if to further emphasize the unnatural circumstances below; humans, Lykos and Vrykolas gathered together in wait for half past midnight. For the gate to open, for most of them to put their lives on hold for six years.
Or to try to put their lives on hold. Jacta was certain that some things wouldn't wait. She had been sitting on her pack beside her lover cum Partner and her father, a carefully tended fire holding bay between them and the twenty or so lottery 'winners' and their many 'retainers'. The fire hadn't initially been set to warn anyone else away; it had been cold today, so when the trio had arrived outside the gates just past sundown and found them to be locked, it had been the first thing they'd laid before settling in for the wait. As more Compound 'inmates' arrived, Jacta had felt less like meeting her new peers, especially when they arrived from the North West or the East, instead of South or South West as she had come.
Lykos. Vrykolas. She understood, cerebrally, what the Compound and the committee in charge of its maintenance was trying to do. But with only a few licking flames between her and potentially deadly people (she refused to allow herself to think of them as monsters), Jacta felt that disaster was compelled to erupt before even tonight was out.
When more humans had arrived, Jacta (or rather, her father) deemed to welcome them into the circle. If any Lykos or Vrykolas wanted to mingle, they hadn't made a show of it yet... and though they weren't made to feel unwelcome, nobody had made any moves to include a non-human to the fire-side.
Jacta shivered, listening to the sniping that was occasionally exchanged away from the fire. An Anesiel-tribe Lykos sounded off its frustration as it was pegged in place between its packmates or elders or whatever they were, causing the hair to raise on the back of the young woman's neck. She settled a protective hand over her stomach -- still flat, for now -- not conscious of the gesture. Six years looming over her shoulder, and some things didn't wait.
Lykos. Vrykolas. She understood, cerebrally, what the Compound and the committee in charge of its maintenance was trying to do. But with only a few licking flames between her and potentially deadly people (she refused to allow herself to think of them as monsters), Jacta felt that disaster was compelled to erupt before even tonight was out.
When more humans had arrived, Jacta (or rather, her father) deemed to welcome them into the circle. If any Lykos or Vrykolas wanted to mingle, they hadn't made a show of it yet... and though they weren't made to feel unwelcome, nobody had made any moves to include a non-human to the fire-side.
Jacta shivered, listening to the sniping that was occasionally exchanged away from the fire. An Anesiel-tribe Lykos sounded off its frustration as it was pegged in place between its packmates or elders or whatever they were, causing the hair to raise on the back of the young woman's neck. She settled a protective hand over her stomach -- still flat, for now -- not conscious of the gesture. Six years looming over her shoulder, and some things didn't wait.
After a less-than-thorough tongue-lashing from Roldan-- as far as she could tell, he'd been looking forward to chastising both girls, and only having one had disappointed him enough that his lecture was half-hearted, at best-- Tabrika had slunk off, her currently-metaphorical tail between her legs and even more metaphorical ears pinned back. She'd like to have gotten a little revenge on those girls who had ratted her out, but given pretty much everyone in the group could have probably heard her, she didn't have any basis to do so.
So now she was just prowling quietly around the other groups, unwilling to face the glares or snubs from her own kinsfolk after that loss of face. She avoided anything that wasn't breathing, because another fight with a Vrykola wasn't something she wanted to risk so soon. That meant, though, that every little cluster she prowled around the edges of was noisy. Especially with all the talking and things.
When she found a slightly-less-noisy one, though, she lingered a little, tasting scents and trying to figure out which one was which. The one she was half-hiding behind was darkish-- or, well, looked darkish, but given how poorly she saw, it could just be because it was dark out-- and wasn't talking at all. That was a definite relief.
So now she was just prowling quietly around the other groups, unwilling to face the glares or snubs from her own kinsfolk after that loss of face. She avoided anything that wasn't breathing, because another fight with a Vrykola wasn't something she wanted to risk so soon. That meant, though, that every little cluster she prowled around the edges of was noisy. Especially with all the talking and things.
When she found a slightly-less-noisy one, though, she lingered a little, tasting scents and trying to figure out which one was which. The one she was half-hiding behind was darkish-- or, well, looked darkish, but given how poorly she saw, it could just be because it was dark out-- and wasn't talking at all. That was a definite relief.
All three of them -- Jacta, Harbenae and Trenor, at least, were 'darker looking', but that didn't really seem to mean much, save that two of the three of them might smell as though they were related.
Jacta wasn't saying much because there wasn't much to say. The omnipresent feeling of dread and finality that had settled over the small group by the fire was depressing. Misery seemed to like company, however, for nobody made any move to stand or move away from the impromptu camp.
In fact... Jacta tilted her head slightly, hairs raising on the back of her neck. She hadn't meant to cast a magical, perimeter kick-line, but it had become habit over the past thirteen years since her mother had shown her how to ward against trouble on the trail. She felt the slight compacting of feet on loam, as if the dirt had grown temporary senses.
'Nothing to be afraid of,' she reminded herself, pitifully aware that her senses were lacking now. She turned her head and upper body just enough to catch sight of Tabrika, confronting the obviously barbaric young woman not a stones-throw away. Jacta lowered her chin, casting the stranger a stern look even if, with her back to the light, it would probably be difficult to see her expression. "Where I come from," she spoke quietly, so as not to draw attention, "a person generally gives some notice when they're sneaking up behind someone." She half-turned, her oiled canvas pack shifting under her weight. Harbenae leaned in close, half-protective. He didn't know anything more than Jacta did about Lykos-types, but then again, this was Jacta's day. He said nothing, allowed his hopeful Partner to take control of things. As things should be, as far as her culture was concerned!
Soon after her last words, Jacta bowed her head slightly to indicate that she didn't mean to be rude. She didn't realize that Tabrika was the same Lykos that had been arguing in the darkness with another woman, or else she might be a little more defensive! "I'm Jacta Cedo Serosum," she drawled, voice still coming quietly and vowel-heavy, "from the Marin Island Trading Company. Who might you be?"
Jacta wasn't saying much because there wasn't much to say. The omnipresent feeling of dread and finality that had settled over the small group by the fire was depressing. Misery seemed to like company, however, for nobody made any move to stand or move away from the impromptu camp.
In fact... Jacta tilted her head slightly, hairs raising on the back of her neck. She hadn't meant to cast a magical, perimeter kick-line, but it had become habit over the past thirteen years since her mother had shown her how to ward against trouble on the trail. She felt the slight compacting of feet on loam, as if the dirt had grown temporary senses.
'Nothing to be afraid of,' she reminded herself, pitifully aware that her senses were lacking now. She turned her head and upper body just enough to catch sight of Tabrika, confronting the obviously barbaric young woman not a stones-throw away. Jacta lowered her chin, casting the stranger a stern look even if, with her back to the light, it would probably be difficult to see her expression. "Where I come from," she spoke quietly, so as not to draw attention, "a person generally gives some notice when they're sneaking up behind someone." She half-turned, her oiled canvas pack shifting under her weight. Harbenae leaned in close, half-protective. He didn't know anything more than Jacta did about Lykos-types, but then again, this was Jacta's day. He said nothing, allowed his hopeful Partner to take control of things. As things should be, as far as her culture was concerned!
Soon after her last words, Jacta bowed her head slightly to indicate that she didn't mean to be rude. She didn't realize that Tabrika was the same Lykos that had been arguing in the darkness with another woman, or else she might be a little more defensive! "I'm Jacta Cedo Serosum," she drawled, voice still coming quietly and vowel-heavy, "from the Marin Island Trading Company. Who might you be?"
Tabrika bristled immediately at the words-- she couldn't see Jacta's expression at all, but words like that usually meant challenge-- but the tone was all wrong and her body language was relaxed. Or, it seemed relaxed. And her heartbeat hadn't gone up, nothing tensed as if she was going to spring into action. ... actually, she didn't even have the haughty tension the blood-sucker had. And given she wasn't sort-of-kind-of dead-ish, she was much easier to read to a near-blind Lykos, which helped, too.
By the time Jacta introduced herself, Tabrika was wary but no longer actually ready to leap into growls and posturing to put her down. "That's a lot of names," she said, but she did answer in kind. "I'm Tabrika, Rapemi Tribe. No 'trading company' or anything, though."
By the time Jacta introduced herself, Tabrika was wary but no longer actually ready to leap into growls and posturing to put her down. "That's a lot of names," she said, but she did answer in kind. "I'm Tabrika, Rapemi Tribe. No 'trading company' or anything, though."
Jacta repressed a grim sort of grin. It was easier to deal with differing farmsteads because at least the caravan knew what to expect amongst the different city-states. With the Lykos, the young woman was heading into completely alien territory and, for some reason, instead of being on the defensive, something like amusement -- laughter! -- was burbling in the back of her mind. This was...
She just hadn't thought that she'd actually be talking to these people. This was surreal.
Despite her inner thoughts, the young woman gave a liquid shrug, her leather jacket rising and falling on her shoulders. "Well if you want to call it a 'tribe' then I guess the Trading Company's the next closest thing," Jacta explained. "It's good to meet you, Tabrika." She wondered briefly if the fact that the Lykos had connected herself to the moon of war meant anything in particular. She'd heard of the closed-mouthed moon-cultists, but knew nothing about Lykos culture, religion and tribes included.
Speaking of tribes, she indicated the men to her left and right. "Tabrika, this is my father, Trenor, and one of my compatriots, Harbenae." Introductions were important, the human knew... at least when traveling! "They came up with me to see me off. Did you bring any... tribe-mates with you?" The word was unfamiliar, but the idea of forging on with the conversation seemed like a better solution to the xenophobic lurking that had consumed the early evening.
She just hadn't thought that she'd actually be talking to these people. This was surreal.
Despite her inner thoughts, the young woman gave a liquid shrug, her leather jacket rising and falling on her shoulders. "Well if you want to call it a 'tribe' then I guess the Trading Company's the next closest thing," Jacta explained. "It's good to meet you, Tabrika." She wondered briefly if the fact that the Lykos had connected herself to the moon of war meant anything in particular. She'd heard of the closed-mouthed moon-cultists, but knew nothing about Lykos culture, religion and tribes included.
Speaking of tribes, she indicated the men to her left and right. "Tabrika, this is my father, Trenor, and one of my compatriots, Harbenae." Introductions were important, the human knew... at least when traveling! "They came up with me to see me off. Did you bring any... tribe-mates with you?" The word was unfamiliar, but the idea of forging on with the conversation seemed like a better solution to the xenophobic lurking that had consumed the early evening.
Tabrika eased back a bit when the attention of the other too came on her, bobbing her head and trying not to look overwhelmed. She thought she knew what the girl was getting at, though. Family and friends. Pack, in a watered-down sort of way. "No," she said unhappily. "No, I had to leave my pack behind. I mean, there's some of my tribe here, but nobody I really know. Nobody who's--" Who was really important to her. "Not pack."
She didn't think Jacta would understand, though, and thinking about it made her want to shudder and whine and bite something, so she shook her head sharply. "Not important." The only importance. "So a 'trading company' is like a tribe?" Certainly not like a pack, she was sure, but maybe a tribe.
She didn't think Jacta would understand, though, and thinking about it made her want to shudder and whine and bite something, so she shook her head sharply. "Not important." The only importance. "So a 'trading company' is like a tribe?" Certainly not like a pack, she was sure, but maybe a tribe.
Jacta thought that she was beginning to understand, even if the words were exotic. A 'tribe' was an extended family, a 'pack' was like the Partner-husband-wife-Partner connections that humans knew and valued. Closer family, then? Judging by the way that she edged uneasily about before dismissing the topic, Jacta wondered if lacking a 'pack' was as unimportant as Tabrika let on. The young woman knew that if she had been made to come here herself, she'd have been feeling edgy and uncomfortable as well.
Unconsciously, a hand reached out to be caught by the sandy-coloured, fire-lit hand of Harbenae. Fingers squeezed, then let go again. It was a friendly gesture (under the chaperonage of her father!) but it communicated levels deeper. It was a touch that she'd sorely miss in the coming days.
When the Lykos had finished asking her question, Jacta's full attention was focused on her again. "Depending on what your definition of 'tribe' is. We're an extended family that travel between city-states in five different caravans; my father heads the third division. We trade," obviously," between farmsteads and lend a hand wherever we stop to help the locals get back on their feet." After seventeen years, the human population had been pumping out babies and hard work like never it had before, but it was still widely spread. Services like Jacta's were welcomed. "I mean... not everybody -- human, I mean -- lives in a trading company." She paused, trying to see if Tabrika was looking overloaded. "Some live in one place and grow food, on farms." Somehow, she felt a little better for all the explaining. Things were running very smoothly.
Unconsciously, a hand reached out to be caught by the sandy-coloured, fire-lit hand of Harbenae. Fingers squeezed, then let go again. It was a friendly gesture (under the chaperonage of her father!) but it communicated levels deeper. It was a touch that she'd sorely miss in the coming days.
When the Lykos had finished asking her question, Jacta's full attention was focused on her again. "Depending on what your definition of 'tribe' is. We're an extended family that travel between city-states in five different caravans; my father heads the third division. We trade," obviously," between farmsteads and lend a hand wherever we stop to help the locals get back on their feet." After seventeen years, the human population had been pumping out babies and hard work like never it had before, but it was still widely spread. Services like Jacta's were welcomed. "I mean... not everybody -- human, I mean -- lives in a trading company." She paused, trying to see if Tabrika was looking overloaded. "Some live in one place and grow food, on farms." Somehow, she felt a little better for all the explaining. Things were running very smoothly.
Though Tabrika couldn't see very well, she at least caught motion, and a meeting of twin blurs that were probably hands, and she could definitely smell the faint thrum of hormones. It made her think of her pack, and she looked away until Jacta answered her, not wanting to watch. "So it's really not so much like a tribe as... a big pack working together and stuff. We have packs who do that: travel to trade or-- or to spread stories and talk." She wasn't overloaded yet by information, but the background noise was still distracting. How she was going to live in a single building with over a hundred other people, she had no idea.
"What... what are farms like, then?" she added, finally looking back at Jacta and her gaze staying there, this time. Focus on the conversation with the nice person, who wasn't yelling or insulting or anything. Maybe humans were better than Vryoklas.... Though then again, she hadn't gone into this conversation insulting her companion, either.
"What... what are farms like, then?" she added, finally looking back at Jacta and her gaze staying there, this time. Focus on the conversation with the nice person, who wasn't yelling or insulting or anything. Maybe humans were better than Vryoklas.... Though then again, she hadn't gone into this conversation insulting her companion, either.
And Jacta hadn't gone into the conversation expecting the worst; there was a reason that humans were often called upon to intermediate between the two clashing species!
Jacta was silent as she listened, nose wrinkling at the thought of entire troupes of story-tellers... what a waste of time. How did they make a living, or even get food? Oh. Wait. She was forgetting that they weren't human. They probably ate whatever they found, and raw at that. Still, Jacta was trying very hard not to be judgmental tonight, when she was so out of her element. She simply allowed the silence to draw on a little longer as she moved on to Tabrika's question. She could sense that her father wanted to jump in -- he usually did the talking when it came to meeting up with trading partners or heads of farmsteads -- but he was also keeping firmly in control of himself for Jacta's benefit.
The human raised a hand, a half-conscious, sweeping gesture that she used as she tried to illustrate: "Think permanent buildings, with huge fields all around. There are about, oh, eight or fifteen people on average. Most grow crops, but others raise animals for food and wool and, you know. Essentials."
The warmth at her back was a harsh counterpoint to the chill that threatened to frost her breath over, so Jacta rubbed her nose with her hand to warm the former, shifting uncomfortably. She was well aware that Tabrika was poorly dressed for the weather, but it hadn't occurred to her to offer the Lykos a seat nearer the fire, yet. If the young woman'd known what the weather was like, she'd have dressed for it. Right?
Jacta was silent as she listened, nose wrinkling at the thought of entire troupes of story-tellers... what a waste of time. How did they make a living, or even get food? Oh. Wait. She was forgetting that they weren't human. They probably ate whatever they found, and raw at that. Still, Jacta was trying very hard not to be judgmental tonight, when she was so out of her element. She simply allowed the silence to draw on a little longer as she moved on to Tabrika's question. She could sense that her father wanted to jump in -- he usually did the talking when it came to meeting up with trading partners or heads of farmsteads -- but he was also keeping firmly in control of himself for Jacta's benefit.
The human raised a hand, a half-conscious, sweeping gesture that she used as she tried to illustrate: "Think permanent buildings, with huge fields all around. There are about, oh, eight or fifteen people on average. Most grow crops, but others raise animals for food and wool and, you know. Essentials."
The warmth at her back was a harsh counterpoint to the chill that threatened to frost her breath over, so Jacta rubbed her nose with her hand to warm the former, shifting uncomfortably. She was well aware that Tabrika was poorly dressed for the weather, but it hadn't occurred to her to offer the Lykos a seat nearer the fire, yet. If the young woman'd known what the weather was like, she'd have dressed for it. Right?
The cold wasn't bothering Tabrika as much as it could, and she was doing well enough crouched on the ground and hugging her knees. Besides, closer to the fire meant closer to the people and closer to the press of noise and smells. She twitched a little at another howl from one of the Anesiel tribe-Lykos, trying and failing to escape from his or her captors. "Poor guy," she muttered under her breath, looking sideways in that direction. Being locked up on her full moon night would be horrible-- spirits, would they have to do that, here? She didn't want to think about it.
"It sounds really... open, and stuff. And empty." Tabrika was used to trees all around her, and a big swath of field around a building was just like asking for it to be attacked or burned down or something. "But you guys raise animals some, too?" That was one thing they had in common, then: their animal husbandry. What a weird thing to have in common. "I mean, my pack and my parents' pack don't, so much, but others in my tribe do. And the other tribes."
"It sounds really... open, and stuff. And empty." Tabrika was used to trees all around her, and a big swath of field around a building was just like asking for it to be attacked or burned down or something. "But you guys raise animals some, too?" That was one thing they had in common, then: their animal husbandry. What a weird thing to have in common. "I mean, my pack and my parents' pack don't, so much, but others in my tribe do. And the other tribes."
Jacta reacted too, but not in sympathy. The howl twitched a terror-reflex somewhere deep in her animal hind-brain, a reaction that she sharply quelled. She heard the muttered 'poor guy', and was drawn to that opening like a moth to open flame. "Well, they raise 'em. Most I ever did was help birth a calf, never actually raised or slaughtered anything, myself. Farm-owners do the work, and we help keep the flow of food and materials and useful products between people -- but if you don't mind my asking, what's with the 'poor guy'?" She indicated in a vague way the direction from which the howl had come from. "You're telling me that was one of you guys?" She wasn't trying to be rude! She was simply having a difficult time comparing the meek, crouched-down form of Tabrika with the eerie, predatory noise not too far away!
"Oh, yes. That's an Anesiel. This is theif full moon." Tabrika pointed up at the source of the blue light bathing the area nonchalantly. "The other tribe's guides and some of the bigger ones my age are helping keep them from hurting anybody, but most of the time we just, you know, take it out instead of have to be hemmed in... it'd be horrible having to be controlled like that." She looked again in the Anesiel's direction, still wondering how it would be handled with the other full moons-- the ones that weren't spent traveling. Would she have to be controlled, too? Hemmed in by other tribes, or maybe locked in a little room? The thought was enough to make her shudder a little. They could just lock her out of the castle-part, instead. She'd not come in until the moon set.
Jacta stared at her for a full thirty seconds before she said anything, attempting to swallow that mellow explanation, mentally regurgitating it, trying to chew it down a little so that it would process. "You all do that? I thought it was just a rumor..." her voice had gone even quieter, now. Her stomach churned. She wished she had her almanac with her... suddenly the prospect of catching a rare double moon night didn't delight her like it had in the past. The very thought made her a little queasy.
"What do you... do when you're like that?" she asked, barreling a little ahead of herself in the need to quell fear of the unknown. She hoped she wouldn't have to find out first person!
"What do you... do when you're like that?" she asked, barreling a little ahead of herself in the need to quell fear of the unknown. She hoped she wouldn't have to find out first person!
"Nope, all of us, on our moon." Tabrika watched Jacta curiously. She thought humans knew all about this; the thought that they didn't was foreign. The fact that anyone wouldn't was foreign to her, to whom it was as natural as breathing. "Mine's Rapemi. Normally that's when we have pack-leader challenges and challenges over mate-rights and things, or raids on other tribes, but a lot of time if there isn't any, we'll just hunt."
She described it matter-of-factly, because that's what it was to her. Normal. The urge to run and hunt and kill was strong on those nights, sure, but she'd been feeling them for eighteen years now. Though they didn't usually kill in challenges, sometimes the instinct got the better of them on those nights in particular. They wound up very bloodied more often than not. Pack was stronger than the killing urge, but only just.
She described it matter-of-factly, because that's what it was to her. Normal. The urge to run and hunt and kill was strong on those nights, sure, but she'd been feeling them for eighteen years now. Though they didn't usually kill in challenges, sometimes the instinct got the better of them on those nights in particular. They wound up very bloodied more often than not. Pack was stronger than the killing urge, but only just.
"Hunt." Jacta echoed matter of factly. She took a deep breath in, then wooshed it out again. There was something about the straightforwardness of Tabrika's tone of voice that did a little to quell that niggling of fear, so she did what she could to stomach it and moved on. Humans had fought for this treaty and this huge, sprawling complex to be put together. There was absolutely no reason to believe that Jacta and other human youth were being sent to their death. Not when eighteen was the magic number, not when young, able-bodied people were so desperately needed.
She didn't want to become unreasonable, especially with her father and 'compatriot' so close at hand. "Well," she attempted to lighten her mood. "Let's hope there's lots of hunting ground on the other side of that wall, huh?"
She didn't want to become unreasonable, especially with her father and 'compatriot' so close at hand. "Well," she attempted to lighten her mood. "Let's hope there's lots of hunting ground on the other side of that wall, huh?"
"I'm just hoping they're not gonna lock us all in our rooms or something," Tabrika admitted, a little nervously. "I've never... I mean. We're always just free to run, but being locked in a little room, when all you want to do is run?" And hunt, and kill, but she had a little tact. Sometimes. And she didn't really want to scare Jacta, not really. "It'd be torture. Just lock us outside the castle, we can go chase each other around, but don't lock us up inside." She had a feeling that'd only make them all madder, and if they got out, there would be hell to pay.
Here was hoping that there was another Rapemi to chase around! With such a small group, that wasn't entirely likely.
Not that Jacta was thinking such lofty thoughts. Rather, she was thinking, 'so long as they don't put you and me together, I don't care what you do, lady.' She hoped they had a choice of who they'd be sharing space with; she wasn't foolish enough to expect that everybody got privacy. She just hoped that she could be fortunate enough to stay with other humans!
"I'm sure they've got everything figured out," the dark-skinned woman replied, finding it difficult to sound soothing. Her maternal instinct, despite physical evidence to the contrary, was lacking. "The council didn't put us all in here together to torture us, right?"
Shifting again as she realized that her behind had grown numb, she turned her attention back to those that she was familiar with. Trenor was keeping half an ear on the conversation, the bad eavesdropper that he was, but he'd turned his head back to the fire and to the other humans there. Habbie was half-turned, and had since put a booted foot closer to Jacta's, so that the two of them were barely touching. A flow of strength came from him, both in the magical and the social sense. Jacta didn't much notice the former, but the latter was greatly appreciated.
Very belatedly, she realized that Tabrika was curled in the cold by herself, alone and apart from the camp circle. She seemed pretty self-pitying, or at least prone to worrying. It was hard not to try to soothe the other girl. "Hey, you want to scooch in?" she asked, indicating an empty place between her and her father as she dragged her pack closer to Habbie. The firelight flickered through the new gap, falling across Tabrika's hunched shoulders.
Not that Jacta was thinking such lofty thoughts. Rather, she was thinking, 'so long as they don't put you and me together, I don't care what you do, lady.' She hoped they had a choice of who they'd be sharing space with; she wasn't foolish enough to expect that everybody got privacy. She just hoped that she could be fortunate enough to stay with other humans!
"I'm sure they've got everything figured out," the dark-skinned woman replied, finding it difficult to sound soothing. Her maternal instinct, despite physical evidence to the contrary, was lacking. "The council didn't put us all in here together to torture us, right?"
Shifting again as she realized that her behind had grown numb, she turned her attention back to those that she was familiar with. Trenor was keeping half an ear on the conversation, the bad eavesdropper that he was, but he'd turned his head back to the fire and to the other humans there. Habbie was half-turned, and had since put a booted foot closer to Jacta's, so that the two of them were barely touching. A flow of strength came from him, both in the magical and the social sense. Jacta didn't much notice the former, but the latter was greatly appreciated.
Very belatedly, she realized that Tabrika was curled in the cold by herself, alone and apart from the camp circle. She seemed pretty self-pitying, or at least prone to worrying. It was hard not to try to soothe the other girl. "Hey, you want to scooch in?" she asked, indicating an empty place between her and her father as she dragged her pack closer to Habbie. The firelight flickered through the new gap, falling across Tabrika's hunched shoulders.
Thus far in the conversation, Tabrika had been trying very hard to keep her attention focused on Jacta. The stirrings of "pack" between Jacta and the male next to her made her uncomfortable, so she had tried to ignore them; the background noise of all those other humans was distracting, so she had been trying to ignore them, too. But when Jacta purposefully moved over and drew that attention to them purposefully, she froze, eyes wide and slightly panicked. The sound of a dozen beating hearts and breathing lungs, and all those smells, suddenly seemed overwhelming, when she couldn't focus on just one. The very idea of getting up in there with them all was just terrifying, almost as much-- and in the same way-- as being locked up for a full moon.
Words. She needed words to go there. "I, uh. Thank you but... but I think they're opening the gate in a minute, and-- and I gotta get my bag."
Words. She needed words to go there. "I, uh. Thank you but... but I think they're opening the gate in a minute, and-- and I gotta get my bag."
The human wasn't aware of the panic that gripped Tabrika, but she noticed the slight stiffening, the excuse to get away. "Alright, whatever," she conceded. She'd been trying to be friendly, but it looked like the Lykos wouldn't have any of it.
Turning to look past the haze of light and smoke that came off the fire, she attempted to see any kind of activity beyond the milling of the youths who'd come here tonight to get in, and couldn't see much of anything. Not yet, anyways. "Time to douse the fire?" Harbenae asked, speaking up finally now that the encounter seemed to have come to an end.
Trenor stood, as did his daughter. "No, we've got some kids to bring back with us when the gate opens up. They're going to need a welcoming party." He put an arm around Jacta to give her a quick squeeze, but it did little to reassure the young woman. She felt oddly as if she were being traded off. She went in, somebody would come out and take her place. Jacta wasn't one to dwell in misery, however, so she squared her shoulders as she hoisted her pack to her back. "I'll write every week," she promised. "Even if they won't allow me to send letters."
"We'll be thinking of you, kiddo," Trenor smiled, his teeth stark against the dark of his face. "You'll do just fine."
Half past midnight had approached almost without warning, for a commotion was starting up towards the gate. Harbenae launched himself into Jacta's arms for a last-second embrace... it was going to be a long time before they were able to see each other again.
Jacta couldn't help but feel distant already. She squeezed back, then shook her father's hand, and joined the small throng. Any thoughts of the miserable Lykos girl were drowned out for now. She had other things to worry about.
Turning to look past the haze of light and smoke that came off the fire, she attempted to see any kind of activity beyond the milling of the youths who'd come here tonight to get in, and couldn't see much of anything. Not yet, anyways. "Time to douse the fire?" Harbenae asked, speaking up finally now that the encounter seemed to have come to an end.
Trenor stood, as did his daughter. "No, we've got some kids to bring back with us when the gate opens up. They're going to need a welcoming party." He put an arm around Jacta to give her a quick squeeze, but it did little to reassure the young woman. She felt oddly as if she were being traded off. She went in, somebody would come out and take her place. Jacta wasn't one to dwell in misery, however, so she squared her shoulders as she hoisted her pack to her back. "I'll write every week," she promised. "Even if they won't allow me to send letters."
"We'll be thinking of you, kiddo," Trenor smiled, his teeth stark against the dark of his face. "You'll do just fine."
Half past midnight had approached almost without warning, for a commotion was starting up towards the gate. Harbenae launched himself into Jacta's arms for a last-second embrace... it was going to be a long time before they were able to see each other again.
Jacta couldn't help but feel distant already. She squeezed back, then shook her father's hand, and joined the small throng. Any thoughts of the miserable Lykos girl were drowned out for now. She had other things to worry about.
Feeling a strange and uncomfortable mixture of horrible and relieved, Tabrika slunk back towards her own kind and kin, looking over her shoulder at the last embraces and catching the encouraging words-- the contact, the promises, the affection.... It was depressing, too. She was never going to last six years without her pack; she didn't know how the other Lykos did it. How the humans did it.
Maybe she'd have to ask, if she could find Jacta later. And apologize for fleeing so abruptly.
Maybe.
Maybe she'd have to ask, if she could find Jacta later. And apologize for fleeing so abruptly.
Maybe.