Roughing It (Nanshe)
Since coming to the range, they'd experienced nothing but rain. Of course, what degree of rain usually made a very large difference in how miserable he was. Downpours were a twelve on a ten scale. Light drizzle just a five. The worst part, of course, was not even the misery. No, the worst part was that he was enjoying himself. Sleeping in whatever cave or reasonably dry construct he could make for the night. Carrying his pruning saw over one shoulder, covered in well-oiled leather to keep from ruining the blade. Staring at endless rows of trees to find the ones he was looking for, then dragging what he managed to find behind him - bundled together with as much rope as he could spare from the length he'd brought with him. This was what freedom really felt like. And his thoughts of four days ago, on the roof of Nanshe's palace in India, came back to him. The farther away he was from Alathea, the better he felt. She'd always unsettled him in one way or another, even if he didn't like to admit it. So what he'd experienced - was it that discomfort, or something else? Either way he needed to work through it, but at least he'd know if the frustration he felt was real or not.
It was going well.
"Watch your step," Shamash called behind him, annoyance heavy in his words.
Nanshe had not dealt as well with the weather, though being nimble and alert made up for many of th efaults in her experience with environments like this. Shamash could drag a bundle of cedar wood behind him, balance his saw on his shoulder and still chart a fair course through the woods. Nanshe, on the other hand - sometimes, a patch of mud came loose under your foot. Nothing to be too concerned about, except that much of the ground here was sloping. Shamash had rescued her at least four times since they'd arrived. That was part of the fun, though, wasn't it? Not that he enjoyed making Nanshe feel like a fool. Just that she was learning how to do something she'd never done before, and he was taking an active part in the learning process. Well, she had the rope, as well, so he couldn't leave her too far behind could he? That wouldn't be a blessing for him in the least. Right now all they were really doing was trying to find a cave, anything in the side of this strange rock and soil hybrid landscape for them to shelter underneath for the night.
"Did you fall again?" he asked, and received a shake of the head as an answer.
Alathea always found a way to muddle his mind, confuse him, because he couldn't tell when she was being honest or not. Did anyone ever trust anyone, when they couldn't tell truth from lies? Shamash had never been confronted by the problem. At least he could limit his exposure to it. Focusing on building those small shacks, on finding the trees, was actually turning out to be the most interesting thing he'd done in a long time. And it didn't hurt to have Nanshe along, did it? With a smile that even rain and mist couldn't hide, the Sumerian god started high-stepping his way up the incline. There was a cave-mouth up there, and with the rain starting to come down even harder Shamash was glad for the sight of it there; something about it was comforting instead of ominous. Probably it reminded him of a ziggurat. The cedarwood was cutting out a groove behind him that made things easier if not simple for Nanshe. And at last Shamash reached the cave, ahead of his partner, who accepted his gracious offer of a hand when she reached the mouth of the cave.
Tall as they both were, they needed to stoop down to even get inside the cave. There would not be a great deal of sitting up, not here. It was dry, thankfully. Cedarwood was propped up against one side of the entrance, where it was going to stay - he'd chopped the already short trees into half-lengths to avoid a situation they'd encountered on the first night, when the trunks had been too long to fit comfortably inside their shelter for the night. Once the rain let up they would probably go out again. Shamash felt certain he'd seen a cedar tree or two not far from where they were sitting at that very moment. It wouldn't take long to find out, and then maybe he could give Nanshe a try at cutting the tree down? If she were interested. Shamash wouldn't blame her if she wasn't. Doing this the old-fashioned way certainly brought him back to days past, when they did everything the old fashioned way. Convenience wasn't just a problem that affected mortal beings. Gods suffered from it too, even if you couldn't define it as true 'suffering'.
"Phew! Fun, isn't it?" Shamash asked - his hair was plastered to his head and face, his clothing - unchanged from the norm - was soaked, and he was clutching a stone in his hand as though it would somehow make him warm. "Aren't you glad you came?"
With a hard breath expelled, Shamash drenched the stone in hot air and set it between them. That stone glowed with a soft white light, and began heating the cavern almost immediately - temperature changes at this altitude weren't frequent, but they could come without warning.