Al-Adil knew that Mike was was coming before he came into view; the hawk had told him. He never had to wait long for the man. Mike was always as punctual and precise as his letters.
Al-Adil called Antonia back from her examination of a lizard's burrow so that the three of them stood together to meet the human when he arrived, Al-Adil and his daughters. "Ahlan, ahlan, sadiqi," Al-Adil said to Mike with a broad smile when he walked up. The dilectu took the human's hand in both of his in greeting. Mike's hand was rough and warm which Al-Adil's was not, emphasizing the difference between the two men who, nevertheless, were allies. "I hope your journey was pleasant." This was the sort of man that Al-Adil was, that he would express such a sentiment even though he himself had travelled four times the distance to make this meeting.
"My girls," Al-Adil introduced his daughters. "Milagra," the older girl, wearing an expression far too serious for her tender years, "and Antonia." The younger girl feigned sudden shyness, drawing back under the protection of her guardian's wide sleeve. Al-Adil did not force her. In another few moments, she would be bold again. She had suffered much in her short life, and she had to take things at her own pace. This was something her adopted family understood.