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--- campaigns:taika-daagru:2021-09-17 [2021-12-12 01:45] – Stuff from the 5th/6th of November pinkgothic
+++ campaigns:taika-daagru:2021-09-17 [2021-12-12 01:55] (current) – Removed some of the stuff I added, because it better fits the next session pinkgothic
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 "No", she said, rather bluntly. "No, Kukri, if you will, I'm ready to go". She briefly squeezed her eyes shut, thrusting her snout into the fierce wind. Kukri had once heard a colleague describe the readiness with which the low-born of the borderlands leave their families whenever the opportunity to collect food or coinage presented itself, and took it as evidence that their minds were incapable of forming deep bonds beyond brute convenience. (The same colleague had then described the same people as clannish beyond reason, more attached to their relations than to the common good; but for her this did not count as "deep bonds"). It was not at all clear to Kukri that starving on her sisters' side would have been a greater act of love on Giya's part.
-The smoky yellow lights of the inn floated up in the darkness, together with the smell of penguin flocks and fried meat. White pools of guano, vitrified by the cold, crunched underfoot.
-The two travellers entered the inn one last time, enjoying the last offer of heat by something that could be called civilization. Few people were fully awake; many of the construction workers had withdrawn inside for a hot bark tea, and were half-slumbering. The two clambered up the ladder to Kukri's room, which was just about to expire. This time, there was no need to pay a stranger to help her carry her baggage, at least.
-**pinkgothic**:
-As they left the unpleasant scene behind, Kukri's tiredness caught up with her. It took the fresh distance to realise how tense the situation had made her. Nonetheless, sleep was not a luxury she wanted to indulge in before they were out of immediate visual range of the settlement. She gauged that she could manage that far, at least.
-The greater risk was that her slightly soured mood might leak out and contaminate her interactions with Giya. Some effort could smooth it over for a while, but she doubted it would last all the way to where they might set up camp.
-She allowed herself an only partially stifled yawn, then began to collect her gear, gesturing to Giya as to what to carry. She tried to do this quickly - dressed as she was, she was likely to overheat while carrying provisions if she continued to do so inside.
-**Concavenator**:
-The winter torpor, of course, called for its due, and willpower could do only so much against nature; but trudging through barren ground, feathers rippling in the wind and nostrils smoking in the frost, that too was the nature of 'ikrakind. So Kukri steeled herself, and hoped that Giya could do the same with her fanciful beliefs, if she could not do so with natural philosophy.
-The heat of the room was a cruel temptation, but the embrace of the rolled coats, the burden of the lamps and the bags of canned food, and the noise of the rifle's barrel banging against every surface made it just uncomfortable enough to leave it with little regret. Together they clambered down the stairs, just as the innkeeper left her own quarters, most likely to inform Kukri that her hospitality had just run dry. Seeing the two guests bringing down all their baggage, she quietly returned to her rest.
-The inn's door flung open, and the icy air once more stabbed at them through every tear in the coat. In that moment as never before Kukri felt the need to drop everything she carried, pay for one more night of rest, and then return to Grikaa.
-**pinkgothic**:
-But it would, of course, be a supreme failure. Her standing was not good enough to weather such a blow. //Weather//. Weather was indeed their problem. She snorted stubbornly into the cold air, quite against her own desires, and started on her journey with Giya in proverbial tow.
-Mercifully, the winds weren't too bad at this very moment. They could get worse, that much was clear from the season alone, and depending on where they were in the landscape they might have very little shielding from it, but there was no use worrying about it. They //would//, however, have to pay attention to the slopes in the landscape as not to let the winds sweep them downhill in a moment's misplaced footfall.
-At least the direction of the wind was entirely predictable. //Down// was always obviously highlighted by gravity.
-"Is your load a comfortable carry for you?" Kukri asked, distracting herself from her own mild 'no', aware she should endure the current setup for hours without ill effect to her body.
-**Concavenator**:
-"Yes, Kukri" answered Giya. Would she have dared to say otherwise? In any case, she probably had endured worse at more tender an age.
-They were not yet out of the range of civilization: here the snow was still broken and trampled, sullied by all sorts of waste, though not as thickly as in Yakak'ratu streets. Under the slush lay the beaten paths that led to nearby villages. But farther away they could see the snow lay flat and undisturbed, dark blue in the dim starlight. Farther than that, pinpricks of light that might have been waking hamlets, or the stars themselves mirrored in frozen lakes. Farther still, the looming mountains, a jagged black edge darker than the night sky, as if bitten out of it, striped with gleaming glaciers.
-With some luck, they could expect to make fifteen or twenty leagues per day, which would have meant three or four days to reach the edge of the ice, and as many to come back. Yet 'Au'a knew how rare it was for such plans to be fulfilled without pain.
-**pinkgothic**:
-If they were not yet entirely honest with each other now, they would be two days into their march at the very latest, united against the bitter wilds that would try to stop them and might yet succeed in their indifference.
-"Thank you, again, for offering your assistance," Kukri remarked. It was only right that they carry their dignity and civilisation with them -- even if Giya's experience with those concepts was necessarily much smaller than Kukri's.
-Hopefully, her experience with the wilds was proportionally larger.
-"Should I lead us in a direction you think is unwise," Kukri said. "I ask that you tell me immediately." A better plan would be to let Giya lead, of course - and indeed Kukri intended to allow her to do just that, but not today, and likely not until another day had come and gone.
-**Concavenator**:
-"Yes, Kukri", Giya said again. It crossed Kuri's mind that Giya might be unwilling to contradict her employer even if they should be in danger, perhaps until the situation should be beyond recovery. Kukri quickly regretted this thought, but still -- how to make sure that wasn't the case?
-She was growing accustomed to the cold. The frost that had bloomed on the tip of her feathers had ceased to grow, and her walking pace had become regular, escaping her conscious perception. How much more terrible would this walk be, had nature given the 'ikra slender proportions and a bare skin!
-After some time, over the hiss of the wind, Giya spoke on her own. "The wind, I think, gets stronger. If it gets much stronger from there", and she gestured at the mountains in front of them, "we must stop and we lie down, and we must cover our faces. That wind hurts the eyes and the mouth, and it can make blind".
-**pinkgothic**:
-That, then, was a good sign that Giya would not remain silent until the situation was beyond repair. Kukri privately breathed a sigh of relief before squinting forward, as though watching the mountain would grant an adequate impression of the progression of the wind. But the clouds were falling down its edges now gave no indication how they would fall an hour from now.
-"We'll be prepared, then," Kukri promised. "And pause as the wind demands." A pause, then: "Thank you."