Differences

This shows you the differences between two versions of the page.

--- campaigns:taika-daagru:2023-11-25 [2023-12-24 02:30] – pinkgothic
+++ campaigns:taika-daagru:2023-11-25 [2024-02-04 02:30] (current) – pinkgothic
@@ Line 80: / Line 80: @@
 "Fine for me," she -- the sled's driver, presumably, as nobody else had appeared -- replied. "Then I reckon you should go and call her. Sure hope she's not too far. But as long as the quarter day's not done, you'll find me here". She drummed with her fingers on the side of the sled and looked away from Kukri, not toward the open tundra, but the shacks and cabins of Yakak'ratu.
+**pinkgothic**:
+There was a brief hesitance in Kukri's posture, her attention sweeping down along the road - but the sled seemed the best choice, structurally sound and with a strong sail, so any minor misgiving she might have about the financial arrangement and the strangeness of the lack of beasts to pull it with seemed petty. She gestured an acknowledgement, then began to stalk away from the sled, trying to recall the path to Giya's family house.
+**Concavenator**:
+It was striking how different the city looked, with so many more people walking around, the light of lamps and bonfires multiplied, and the snow mostly cleared away or trampled into mush. The demeanor of people did not seem correspondingly more cheerful, but that might be attributed to Kukri's own exhaustion and concerns. There was the temple yard where she had started looking for a guide -- how strange that someone else altogether could have taken Giya's place -- now cleaned up, solemnly empty, and festooned with ribbons of beaten bark. There were the smokehouses and bakeries where she had bought her last-hour supplies. And there, looking as lonely and cobbled-together as earlier, wedged between two sturdier buildings with nothing but curtains to protect it from the throes of a dying winter, was the dwelling-place of Giya's father.
+**pinkgothic**:
+Kukri tried to banish the unhappiness from her body language as she approached, fighting against the reluctance to expose herself to that measure of poverty again. It was real, she told herself, and ignoring it wouldn't make it go away. The best she could do for these people was to ensure at least one of their family prospered.
+Quietly, she approached the family home, looking for signs of Giya.
+**Concavenator**:
+A kid burst out of the curtains, hopping, not walking, in the manner of nestlings; his or her feet broke through the upper crust of snow just a pace in front of Kukri's boots. The little creature, whose fluff had not quite lost the messy grey of the nest, looked up at Kukri and, before she could react in any way, rushed back into the gloom, as if caught in the middle of some blasphemous act.
+A feeble voice seeped out from the house: "Who's there? What's that?"
+**pinkgothic**:
+Djayu, almost surely. "It is again Kukri of the Society of Natural Philosophy," Kukri introduced herself, still careful in her approach, both for the sake of her mildly mangled limb and for the sake of the decency of anyone she might unwittingly surprise with her presence, even after announcing herself - certainly, she'd rather not spook another little hatchling. "Is Giya here?"
+**Concavenator**:
+"Ah," said the man, lifting his head from the makeshift couch in which he sat, and raising a wing to give shelter to the kid; "Welcome back, est... esteemed philosopher. I... hope, I do hope, that your travel was well. Now, you wish-- to leave?" Kukri saw that Giya was reclining next to him, with her head resting on the down of his folded thigh.
+**pinkgothic**:
+"Thank you," Kukri said. "I was a bit of a fool and hurt my foot, but it is a minor injury, more inconvenience than likely to spell any lasting trouble. Indeed, though, I must head back to Grikaa, where my skills are of use and I can earn my keep. And--" she gestured to Giya respectfully, "--your daughter, in time. There is a sled waiting for us; not //too// urgently, mind you, so please don't feel like you must hurry."
+**Concavenator**:
+"Ah, yes, yes", he said, looking somewhat uncomfortable, and his eyes darted back and forth between Kukri and Giya even as his head remained still; "So you must, you must go, now? I am the Guild's obedient servant --" His breath caught a snag, and he was unable to say anything more. Giya lifted her muzzle from the greyish fuzz and spoke quietly: "When you wish we are free to go, Kukri. Only if you wish to eat and drink with us before, my sisters can give you. Or I will follow you to Grikaa".
+**pinkgothic**:
+As before, there was little that Kukri wanted less than to observe these people - it felt like disrespectful gawking from inside, making her rather uncomfortable. She would certainly take none of their food and drink, given how short they were of it. But she also did not mean to rush her freshly baked apprentice, and so she said the thing that was right, not the thing that she wanted: "I have no need for sustenance, but would be honoured to be your guest if you will let me simply sit by." None of it was a lie - she would be honoured, in the sense that one was humbled by another's deeds, rather than their person or achievements.
+**Concavenator**:
+Something turned slightly less gloomy in Giya's posture. "Sit with us, then, please". She half-rose in order to take a rolled-up cloth from the ragged pile that formed most of Djayu's makeshift nest, and spread it to cover a patch of ground. Despite all, that piece of cloth was in surprisingly good shape, and certainly the best-looking of the pile, having once been embroidered with the white and yellow pinpricks of the blooming tundra, and with cross-shaped pelagorns soaring across the glassy sky. There was something sacrilegous in stepping over that object and mashing it under one's crusty boots into the dirt, and yet that is precisely was she was expected to do.
+**pinkgothic**:
+And so she sat, doing a decent job at hiding how uncomfortable it made her. Giya had sacrificed plenty of things to help her and to come with her now; surely Kukri could bear these moments, in turn. At least that's how she considered it. She tucked her arms under her body, dipping her muzzle in a polite gesture of thanks.
+**Concavenator**:
+For some time it was peaceful, even pleasant, the kind of drowsy warmth one finds in a nest, even if it belongs to strangers. Old Djayu was not a poor host, in his way. Giya drew near to Kukri and for an instant seemed about to poke her with her snout as one would a nestling, though she changed her mind at once.
+A voice rang out, in the trampled square just beyond the curtains. "Oi! Philosopher! Time to go!" The people in the nest were run through by a current as they were jerked back to consciousness.
+**pinkgothic**:
+The voice startled Kukri - by her understanding, there was still some time, if certainly not an excess of it. Was it even the person she had chartered that was calling for her? It seemed strange that the woman would look for Kukri when she owed her no such courtesy. She rose at once, pushing her head out past the drapes to satisfy her flustered curiosity.
+**Concavenator**:
+It was not. The person in question was somewhat younger and leaner, wrapped into a flapping dark cloak and a broad-brimmed hat. "Quick, you!" she shouted, though not so loud that she'd be heard across the street. "The sled's about to go! Come, take your stuff, or we'll leave you here!" Then, with no further explanation, she turned around, cloak and brim pressed against her snout, and strode off through the alley.
+**pinkgothic**:
+Oh - an associate of the sled driver, then. Kukri whipped her own head back around to glance toward Giya. "Giya, it's time to go," she said, as gently as the abruptness of it allowed.
+**Concavenator**:
+Giya leapt up to her feet, twitched as if to shake torpor off herself, and jumped out onto the cold floor. She made a couple steps toward Kukri and the open space, tilted her head toward Djayu and looked at him in silence for several heartbeats, still walking, more slowly but surely, away from the nest. And in a moment they were both out, in the dim flickering lamplight, staring at a cloaked figure that almost disappeared in the distance.
+**pinkgothic**:
+As a last gesture to the family she was rending apart, Kukri said: "Thank you for your hospitality. May 'Au'a shine upon you." Said, she took to limping out of the abode and after the cloaked woman at the fastest possible pace - which, to be quite fair to her, was a decent one, if not necessarily sustainable for more than a kilometre. There was nothing broken, after all, it was just tender, and she could override her discomfort by power of will.
+**Concavenator**:
+Djayu had already vanished behind the drapes, but Kukri heard him reply: "And upon you, madam. Thanks". And then he added with a strained voice something in the local dialect, which included Giya's name.
+Giya pursued Kukri in silence, helding her speed even with her companion's. For a while, there was no sound except the crinkle of snow underfoot, the whistle of rushing air, and increasingly heavy breathing. Several times the stranger disappeared behind a corner or a crowd only to reappear heartbeats later. Finally the travelers caught up with her.