A Huntress is Born, Lives, and Stalks Through My Fantasies…

Monthly Archives: April 2013

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The stars surrounded me, and Xanaas had built the cookfire nearest up to warm me. Pelts were piled high and fur sides in, all around me, mounded so high that I could barely see above them, and only my face could feel the chill of the spring night…

But I had the stars….and, I watched, feeling Kaivelt in them, and knew that he felt me, too, when his soul twined with joyous peace through mine…

I opened myself to every detail of the weather, the Pridekeep, the location of each and every star I could see in the sky, as a whirling picture, noting their colors, their brightness, the picture-patterns the Singers told the stories of, and which twinkled, for in his mind, as he drifted into sleep, dreaming for me the stars that had been moving – MOVING!, – said that such things were important….

I pulled in as much of the Huntthread as I could hold – open to me, to help in my healing, and made stronger by the arytana nectar and broth the healer spooned into me every minor moonslength….

Tacivaar felt what I was doing, and I felt his anger….but Xanaas stopped him from coming near, and insisted that he must leave me to what I was doing, which was as sima garo provided, and must therefore not be altered.

I knew the healer feared for my life, but I didn’t. I had Kaivelt’s strength, and my own, and the Pride. A I had never been stronger, in spirit.

~I am still here, my daughter. You have traveled far; far beyond my sphere. You know the greatness of what you call Everdeep, which is my home. I will help you to bring your Solemate here…but it will be to you to do the bringing….sima garo provides as it will, even for me.~

“How will you help?” I was growing sleepy, and my voice was almost a whisper, and thin, weak….but I feel as strong as Aletris, as Everdeep…..

~I will add my sense of place to yours, and to the thread that leads you to him. If he chooses to, he can follow that thread to you, if he has the strength and time enough for such a journey. He is a great distance, my daughter, and he doubts….~

I knew it true. Kaivelt was not like me, and he knew little enough of my ways. Sima garo was a truth he might come to, but he was ruled by a need for proof and logic. What he felt, he didn’t trust; emotions had undone him, before, and would do so again if he was not on his guard against them…

But, when he dreamed, when he allowed himself to feel, as he did now, in this space, he sought me, and, if his mind and his awareness of sima garo were clumsy in their reaching toward me, the fierceness of his desires and the way he wielded them was not.He was breathtaking, even in our dreaming…..and, of a sudden, I was wreathed in arytana, as I had been on that first night I had sensed him, and become one with him….

We were together, in furs, in the bower, but with enough open space above to watch the stars….

“There,” he whispered into my ear, his breath hot and soft, and smelling, still, to me, like the fruit he had eaten, the fruit that had first let him sense me, touch me…

He pointed up, straight up. I followed the path of his finger, and together we studied the sky. “It is the red star, there….almost, it cannot be seen, from here, but, if you learn its place, sometimes, in some seasons, as your world turns, you will see it, and you will know that I am there…..there, looking for you, here.”

We watched the sky, without talking, for a time. Then he said, “My star is at the zenith of your sky, in this place, and at this season, my own. If you can track its movement, perhaps we can use this to find your star in my sky, and I can begin to calculate the space between….”

His mind sank into a place I didn’t understand, a place filled with knowing as alien to me as the Hunt was to him. I smiled, because this was who he was, and I had no wish to change him. “You will have your Hunt, my fierce one, and I shall have mine. And, if sima garo provides, we will find each other.

And I looked up at the place in my sky he had called the zenith, and watched until his star passed out of sight, and I fell asleep with it, and my awareness of him, glowing redly in my soul…..

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I woke in starlight, and heard my breath hiss out as I realized I was aboard the shuttle that had been so much a part of my dreaming. Perhaps, then, I was dreaming. still….?

Niaan -!”

The cry rose within me, and broke from me – and I felt Mother and Father, rousing themselves from their own dreaming, readying themselves to meet my needs if they were able.

I was alone in their large bed, the sheets slipping cool against my sweaty skin, and ahnstav stirred within me. I shivered as I imagined Niaan, my own, once more wearing only the light of the stars, her skin glowing, tempting my fingers.

I trailed them in the air above her, feeling her, tracing the first hints of the promised curves that stirred my blood to sparking embers, and her eyes glowed, silvered blue, warm, sleepy, capturing me…

I dared to touch my fingertips to her lips, and she nipped and suckled – and then our bodies were straining to match instincts and desires they weren’t yet ready for – I could smell her arytana, as though I was back with her inside the woven-vine bower…

I stretched outward, and inward, at once, not certain how I was able to do this, only that I wanted nothing other than to be with her thus, forever, to be certain that she was truly more than my fevered dreamings…


A faint sighing whisper, like the call of an unseen silverbird through the thin air of the desert, and I stilled myself, afraid to breathe, almost, unless I lose the sense of her.

~~Always touching – ?~~

~~And always touched.~~

No, it was no dream. We touched, as Promised, with Everdeep no match for what breathed and pulsed between us, no matter how dimly perceived. No, she was not a dream. She was my reality.

I could feel her – could look directly to the point in the deep carpet of space – the one point that led to her…

I wanted that point, wanted to go where she was, this moment –

But it could not be now…

No, not now. The sense of her was fading, as wisps of steam upon the Forge. ~~But as soon as I am able to choose for myself, I will come for you, Niaan…~~

From far too far away, too far to reach, I felt the echoes of her answer. ~~I await you.~~

Then Mother and Father were with me, tending me without blocking my view of the stars, and, with their ministrations, reality shifted, and she was small and curled in the deeps of my soul….

But, when I fell back into sleep, later, after food, and drink, it was with the promise of the future held within me, and in the glow of the stars that would one day lead me to her…

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I stared up at the stars, Kaivelt’s Everdeep – I wanted to be there with him…

He was gone.

But yet, not.

He was that embracing darkness, waiting to embrace me. But I was too far away, in the Pridekeep.

Bring me outside.”

You are unwell, child.” Fear-scent so desperate it addled thought led me to Tacivaar, and Trinna. The Huntleader frowned. “You must remain here, quiet and still.

Behind them, though, was Xanaas the Healer who seemed always calm and willing to listen to children as to anyone else. Better to talk to him, than the Huntleader or Trinna.

I must go outside, Xanaas. He is there, and I must be with him”

He met my gaze steadily – like Kaivelt’s could be; as his sire’s. He nodded. “Yes, I understand.” He turned to the Huntleader and my Huntmother. “This is not a time to burden the child with the fullness of the Pride’s expectations upon her.”

I looked back to the stars, which held my link to my Solemate. I was too weak to move, so I watched the patch of sky, placing my faith in it, and in Xanaas, and in sima garo.

I don’t like it.”

Plainly said, Huntleader, but scarcely of import, against her need.”

I need Kaivelt, and the stars.”

Who is this Kaivelt who tries to rob her from us?”

He is my Solemate. We are our own, and not thine.”

Tacivaar strode to me, knelt, and took my hand without asking. His yellow eyes, robbed me of the stars, of the place I could most feel Kaivelt’s existence.

You have no Solemate. You are a child.”

Before I could argue – a foolish choice, with the Huntleader – Xanaas said, “She must be taken out, else she will choose the boy and die here.”

His clutch on my hand tightened; he blocked Xanaas’ view of me. I knew he could not cuff me, here, but he said, too softly for anyone but me to hear. “If you try any such thing, child, I will set the entire Hunthread upon you, and leave no chance that you will even look to the stars unless I allow it.”

Kaivelt and I surged together, strong, fierce, and hot –

Trinna pressed and rubbed herself against him, from behind. “Come to my furs, Huntleader, and leave the child to the Healer. There are ways to pass time that she is not yet ripened for…”

A frozen moment, and we waited – and then he growled deep in his throat, and their two bodies blended. and then they slipped away to the pleasures of Matehunt.

Xanaas knelt where Tacivaar had been. His eyes were dark and kind. “There is the sheltered ledge beyond the cookfires, Niaan. Will it suit your needs?”

I nodded as tears came; mine, and Kaivelt’s– tears of loss, and relief, and hope. Xanaas didn’t say anything more, but he lifted me, still in my nest of furs, and carried me to the ledge.

I will be within easy hearing. Call out if you have need of me.”

A gentle hand stroked my forehead, brushing back the hair that clung to it. “Attend to thy joining, now, and heal. All is as sima garo provides.”

And then he was gone, and I was left alone, where I could feel Kaivelt in Everdeep’s embrace.

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I stared, too long, knowing Mother and Father; still tangled in Niaan. She was the reality that made this seem a dream, unreal as the heat-shimmer on the Forge’s obsidian cliffs….cliffs that my mind insisted should be home to arytana vines rich in blooms that fed our dreaming, and our dancing…



“She exists in thy delirium alone, Spock. Thee hast been ill, and fevered.”

Father’s words swirled; they were difficult to catch hold of, and they made little sense, against memories of Niaan…

“I must see the stars. Niaan….”

“It is late morning, Spock. Rest. You’ll see the stars tonight. Now, sip this.”

I pushed at the drinking gourd. It spun from Mother’s hand, splitting upon the stone floor, precious water spilling out….I felt shame – even a child newly walking knew better.

The broken gourd woke me as nothing else had. I licked dry lips with a dry tongue.”I thirst, Mother.” My stomach made a loud rumbling sound.

“And hunger, too,” she said, smiling; face was wet with human tears. “Will you let me help you?”

I nodded, holding to the shreds of the dream. It was illogical, but I could not release Niaan. She was my own, and we had made the promises of bondmates to one another….and, somehow, it did not feel like a dream.

“I must see the stars.”

“Night will eventually come, my son.” Father’s voice was gentle; his face soft. Almost, I could feel the brush of his mind, assurance that I was not alone, and would not be.

Mother lifted another gourd to my lips. “Sip, only, Spock, to begin with. Then we will try some soup.”

I wanted to gulp; tried, now, to pull the gourd to me, to fill my emptiness. Mother pulled the gourd away when I had barely wet my lips. A whimper broke from me.

“Now. I must see the stars, NOW.

I knew only that I must see them, see Everdeep. It went deeper than my need for food, or even water. I must see the stars. I must be among them.

Mother gathered me to her, as she had when I was a baby. I had no strength to resist. There was something settling in her close coolness, the slow beat of her human heart beneath the cushion of her breast….

Father came to sit beside her. I was upon a sleeping couch; another had been placed parallel. His gaze compelled me – he was seeking to understand. “Why the stars, my son?”

“Because she is there…..I must see them. I must.” I sobbed like a child still young enough to be held so, one with no logic or will to resist impulses.

“Then you shall. You must be well enough to travel on the shuttle. To achieve that goal, you must eat, and drink, and rest quietly – the healing trance will help you to heal more quickly, and you may find your dreaming once more, within it.”

“I must see them NOW.”

“No.” I knew that tone. She would not relent, no matter my demands. She would tend me until she was satisfied, and only then would I have the stars. “You will drink, and eat, and, if you can, you will go into the trance. If not, then you will sleep.”

“When you awaken, my son, you shall have your stars.”

“I must wait?”

“Your death now would serve no logical purpose.”

I sipped the water Mother offered, fighting the urge to gulp, and then took the spoonfuls of plomik soup she fed me….Then, with Father’s guidance,I sank into the layers and levels of trance, that I might heal…

And there, waiting, was Niaan.

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I shiver-sweated in my furs, and heard my voice emerge in Kaivelt’s tongue.

…In my furs?

I shied from the question – Kaivelt was slipping away, melting like snow the spring sun has too long warmed, becoming, once more, only a part of Everdeep, only a part of my dreaming…

But not by his choice…

And not by mine.

We spoke the words, together, while we could still feel each other. His soul knew them for binding words that would seal us as tight as the Huntthread.



“This is no dream. I am real. I await you.”

Wherever he was on that dusty red world, his Healer pumped curatives into him, and he was slipping, slipping away, becoming nothing…and I was slipping too, away from him, icy Everdeep pulling me away, away…

I faded into his fevered dreams, unable to cling more tightly.

He was of a people who did not count dreams as true. I must not be his dream, and nothing more!

“This is no dream. I am real. I await you.”

As my own life pulled me back more and more powerfully, I felt him grasp at that thought, hold to it, with something as deep as life, deeper than reason.

Gasping whoosh of breath, of awareness of place….sweatdrenched furs, cookfires, roasting rabbit and kalaana, the scent of Healer Xanaas, and Trinna, and Tacivaar, and the rest of the Pride, worry threaded through all, the sounds of the other children at play and the Singers weaving a healing song…

“Will she live?”

“It is up to her. She may choose to stay with her dreaming, and create her truth there. If she does, her body here will die.”


“You speak, Trueborn?”

Kaivelt was nothing more than shadow or mist on a fall morning.

I could follow where it led, still, find him, be with him…I could scent the trail, feel it to my marrow.

But then there could be no Runs in the Huntlands, no prey – no Dancing, or Singing –

~Be with your people, my own. I will find you.~

Only his fierceness and his stubbornness allowed as much. He was smoke against the stars of Everdeep, rising and fading until I could barely scent him in my mind, less than a dream.

One thought more…


We thought it together, and then my eyes opened to stare up past the cookfires – to the scrap of Everdeep seen through the venting hole…

Somewhere in that vastness – vastness within vastness, endless vastnesses – was my prey, and my Hunter…

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We were other than we had been – something new, something born of those dim, past, separate selves – but more, with no division. We were new life and Being…

We were – and it was enough.

Eternity stretched, and we reached toward it –

Here. He is found.”

Does he live?”

He lives – Sense of being touched by impossible cold – jarring unity, shivering into reality.

He is fevered. He dreams in delirium. His mind is strong, and the dreaming is his reality.”

Tend him, Kiral. Can he be moved?”

He must be. The sun will touch the wall in 3.52 minutes. He must not be exposed to it, now.”

Transport will commence in 32.15 seconds, if he can tolerate it.” Familiar voice, tugging, tearing at what we were, straining the joining.

That is uncertain, Sarek. Thy child is not stable; he has been too long untended. He may die, despite our intervention.”

Then beam him out!” This voice touched me, tore me from the dream; from Niaan my mate. Mother! “If he’s going to die, don’t let him die without anyone who knows and loves him!”

In his mind, thy child is not alone, Lady Amanda. Commence transport when prepared.”

Tingling chill, shattering me, dissolving all that we had shared.

Except that Niaan was still there, a shadowy presence at the edge of knowing, at the edges of being…

And then Mother, pulling me in, holding me. “Spock! Spock – what happened to you? My child.”

Leave us, if there is no help you can render,. Allow us privacy, and my wife her humanity with our child. “

He will live, or he will not, Sarek, It is a matter of the child’s will. I will leave you, unless you have further need of me.”

Spock? Son, we’re here – your father and I. We’ll stay with you. Won’t you come back to us?”

Her touch, remembered from infancy, beloved, safe.


She was fading, dissolving.

No!” I struggled, reaching –

He dreams – most powerfully, and vividly, my wife -”

I know. I can feel it. We’re here, Spock.”

Things slipping into place, Niaan tattering, slipping away –

Parted from me, but never parted; never and always touching and touched – I await you…”

I heard and felt the echoes of her mind, giving the promise just as I had – I felt them, and then she was only memory, and it was Mother and Father before me.

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Disclaimer – This post contains mild sexual content, and is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

The dancing was nature – weaving, endless, lovely, all belonging and knowing. The feast of Souldance and the gorging glut of Matehunt…

The feast, the gorging…., then, sleep, and dreams….

Dreams flowing, out to the comfort of nearkin, in this place of wildness and freedom. They slept, wound together in their own weaving, and dreams of tending to us, to themselves…of sheltering, and feeding, and sustaining peace, that there would be no need or tension from without the dancing to pull us from it…

They sighed, and turned into one another, and safety and affection grew, embracing, surrounding….

Then the others…no – we did not want to go there, but the dream rolled on, carrying us, and they were there, a sharpness of scent that pooled within nostrils, whispering unknown danger, here….

Danger to the dancing and the weaving of souls and lives. Danger we must attend to…

They attracted and they repulsed, at once. Desire stabbed through them both like a thorn neither would admit caused hurt.

“You will return her to me, and to the Keep, at once.” Voice-lash, as though it were the leather cord, another weapon to wield.

“No.” Flat, back turned, but ahnstav threatened, with thoughts of sinking within, of vanquishing, of feeling the woman struggle beneath…

Grappling, the others, gone, for a time, Souldance surging, selves twisting, twining, in a dancing surely more ecstatic even than Matehunt, while clumsy too-young bodies struggled to echo, to attain what was yearned for, straining, hungry…

Welts on her hands were infected. She will stay at the Pridekeep.”

Now he turned, yellow eyes narrowed, unblinking, and the woman stepped back, shrinking and trying to not seem to. She did not know that her scent was a clutching, sour-sweat shiver.

“That is not the whole of the story, although I warrant I will never hear it all.” Fear made her reckless when she ought to be silent and learn. Her words bounded out, sharp, percussive – the lash again, and again – “The chit was back here a full twoday before expected, and clumsy as she never is. The kitchen mistress reports that she was running when she entered, and that her eyes did not seem to see the maid she knocked asunder. She has never before returned a grain afore the time she was required, and, often as not, comes dragging her slippers in the dirt of the Merchant’s Road. There is something to this that you are not saying, and it happened in your accursed Wildlands.”

“My ‘accursed Wildlands’ keep you and yours well fed. What passes within the Huntlands is no concern of yours. The child was not ill or injured, when she left them.”

“You accuse me of – !”

They faced one another, the man calm, the woman enraged. We watched, distant, unseen, as any hunter must be to learn the truth of the prey, gathering information as one must to test a hypothesis.

“I have worn the marks of your leather. I know their look, and the pain they bring. The child is Trueborn, the purest the Pride has had in several generations, and is not a resource to be wasted.”

~ Resource – ?~

“She is my Kaiess – also ‘not a resource to be wasted’.” Her scent was secrets hidden deep, dank and fetid, poisoning her…

“She is the child of my blood. She belongs to me, whatever the law. In her soul, she is mine.”

~No! We are- ours, and no others’!~

He knew it was not true; but would not accept. Only Niaan, daughter of his blood, his Trueborn, could beget him, with his blood, the Truestborn he longed for…and so he would command her, when she was of an age to bear…

Revulsion, in layers and levels. Wonder, that there should be revulsion.

Sudden shattering of unity, spiraling into a reality we could not share.


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This new world like an arytana blossom, opened before us. We felt its promise; here, there was room for us both – as one. Here, we could be, and nothing other…

The craft set down in mountains, and doors opened to a blue lake, the almost-scent of lifepines strangely spiced, of prey animals in abundance, steeping our lungs in wildness; a balm for the barren scrubbed air within the vessel.

There was no arytana; but this freedom, after so long spent in the smallness of the craft, was as rich as the moments after leaving Mother’s Keep, or as being alone upon the Forge, at night.

We shed the robes – they whispered in soft caresses upon our skin, as we undressed the two bodies we occupied; Almost, we forgot about Running, and gave ourselves this moment to Souldance and Matehunt.

But we’d had such Satings as our bodies could reach, while traveling. Now, we longed to stretch, l and touch and taste this new world, and not only see and hear it around our couplings…

We Changed, became a creature made for the open spaces, the trees, the water…

We Ran until hunger gnawed through us, then unity splintered into touching – I wanted to Hunt, to take a ground birds or rodent for my meal; Kaivelt could not, and wished instead to forage for edible plants and early berries.

We moved, loosening the weaving, allowing space in our souldancing for both Hunting and gathering. Instincts grew richer, more textured, so shared, and I found my groundhen tasted better than any I had tasted.

There was no need to Hunt, now, for a time. What was offered by our kin would be enough.

We went to the lake to drink, but ended in splashing and swimming recklessly, frightening birds and fish in our play.

~There is only this.~

We came shivering from the chills of water, to find our robes laid out upon a rock warmed by the yellow-gold sun. We remembered the sun the way it had looked, over the arc of the world, spreading light and erasing dark.

There was beauty in it – something we had forgotten to see. It followed us into our dreaming, and our dancing…

We were. We were of three worlds; we were male, and female. We were the Huntress; we were bred for peace. Our blood ran hot with Huntlust, and Burned through our veins. We were all power; we danced through Everdeep, no planet’s gravity enough to hold us, weight us into reality.

We floated, we danced, and the coolness of space caressed us, until there was warmth.

We woke to woodsmoke and vegetables roasting with a sizzle over an open fire, much in the Tacivaarii fashion, but without the meat.

We were warm in a comfortable sleeping-place, in a still and safe place. We scented and felt our kin in the next chamber, and knew that we must have been carried here and made comfortable, so that we could simply be as we were.

The fire’s music reached into mind and soul and blood; weaving, searing –


We could answer only with play at Matehunt, and at Souldance.

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We arrived after a week in the shuttle, a week during which Niaan was alive and  part of me, while she Secluded herself in her woven arytana bower. A week during which Mother and Father were there, the moment we wished them, and we were left alone as we wished. A week during which food or drink was provided at our first whim.

A week during which we reveled, and learned. A week during which we were always together. A week during which we knew we were Intended for one another.

A week during which we began to heal what was broken within us. A week during which we explored, and played, and watched our lights and shadows, fascinated at their dancing.

A week of passion, and peace…

And then we were sitting in a comfortable chair by the largest planetside window, watching Earth spin below us– made speechless by the beauty of this sight, this floating ball of green and blue and white and its one small, silvered moon..

~ Is my world so, Kaivelt?~

I sighed as Attunement slipped away…

It is a sorrow, to lose the fullness of your bond, my son.” Father was there, at once, as though he knew this moment would come. “In such times, there can be value in remembering the nature of a lifebond – “Parted, and never parted; never and always touching and touched.”

I do not like the partings.” Even as I said it, I knew it was illogical. What matter, my emotional response? It was – as it was. To distract myself from the lessened contact with her, I asked, “Will we come to a place where they do not occur? Where there will be nothing but Attunement?”

All things end, Spock. Nor can you, or any of us, live forever in Attunement. Attend well to it, while you are able, and hold the memory of it close, when it passes.” He made no mention of my lapse of irrationality, and I was grateful.

Then Mother was beside me, swinging out a tray table frame and setting a table upon it.

We’ll be at the cabin in less than an hour, Spock. Would you like to eat?”

I smelled rich plomik soup, and tea, and – avocado? I could almost taste them, already, and Niaan’s curiosity rose.

If you wish it, Mother, I will eat, and share this with Niaan my own, if I am able.”

And she flowed back in, silvery as Earth’s small pale moon, delighting in the tastes and textures of the meal, and at the wonder and beauty of the world as we orbited, crossed the terminus, and the yellow dwarf star – Sol, it was named – rose…

She felt kinship for the sun; hers was like to it. As we descended and the world became more evident, she grew excited, stretching fully into me, and we readied ourselves for these new, unexplored Huntlands. We would Run, when night came to this place. 

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Kaivelt raged, as we ran to the pond where I had hidden, before I Broke the Tacivaarii hunt. He was soothed and tended to by his mother and his sire – although, through him, I could sense that they, too, seethed at Mother’s lash, that any child should ever be treated so.

I held this in my mind for comfort – but I didn’t understand. What would it be, to be safe from cuffs and braided cords, and the pain they carried?

I wanted to feel that, too, in my own life.

I was happily away. Away from Mothers’ furies and rules; away from the kitchen women would want to soothe, else damn, if that was their nature. The scullery maids would want to share stories of their own misdeeds and punishments. Even the dogs would want to sniff, and to lick the blood from my hands – they were far too wise for the sweetsauce.

I wanted only to be shut of the stench, and to be with Kaivelt.

He was there, faster than a tantaa’s strike, the feel of swift motion, hope, wonder, of turning toward me, giving all he was, laying himself open. He was closer, now, and we both could feel it, pulling me to him as no prey ever had, even in Huntlust, and I plunged into the pond while I was still yanking the shift from my body.

I was still at the edge of Mother’s Keep holdings, here, but no one but me came to this corner of the holdings. Mother’s court and the villagers never strayed far from their stone shelters Only the merchant-women and their guards traveled, warily. I was well sheltered from the Merchant Road by a thick verge of lifepines, and they only set foot off it in the shelters they’d built at its sides.

Mother would not seek me out, not again, because doing so would mean admitting she had lost me. Tacivaar would not send anyone to find me, either – I was known for goingoff alone when troubled or chastised. I would answer to both – but it would not be today.

Kaivelt awaited me. Kaivelt,and his kin who had called me “daughter”; and the promise that we could simply be as we were. I swam, preferring the muck of the pond and the danger of bitefish to the stink of the sauce, which would draw bees and flies. When I tired, I floated, and there on the water, I floated, too, in my mind, waiting..

Kaivelt filled me, and I him,dancing, learning, losing self in the joining…

Like the strong branches of the trees, his kin were there, not intruding, but ready to serve and support us as we grew together….

At last, here, there was safety.

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