Topic: Paths, Duty, and Dance

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-28 20:35 EST
Days had bled into weeks and before the small woman realized it, almost three months had passed.

The work at the docks had kept hands more than a little busy. There, she had seen the strange ship, The Amaranthine, sail back in, but only whispers came with it. None could get too close or find out who truly owned or captained it. That had been a handful of days two month's time ago. That had also been the same day of the Fisherwoman's death - at least, the remembrance day for it. 'jira spent that day tending the two graves in the large, RhyDin cemetery for those she had known and were buried there.

But there was always some measure and manner of work to do. As busy as Panther could be, it would do her no good to sit about and pine, though heart, body and soul could easily have done so. It was best to keep hands busy so that the mind did not worry or wonder.

It was into the second week of the third month that 'jira started visiting the Glen again. The snows had stopped falling, the ground had thawed, and trees and flowers flourished. When it was she was not at the docks or mending at the inn, she was in the Glen to swim or to run Trygg in races with the breezes that found their way there.

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-28 20:47 EST
The gem of the caravan had finally talked s'jira into coming to see them all when the troupe of entertainers had arrived with the spring to RhyDin. Their tents were colorful with patterns and stripes that could not be missed even from some of the farthest distances on hill or mountain.

S'jira was still smelling of cleaning the fish on wharf alongside grizzled men who were singing their shanties. Some were being sung, quite on purpose, with as salty a 'taste' to their wording as the nearby sea's spray.

"'jira!"

She had heard her name and flitted a look of her onyx-colored gaze towards one of the older men. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Day's fadin', girl. The 'van won't be waitin' on ye!" Chuckling to remind her. She had only mentioned it a few times that day alone.

Now, they had all been out in the day's sun for much of its morning. And though it wasn't quite midday, it was late enough. There was still a need to thoroughly wash self, change and her hair to dry, as well as to see to a few other things before she could even think of making her way to the river's edge where the caravan's encampment was.

Darkly brown hair pulled back from her face shifted against her back. The dull, brown cloth of her skirt matched it well. And her face had darkened with the touch of the sun. She gained her feet and hurried over to the oldest of the group that was laughing as she threw her arms about his next.

"Thanks is given. It is hoped a cool evening ...for you all!" Then scurried off, passing the statue of the mermaid and man that stood for years at the docks. As she passed it and path turned, she was at a barefooted run and hurrying off in the direction of the Red Dragon.

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-28 21:12 EST
As it might have seemed by many that she was out of sight for months, perhaps elsewhere entirely, the small woman had not left the realm since Panther and she had returned from their trip to Llothgar.

But she had not been seen much since RhyDin's January. So much time had slipped away from them that she mourned that they had been gone so long. There was much that had not been seen to, cared for, mended, worked. So much!

To right it, and after the repairs to the cottage, s'jira had immediately started helping out within the inn and docks again. Hands were kept as busy as Panther's duties kept him.

And in the evenings... she had started to take her rest at the Red Dragon. Friends were missed and so many strangers now walked RhyDin's many, many streets.

There was much for 'jira to catch up on...

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-28 21:36 EST
Kitty was amongst the first of those that the small one had seen upon emerging back into the inn of the Red Dragon, though others had been seen daily without pause.

How the fem feline was everything that 'jira was note: beautiful, strong, forthright, and more. But the small one never had minded any of that. She adored the popular and well-known one with claws. Only once had she ever not cared for Kitty... years and years ago when first she had seen her in company with Panther. S'jira did not know what lay between them and a heart was mutely jealous of it. But it had only been once and in a moment's time.

S'jira sat comfortably hearthside and continued to pull thread through cloth by way of that needle. It was where she was often found and where a heart and form were most at ease..purpose, even when there was the chance for rest..

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-28 21:45 EST
While she had visited that night with Kitty and the others, he made his way into the inn.

He had been seen only every once in a great while, but with armor worn, sometimes a great ax carried, and often speaking with others or merely in their company.. s'jira had never spoken with the one so many others knew far better than she likely ever would.

Lucius was what he was called, she had been told by Kitty. Though he seemed known by so many and greeted by just as many or more, for long she had never seen him in favored company. But Kitty found it out for her, that his wife was busy. S'jira knew this well of self and Panther and eased in her worry for anyone that might be so much to themselves when around so many people.

In the night that followed, another was met who was more accustomed to the Island where the sun never fully set. Gods knew that merely thinking of the only time she had ever dared to travel there had left her queasy and extremely hesitant to to attempt a return. But he was found to be good company though an impish sort called the man names and pulled at his cheeks!

S'jira laughed quietly to self to think of the last couple of days... and another stitch was completed on the garment.

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-28 22:08 EST
In the time when Panther had been gone from her for years, there had been a..presence that had visited more than a handful of times. She had convinced herself that it had not been real, that it had been madness brought on by the great, steep grief of Panther's absence.

Even in that present day, if her mind slipped to remember the one who seemed to speak within her mind and soul, it caused her small form to shiver. But it had not been daytime when she thought of the one that talked with her, consoled her, rebuked her and more. It was within the depths of slumber when she recalled it all. She remembered being somewhere between happy to have someone to speak with and afraid that is was naught but pure madness.

The nightmare took her gently at first, sought a way through the meadow near the cottage until she found herself standing beside the stream that ran strong and clean not far from her home. It was the start of a very pleasant dream. But it broke, fragmenting abruptly and violently. Had she not just been standing upon the shore, watching the cool waters rush over the rocks? Suddenly, she found herself face-down and trying to scream but couldn't. Air forced from her lungs and her screams were nothing violent bubbles surfacing rapidly about her head.

About the time she thought she might die, by whatever ...s'jira jerked awake and cried out into the darkness of the room. She was at the Red Dragon, in the rooms she and Panther kept. A pelt on the bed where her hand passed against it told her as much.

Touch passed aside further, seeking Panther and found the bed empty. Still too weakened by the violence of the imagery, she remained right where she was, collapsing back into the bed. With a weary effort, she gave into a turn, slowly onto her right side. Her face pressed into the pillow that muffle the sounds that came next as she wept...

Surely matters would lighten with the dawning of the next day.

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-29 13:33 EST
When the sun's rays were still grey on the horizon, barely a waking of a new day, 'jira was already up and dressed.

A head ached and heart weighed but the promise of the dawning day was enough to lighten her soul. The dress was simple and light in material, favoring the spring's colors with its pallid, creamy white. A short, leather vest was slipped on and the criss-crossing strands were drawn taut.

She spent a look towards sandals and boots that had been untouched since fall and winter months. As she passed the dresser and trunk, she paused to look to the image in the glass that. Her hair was long and in feathered layers to the length of the small of her back, brushing at the swells of her hips. Hands pushed it back, running fingerstips through those lengths to rid them of tangles. Touch alighted to the single, white lock that streamed down from the area near her right temple.

Then gave into a turn, pulled the door open and hurried out of the rooms to move down the stairs and out of the inn's main door. The small one was headed for the livery to get Trygg. It was the perfect day to spend riding in the southern glen..

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-30 02:10 EST
Along the lake's bank, she lay beneath the ancient and huge white oak. Its shade outcast in all directions in a pleasant spread for the small woman. There she had met with a few in her time within RhyDin. Even the man who had tried his hand with catching fish with her and how terribly embarrassing that had proved. And fun.

Here, the four-winged creatures lived, though she rarely had the chance to see them. They were tiny and very much like fairies but as far as 'jira could tell they did not wear clothing, they did not speak to her or others, but they sang in such a way that it brought on dreams to any who had the rare opportunity to be that near them. As she lay back on the lush, dark green grass, eyes slid closed to listen to the breeze rush through the great boughs overhead.

Trygg could be heard somewhere in the glen roaming and grazing on the grasses. It was often a favorite spot for her and the horse Panther had gifted her with. There they would be for hours more, enough for the small one from Llothgar to peacefully slumber in the ancient tree's shadow.

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-30 05:05 EST
The caravan was still there within the borders of the infamous place called RhyDin.

Even for these lands, where beauty was to be expected of every female and handsomeness and strength of every male...where riches were never in short supply for most...where magic was first-nature in far too many...the caravan was enough to bring pause.

S'jira knew it well enough and hers was a far simpler and humbler path. Two moons were in the grand sky and on the edge of that night winds has started to blow, bringing with it clouds that would eventually blot out dual nocturnal light.

But for now, it was more than enough for the small woman from the wilds of Llothgar to pick her way through the winding, and at times busy, cobblestone streets of an ever-growing metropolis. Her dull and earth-toned dresses so often worn had been changed for one she rarely wore. Silks were worn that night of yellow and blue that were edged in black. They were given to her by Althrae, the gem of the caravan.
That gem knew that for all of 'jira's quiet...there was a torrent of passion that ran strong and deep beneath the calm and muted surface. A fact few knew first-hand.

The outfit was made up of vibrant, triangular layers in two main pieces: a halter of a top and a hip-borne skirt. Bells laced the entire circumference of the band that set snug and low about the swell of her hips. More bells were wrapped about her wrists and one to her right ankle. Her hair was worn down and long enough to reach the small of her back in torrent layers, interrupted occasionally by locks that had been braided two strands of hair woven in with a slender band of leather.

Already she was late to have put on so much of that outfit, most unaccustomed to tending to self that much atall in the last handful of years or so. Not since the days of being with Master Kiroth did she prepare self in such detail. But there was a performance that night. A promise had been made to her firm, forthright but endearing friend, Althrae.

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-30 05:05 EST
The caravan was still there within the borders of the infamous place called RhyDin.

Even for these lands, where beauty was to be expected of every female and handsomeness and strength of every male...where riches were never in short supply for most...where magic was first-nature in far too many...the caravan was enough to bring pause.

S'jira knew it well enough and hers was a far simpler and humbler path. Two moons were in the grand sky and on the edge of that night winds has started to blow, bringing with it clouds that would eventually blot out dual nocturnal light.

But for now, it was more than enough for the small woman from the wilds of Llothgar to pick her way through the winding, and at times busy, cobblestone streets of an ever-growing metropolis. Her dull and earth-toned dresses so often worn had been changed for one she rarely wore. Silks were worn that night of yellow and blue that were edged in black. They were given to her by Althrae, the gem of the caravan.
That gem knew that for all of 'jira's quiet...there was a torrent of passion that ran strong and deep beneath the calm and muted surface. A fact few knew first-hand.

The outfit was made up of vibrant, triangular layers in two main pieces: a halter of a top and a hip-borne skirt. Bells laced the entire circumference of the band that set snug and low about the swell of her hips. More bells were wrapped about her wrists and one to her right ankle. Her hair was worn down and long enough to reach the small of her back in torrent layers, interrupted occasionally by locks that had been braided two strands of hair woven in with a slender band of leather.

Already she was late to have put on so much of that outfit, most unaccustomed to tending to self that much atall in the last handful of years or so. Not since the days of being with Master Kiroth did she prepare self in such detail. But there was a performance that night. A promise had been made to her firm, forthright but endearing friend, Althrae.

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-30 05:07 EST
Bare feet rushed over the cobblestones. She could feel the stones biting into the soles of her feet with haste. She was late and Althrae had a tongue that rivaled any Llothgarian's well-cared for dagger. Breath drew in when the next rushed need for it and tasted the hints of rain coming on the night air. It hadn't fallen yet and heart still hoped that there would be time enough for the performance.

? 'jira!? Althrae scolded her before either of them even saw each other. Born and raised in the ancient deserts of Zsaltahim, the ethereal woman was fuel to any wick, fiery and alive. Normally, to find out what she was, beyond the caravan, one had to be within great tents of a Sultan?s Harem- at its very heart. But the Gem had not been inside of a Sultan?s Harem or holding for several years now. She was a Chain Dancer, a silk wearer, and an enthraller of both men and women with such talents for dance -- if their heads and hearts are willing enough to be allured. Althrae claimed that only two had never been swayed by her dances: her mother and her father!

Along the spice and silk routes she traveled with that caravan. Though she was a woman of her own means, it was a gentle balance she created with drawing more attention to what they had to barter by the undulation of her hips. In trade, she traveled with the caravan under the protection of a tall, broad shouldered Moor by the name of Santarem. He was a man of great strength and knowledge of weapons with his sword pledged to the protection of the Chain Dancer. It is not his business who she danced for or what sort she might slip into the shadows with, as long as he kept her unharmed.

Althae?s appearance was a softly fleshed one. Milky skin enticed the eyes and the scent of her perfume drew the senses further. Her long, blond hair shown with every touch of light upon those locks and caused her to stand out starkly in the lands of blinding light and harsh heat.

Forest green eyes made the leaves upon the trees most envious were far too warm and inviting to many and cold to others. Richly colored silk garments of varying sorts were worn with specific cutting and style to bring to the surface lurid thoughts from their lucid layers. Fine, linked chains are sometimes worn like proverbial bonds and with the prettiness of jewelry. Those silks on her were single color: fire-red.

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-30 05:10 EST
S'jira cringed a little to see that Santarem was with Althrae, as he should have been but the expression on his face seemed to be ...strained, as if he had endured a good while of listening to Althrae's complaints. He was at least two head's height taller than either of the women there and looked fierce enough to drive away more problems with a mere look.

?A performance is not to be shirked, s'jira.? She put her hands on her alluring hips and rolled her shoulders to loosen them. ?You have me tense! How am I supposed to be bring in as much coins as in a man's pockets if I
am such a mess?!?

The smaller woman with darker flesh and much darker hair could only smile at Althrae who looked as if she had had a dozen attendants seeing to getting every strand of hair and every piece of silk in perfect place. ?Please forgive, Althrae.. bells...and braidings.. ?

?Tsk, tsk!? The blond woman made that quick sound with her tongue. ?Hurry on then! Already the drums beat!?

More than those instruments were playing. She heard symbols, flutes, drums, and a few others that she did not recognize. Before she could think, barely time to breathe, the two of them were rushing up onto a crude stage that had been build near the river's edge. Torches seemed to be everywhere and light the area well, sputtering dull beneath the upbeat and tribal sounds of the music being played.

Althrae threw a look at s'jira as they took to the stage before the pale-haired beauty stomped her right foot and her lithe arms swept upwards to slap palm against palm. S'jira counted to three and performed as the Gem's shadow for a few more movements. Then their hips lifted slow in counterbalance to the faster-paced melody, a lifted and fall..a sway of flesh and bone to give bells and silks life.

A heart was beating so heart and fast that she was certain that someone might have been able to hear it above the drums. S'jira swallowed it down, pushing the fear of performing and allowed the sounds of the instruments take a hold of her as if it were the wrapping about of strong and guiding arms. Her right hand abandoned her left hip and swept outwards as if to slowly call attention to the minstrels off to the far right side. Then a hop to her left foot, s'jira and Althrae smiled and spun about the balls of their bare feet ? silks flowing in vibrant colors that called and drew the attention of all watching.

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-30 05:12 EST
Fingerstips touched her left hip again, then near her bare midriff, upwards to her heart and alighted to her temple. Althrae smile and tossed her hair, sending a look 'jira's way to see where she was and how she was doing. The look the small one saw was not one of disappointment or disapproval so she laughed aloud and started to enjoy the time. Another hop and turn, the twirled in unison faster and faster until they see nothing of the crowd. Even the light of the torches' flames streamed with a ruddy, golden ribbon; blurred.

When the drums were hit with a harsh, resounding and final beat...both women dropped partly to the swell of their left hips, sides and that arm outstretched. They lay there as if fallen, smote by some unseen force or blade.. though they were breathing hard and smiling. A pleased uproar from the crowd as they erupted with shouts of adoration and applause. While they lay there a few more seconds, coins rained.

Althrae gracefully started to pull herself up from where she had 'fallen'. She drew her knee up to her chest and briefly wrapped a lithe around her silk covered knee and shin. It seemed in slow motion to watch the Gem gain her standing and take a bow, to smile out to her admirers. Then she waved at s'jira who was belatedly getting up from the platform to added applause.

Moments more passed while she stood slightly behind and of to the side of her fair haired friend. There was no true want for the adoration that was being dripped upon Althrae. She was happy that it had gone well, that she had not ruined her friend's chances at acquiring coin for her and the rest of the troupe of entertainers. Here and there, s'jira was pressed forward to meet a few that had seen them dancing. All served to gain more coin as well as to personally meet the two so that the word would spread to whomever those people in the crowd told. A good reputation always drew a better crowd upon return, so Althrae always
said.

?You have made her happy..? Santarem had come to stand not far from s'jira while they watched Althrae move naturally amongst the crowd as if she were a queen and these were her adoring subjects. His large hand rested loosely about the grip of a sword that hung at his side.

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-30 05:13 EST
?Truly?? Darkly colored eyes lifted up to the Gem's guardian, then spent attention back towards the thinning crowd. She could not help but to find a small smile to hear it. ?It does a heart good to hear this, Santarem.?

?Truly, s'jira.? His arms folded over his chest while he kept a close eye on all before them. He pulled in a breath. ?Rains come soon.? Murmured aside to her.

As if on cue, a droplet met her shoulder but did not come in a downpour.

?Santarem!? Althrae called out to him. She was in no danger, but it seemed to be her signal to him that she was more than done for the night and ready to go into her tent.

S'jira smiled to watch them sent the crowd off to their homes or elsewhere ? as long as it wasn't there where the caravan knew the weather was turning and they were ready to eat and retire for the night. Althrae reach out and wrapped 'jira up into her embrace, then pulled back to eye her with a smiling, though narrowed regard. ?You did well, 'jira. Very well!? A few gold coins were pressed into the Llothgarian woman's palm. ?Now, head for home before the rains come..or I'll be forced to have you sleep in Santarem's tent!? She laughed aloud, nudged the smaller woman off in the direction of the Red Dragon.

It had not lasted but half an hour's time, but it had been a wonderful thing to gather the courage enough to dance with Althrae. A lot of practice it had taken but it had been worth it. There might have been a chance to dance with her again in the near, or far, future. S'jira smiled and hummed the vibrant, tribal melody they had danced to. Here and there amongst the lights and shadows, she half-danced...simply happy with how the night had gone. A heart half-wished that someone she knew might have seen it. What a sight that might have been for them! The quiet, reclusive, shy woman she was...was dancing before a crowd!

The small one laughed aloud, soft and warm, at the mere thought of it that made her immediately nervous and elated. Bells singing and silks flowing, she hurried back in the direction of the Red Dragon inn even as she was starting to feel more rain drops fall and the wind starting to rise. The light of the moons were fading as the clouds were moving swiftly in. Surely it was to be a very good night!

Sjira

Date: 2015-05-30 13:06 EST
"Don't let it go.. you're held.. within this beating heart. Don't. Let. Go!"

The voice was unfamiliar to those ears but the warning was heard at a certain, loud level of earnest.

She felt the ground give way. There had been music, there had been song as well as dance. Then she was slipping. S'jira threw her hand upwards. Had there not been a hand there earlier? Now there was ash-gray bough above, barren of any hope to ever leaves on it. In the instant she saw it, it reminded her of a large arm without flesh, but merely bone...long-dead. It was too broad across to grab a hold of. She flailed to get a grip on and she fell completely.

No ground was beneath her anymore. Somewhere along the edge of a perpetual night, she heard her horse scream. For an animal to be driven to fear enough to scream was truly a horrible sound to shaken most to the very core of their being.

Her own voice caught in her throat, strangled there and unable to yell its release. A slipstream of hastened a tangling of thoughts that jumped about and disallowed her to think clearly. One fractured moment to the next, she was falling and then..found herself in ..puddle? Something not like that, something worse.

In the half-light of night that was trying to climb to dawn..one of her arms was grabbed at the bicep to be pulled back as she leaned forward. It seemed made of tar, but lacked the heat as it oozed and moved. It had moved to grab her! Terror her own, the blackness seeped around her waist to slide about her back and lift an arm-like thing from its depth to take her about the shoulder and finally grip about her throat.

The next brittle moment was one of her tearing awake and screaming. Sound had found its voice. In the bed in the rooms at the Red Dragon was where she woke with such a start. Twice in the same week of nightmare like she had never had before.

Hand her own flew from her naked chest above the swell of her breasts to her throat to find nothing there. "Augh!" Fear, frustration and relief were hers all at once. The bed was not where she wanted to be, amongst all of its bedding and emptiness.

The small one pushed, then pushed against the layers of covers and a pillow that had lost its way from the head of the bed to somewhere along its middle. Bare feet met the flooring nearby with a ginger tip of a big toe, then from toes to heels of her feet. Pulse rushed from a pounding heart, though her veins.

"Carry me close... I give you memories..."

She halted in the middle of the bedroom, quiet close to the posted foot of the bed. Hands pressed in against the side of her head. Knees bent and she fell to them. Naked form ease forward until her forehead kissed the flooring with any hint of passion. She mewed out a sound of torture the nightmare could still be heard.

Glad for the darkness of the room, posture failed and she felt to her side. A knee drew up against her stomach and chest and strove to breathe. It took quite a while before she thought that the dark dream's residue had finally slipped away.

In a pathetic curl of flesh and bone, the light of dawn was finally seeping in through the windows belonging to the rooms. In softly borne agony, she wept and pushed self up onto all fours, a little further to her feet and leaned in against a bed post.

Strained expression, weary and tremulous, she moved off towards the bathing room that was part of the area; adjoined. Muscle and bone ached. Steaming heat of a bath was something she was suddenly desperate for and kept that within her thinking, in her doing. There was no going back to sleep.

Visions were so dark that she did not dare. She blinked at the tears, light the candles throughout the bathing room while the hot water flowed into the bathing tub. Steam fogged the area pleasantly. To its heated depths, she poured scented oils. The little bottle was corked and put to one of the shelve. Lengths of her hair were pulled back and out of the way to drape over the side of the tub, keeping it from the sweet, oily hot water.

Better it was to scrub them from self, dress and see to starting work and help at the docks. There was work aplenty to distract the small one.

In leaning back.. eyes did not shut...but watched one of the candles. Thoughts turned to the dance of the night before...of how it had soothed her, how it had centered her in a way that gave her peace. A heart was glad that Althrae had insisted. It gave 'jra something to think of...something to grasp and keep a hold on when the world at times seemed more than a little off-kilter.

Half-lidded gaze upon the candle, the swell of her cheek met with the edge of the bathing tub.. and blinked away tears that insisted on welling up there in her eyes..proving to blur the dance of that flame..

Sjira

Date: 2015-06-01 20:40 EST
When the dark dreams came, there were days that followed that she did not feel like herself. She was drained; weary and worn. But there was always something to work and to help with. These allowed her to keep moving and find the tiniest of things to lift her spirits.

It was her way to be uplifted, even a little, by the smallest of things. One of them had happened that very day...on her way from the docks to the marketplace. The rains had left, but the puddles were everywhere... especially where there were kettle-sized holes in the roads. Carts were not usually what she watched for after such a rain. Most of the carts moved slower through the area with the winding roads that were very tight in their breadth while others were wide enough to have four carts pass one another and never risk wheels hitting.

She had been hurrying along and went to veer around one of them, remembering it from earlier, only to have a riding on one of the steel horses that had no legs but stranger, two wheels race past her at such a speed that all of the water and mud from it flew in s'jira's direction.

Altogether, it was a comical sight. Had any known her -- or not -- the briefest glance would have the onlooker thinking that were looking at a child that had been playing in a mud puddle. Short, slim, and in the dull brown dress she often wore to work in when at the docks, she even might have looked like one of the street urchins. Mud and water dripped from her hair and face was mottled with the muck of it.

A breath sputtered out and a hand stole over her face, trying to rid it of some of the water and grime. Perhaps she looked too much like one of those urchins, for suddenly, a mudball -- quite the opposite of a snowball, but just as effective -- was lobbed at her.

S'jira let out an eep of a sound and scattered a startled, curious look to the left...to find a few children there. Laughing at first. Then aghast that it wasn't another kid they had thrown the mud at to start that playful fight. Where the moment could have gone very wrong, the small Llothgarian woman shifted the slingsack of fruit and more so that it rested against her back, then she eased down into a brief crouch. From the mud puddle that had left her dripping and dirty, she very slowly looked as if she might be trying hard to gather up some water to wash off some of the disaster. But instead, she sunk her little hand into water further and found what she'd hoped for: mud!

A good fistful of it -- still small since hands could not really hold all the much -- and she was armed. She swiftly sent it flying at the children. Shocked as they were pelted with the soft muck of the mud, then squealed to start that mud fight.

It lasted a while and all were ridiculous by the end of it all..and laughing. Surely it was a good start for anyone's evening!

Sjira

Date: 2015-06-02 21:11 EST
After a time within the city, the small one made her way from it for the day to see to her home.

Eyes had not seen Panther in a while, with much that kept him. And the gods were at play with offering so much purpose for her within the great, busy city of RhyDin until in and of itself proved a distraction.

The small woman sat upon the large, black horse while she stood within the yard of her home that lay within the woods, north of the city and before one might reach the mountain's range.

A spring breeze rushed by them and she leaned forward, in against equine neck and mane to enjoy the moment of sweet, fresh air before she tangled her small hands up into ebony horse hair to hold onto, then started to slip from Trygg's bare back. She had never truly needs a saddle with him, though in the winter months, it was far warmer for them both to have the hand-woven blanket across her horse's back.

She hung there for a very brief time before letting go and dropping to her bare feet beside a horse that seemed far too tall for so short a woman. Gentle was her hand that petted and soothed the beast beside her. He bent his head down so that she could remove the rope halter, so carefully yet deftly from its poll strap at the top to the lead loop at the bottom. Then s'jira pushed him away at the side of the horse's head to insist him to head off towards the far end of the meadow.

The meadow was a clearing, in part, with woods all about the area that was hers. The cottage stood of stone, mortar, and a thatch roof behind her while she watched Trygg wander off. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the brook that afforded plenty of fresh water for the drinking and where she had spent many a forlorn and happy moment over the time she had been there.

S'jira lifted her face skyward to watch the bluest of skies, even in comparison to the feral one in Llothgar. Then smiled to see the birds at play on the cross-winds above. Singing aloud, as none were there to hear it except for the horse, self, and the local animals, she headed off towards the cottage.

Sjira

Date: 2015-06-06 12:40 EST
The home was a very simple one, but strong and sturdy were its walls and solid was its foundation.
After Panther and she had been gone for so long, almost six months earlier? it had been so very, very long. Over a year? almost two?

S'jira shivered to have seen how timeslips worked. The small woman had heard of people 'losing time', but she had never experienced it for herself. In fact, even when the couple had been in the barbaric and vibrant lands of Llothgar, neither of them had felt the difference or noticed anything at all to alert them that the passage of time there was different. Had Thale, the fisherwoman, not told her many times about the people that had been lost to what the old woman had called slip-streams?

As she stood at the counter and washed the dirt from her hands, she spent a look out the window that faced the dooryard of the old woodcutter's cottage. Perhaps it had been that they had stayed too long? Had it happened like this before? 'jira lowered her head a moment, pensively so, and glanced at her damp hands. It had happened. When she had gone for a visit and lost Kruger due to being gone too long.

The thought pained her and another shiver moved along the course of her spine. A heart ached to realized that if she went back to her homelands again, that she risked loosing months and years within the lands of RhyDin. And that heart was learning from it.

Suddenly, she laughed, presented with Trygg's nostrils soft and snuffling against the side of the window she was looking out of. The small woman shook her head at the horse trying to push his head inside to get to her.

?come? come!? S'jira laughed aloud and set the towelling cloth down neatly to the counter's top. Her short, brown leather dress was met with now dry touch. Bare feet padded lightly against the flooring of the open room that served as both a kitchen and living area. When her hand met the handling of the door, she pulled it open and stepped out of doors.

The door was beautiful, full of warmth and light. And there was a friend who wanted to run the meadow and walk the miles of woods with her.

Sjira

Date: 2015-06-06 14:51 EST
Freedom. Of mind, body, and soul. As steep a series of thoughts that might cause for others, for s'jira riding Trygg was simply just that. Freedom to all things that were the small woman.

The horse had been let to run full through the large meadow. As he sought out the water of the nearby stream that she could easily hear on the gentle, quiet day, she eased forward against the back of his equine neck. Her face was buried into that long, thick black mane. And her eyes that were as dark as the animal that carried her slid shut contently.

There was between her and him a steep trust. Eyes did not open as he brought her to the water's edge. She was aware that Trygg had stopped and movement of his neck told her that he lowered his head for a drink. She could hear the waters rushing by before and a bit below, but loosely her arms held to either side of his neck and lay at his back without saddle or blanket amongst the shade that a great many tree branches about and above them cast; shielding them from the direct light and heat of the day.

In those moments, the harshness of the dark dreams that had plagued her lately and missing Panther did not touch her so acutely. She relaxed and smiled while eyes stayed closed. The wind found them and rushed around and over them in a sweet passing. It played with the leaves and branches, even her hair and Trygg's mane and tail.

How she smiled to finally open her eyes slowly and pushed self up to fully sitting upon the back of her horse. Her head tipped back and face lifted to passed attention along the organic canopy. As Trygg's head lifted too, she urged him off to the side and back up the slight incline to wander elsewhere and enjoy the day.

Sjira

Date: 2015-06-07 13:50 EST
Horse and rider rode, wandering pleasantly throughout most of that day. But as it was at this time of the season, the rains came swiftly and without warning.

They hurried home and she got Trygg into the barn where the straw was fresh. After seeing that he had food and water, and wiped him down to rid him from the touch of the rains, s'jira stopped in the door's way of that place of shelter that was for her horse.

The rains poured just beyond the broad door of the barn, without an immediately hint of easing up. Bare foot was first out the door as she sprinted across the muddy dooryard that lay between barn and home.

She rushed inside, pushing the door open. The banging about had not been meant, though the door clattered against the wall directly behind it. It was pushed closed against the rains spattering over the threshold and to the flooring of her home. When it was closed, she leaned against.

Water rain down her face. Dark brown hair looked black when it was wet, as it was. Thin locks of it stuck from moisture against her cheeks and neck and dripped from its ends.

As no one was there and there was a need to see to it, she peeled the short, brown drew from her form and draped it over the back of a chair in the portion of that open room, more where she use it as a kitchen. One of the towelling cloths was snatched from its hook and used dry self as much as something that small could. The air would do the rest.

Bare of everything, save for the necklace with the two pendants (cat's eye and starburst). A Llothgar song, one of the men on hunt, was sung while she set about straightening and cleaning after putting some meat into a large, wooden basin to soak up some spices. There would be need to make something to eat in the next few hours. And so while she waited, that cleaning was done and the flesh was allowed to dry well without cloth or else to it..and no offense to the sense as she was very much out of others' ways and sight while she was there.

Sjira

Date: 2015-06-07 14:05 EST
The night had been a most unexpected one.

S'jira was still thinking about it as she sat upon the flooring before the smaller hearth within the rooms at the inn. At times, going home was too dark a thing when it was a path travelled alone.

The sleeveless, white light-linen garment was like the white silks some of the bond-chain were seen to wear. But it was a simple shift she wore at times when it was time to seek sleep. She had pulled a few of the pelts from the posted bed and had settled down on it to rest.

There were more than a few times current and past that there, as she was, simply was how and who the small woman was within her very heart and soul. Most could not see beyond the one that mended, or helped with the work at the docks. But there was far more to her. Those who had taken the time to draw from her what she usually kept so very much to self..they knew her very well.

The lord had been at the inn again. She had seen him scantly over the years she had been within RhyDin. This time, she saw that he served others drinks, but not a single one this night had seen to his needs for such a thing. S'jira had watched a long while, hoping that this would not be the matter. Again. But as darkly colored eyes watched, a heart weighed. Simple gaze and simple ways saw what some either couldn't...or altogether ignored. A drink had been brought, after a while of gathering that courage to bring him something for a second time within a week's span. Though it had been said he had a wife, and that her very soul kept expecting a girl or two at his feet...in the shadows somewhere and ready to serve him...none were there. It seemed terribly wrong for her not to and so she brought, by her hand, a tankard of ale. Not a touch, not a sound from her. And a heart lightened to know that it was well-received when he thanked her for it. Only one things was voiced to him and that was her name, when he called her a lady again. That word felt as wrong to her as him not having any to serve him.

How could the others not see it so clearly? It had done her a lot of good to have served him in that moment and for him to have received it. Though there was something that hinted that he was a man no easily surprised. Had she overstepped with the offer of the drink? A heart simply did not know.

Sjira

Date: 2015-06-07 14:13 EST
And when she moved to retreat, to turn and head back up the stairs, she saw Tassleofl! Even as she sat there on the flooring, she eased down to rest against the animal pelts. Her arm curled and gathered up an edge and corner of it. Sleep was wooing her. Gaze was on the fire's play within the little hearth.

Tasslehofl had not been seen in so very long, though Kitty had a few times lately. She remembered hugging him, where so very, very few others were even touched. Kitty was one she hugged well too. The small one had been so very happy to see him that she had rushed to him.

And happy. Had he not seemed happy? Until she was foolish enough to have asked him where Kitty was. Her heart ached to know that she was responsible for stealing away his smile to ask where Kitty was.

She had no known! Perhaps it had happened very recent. Kitty had not even whispered a word. But then, s'jira knew so very little many times. There was much that had never been told to her. Much that even her lips had held quiet, lest it be a mere buzzing of an irritating insect to the ears of others.

S'jira lay mostly on her side and in part on her stomach in the half-shadows of the room. She would dance for Tasslehofl. She had promised it so that she could help him find that smile again. He was as dear to her as Kitty was. And over this, she felt wretched.

In quiet, she hoped for Panther's return, mourned Tasslehofl and Kitty's frayed or broken bond, and eased to know that Lucius had not sent her away for trying to bring him the two drinks.

She did not know how to fix matters, but there was need to try in whatever way she knew and could.

As she thought of Alphrae, silks, and dancing... sleep was there and holding her gently for the rest of the night.