(--)
Machidael is by me!
Opium -- Machidael nodded vigorously. That was what it was called. Opium, he repeated, the word more garbled on his tongue than it had been on Amaury's. He had enjoyed that sleepy calm -- it was very similar to this dagga, although more potent by several degrees of magnitude, in Machidael's estimation. Find flower, he suggested. Find here. Grow... all places. He'd seen fields of the stuff overseas -- why wouldn't it be the same here?
His red eyes considered the man as he inquired on a camping spot. Amaury was unlikely to know the warehouse woman, but even so. The rusty-furred hybrid shrugged and gestured helplessly, making like he could not express in terms where he was staying. You here? he asked, pondering whether this was a permanent location or just a temporary resting spot for the piebald canine. Perhaps he could return in the night and steal more of the dagga -- then again, if he was caught, it'd require killing Amaury, and Machidael didn't want to go so far as that. The African had shown him kindness, and though they shared no species, the russet jackal thought of them as kinsman of sorts all the same.
Good, Machi agreed, tapping his skull and grinning a gold-toothed smile. Head good now. It was true, too -- he was calm and he felt quite good, better than he had in some time, in fact. Sebante was far from his mind, and he was actually enjoying the conversation, though perhaps that was a side effect of the dagga. No family? Fa here, all time. Ma from Al-Iskandariyya, he said, pausing as he remembered the word. Alexandria. Africa. He was glad to have these new words to express where he was from.
Ma here. Ah... ma-child here, he added, not knowing the words for brother and sister nor how to express they and his mother had come here years before. Al-Iskandariyya... want not me. No Fa, he said, grimacing even now with the thought of his mother's cult and the shunning he'd received -- all for lack of a father. He might have proved himself worthy, if only he'd been granted that small chance. Fuck off, say me. He made a rude gesture at his crotch and grinned to let Amaury know just what he thought of Al-Iskandariyya and his mother's moon cult. That, at least, was not nubilous as his speech.
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