09-12-2011, 06:09 PM
Sorry, forgot to date it - fixed now!
#364
Foxgove recognised him but Anu did not. Dawali knew her by elimination; a Crimson Dreams leader had been caught, and this was not Savina. He did not know the third one, however. No doubt, though, Anu knew him by name. It was a relief, somehow, that she did not understand who he was. He held his breath as he looked at Foxglove, awkward, praying silently she would not name him. The shame in coming here, the shame in his mission, was braided with the euphoria of seeing his hands again, and to be allowed to work medicine. It was only tonight, no doubt. Maska saw fit to use him only when needed. Relief flooded him as Foxglove simply greeted him, and he lowered his head obediently, as an Itawamba ought to. It was a strange thing, that his rank was below even that of prisoners, but Dawali would not have been able to appear dominant to the females regardless. For that, he was too shameful. Perhaps only if he had been watched, but the Guardian was posted outside the door. "Evening, Foxglove." he mumbled meekly, looking away. There was hoping she would keep his identity a secret.
They had been rough with the leader, but Foxglove was faring better. Their bruises were not so bad, but he worried about the gashes on the Dreamer. "Anu, tell me about your injuries," he asked. Turning while listening for her answer, he placed his satchels on the ground and began to unpack his items and tools - some of which no doubt looked more frightening than reassuring. With his back to them but ears pointed, trusting in the Guardians' knots and that the prisoners would trust him, he found his clay bowls and his skin of hot, pre-boiled tea. He poured three bowls and gave one to them each, but said nothing. Unpacking, he had rought along anything he could think of. Two skins of various wound-dressings ready to use, and fresh bandages and ointments. He had not known what they might need, but he saw they did not need the knife, and he let it lie on the ground without lighting ember to heat it over.
#364
Foxgove recognised him but Anu did not. Dawali knew her by elimination; a Crimson Dreams leader had been caught, and this was not Savina. He did not know the third one, however. No doubt, though, Anu knew him by name. It was a relief, somehow, that she did not understand who he was. He held his breath as he looked at Foxglove, awkward, praying silently she would not name him. The shame in coming here, the shame in his mission, was braided with the euphoria of seeing his hands again, and to be allowed to work medicine. It was only tonight, no doubt. Maska saw fit to use him only when needed. Relief flooded him as Foxglove simply greeted him, and he lowered his head obediently, as an Itawamba ought to. It was a strange thing, that his rank was below even that of prisoners, but Dawali would not have been able to appear dominant to the females regardless. For that, he was too shameful. Perhaps only if he had been watched, but the Guardian was posted outside the door. "Evening, Foxglove." he mumbled meekly, looking away. There was hoping she would keep his identity a secret.
They had been rough with the leader, but Foxglove was faring better. Their bruises were not so bad, but he worried about the gashes on the Dreamer. "Anu, tell me about your injuries," he asked. Turning while listening for her answer, he placed his satchels on the ground and began to unpack his items and tools - some of which no doubt looked more frightening than reassuring. With his back to them but ears pointed, trusting in the Guardians' knots and that the prisoners would trust him, he found his clay bowls and his skin of hot, pre-boiled tea. He poured three bowls and gave one to them each, but said nothing. Unpacking, he had rought along anything he could think of. Two skins of various wound-dressings ready to use, and fresh bandages and ointments. He had not known what they might need, but he saw they did not need the knife, and he let it lie on the ground without lighting ember to heat it over.