The hush that fell over this garden made it seem that much more peaceful. In the pre-winter stillness, Indira lowered her bipedal form to rest on a bench. She felt as though she had been transported to an entirely new place. Even though as a new Ichikan she was still getting used to navigating her way through the peaceful group’s claimed territories, she still felt like she had never been to a place quite like this garden. The silence did not suffocate her. In fact, it seemed to give her the freedom to breathe peacefully. She did not feel as though she had to rush her, or like she had to leave in any great hurry. She wondered what this place was called. She had been here for a little over a week, but she still had to carry out her initiation task, and she had spent most of her time by herself as she figured out the lay of the land.
Right now she was as Dai-In. The rank did not hold any special emphasis, but she was glad to belong to Ichika. The differences between this group and the one she had grown up as part of were already starkly apparent. Although members of the Clan were known to work together from time to time, they never really converged in order to accomplish something for the greater good of one another. It was more of a bartering of services if they were ever to combine their efforts.
Here in the garden, it was so apparent that the Ichikans cared very much for their home. The effort showed in the neatly kept line of trees that walled in this little garden sanctuary, and in the care that was preserving the few blooms left before the icy breath of winter. The medium gray girl swept her pale blue gaze across the tranquil landscape and knew quiet, and peace.
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Pripyat had truly settled into the Abbey. For months he and Arye had scoured Ichika, looking for the perfect home. Once he had thought he found it, but by then it had not mattered. After taking up Eika it seemed only natural he would spend more time at Gampo Abbey. It was there he stored his seasoned wood, for the ritualistic bonfires, for family meals when the Ichikans cared for them, and for his own personal use. And it was here he could seek silence within the walls of the temple, and without in the gardens kept neat and tidy by the other Abbey residents. And so he had claimed for himself one of the small rooms of the lodging area, content within the bare walls with no possessions. A home of his own, or even possessions aside from his flint and other fire making tools now seemed frivolous.
That the smoke colored man spent so much time at the Abbey it was no surprising it was often he who would come across those that came to visit. Sometimes they came for the Reiseki's consul, or simply for some peace themselves, and often just because they were passing through. Pripyat would often leave them alone, for their business had little to do with his, and he kept busy enough gathering wood, scouting the borders and doing the tasks of ranks that were yet unfilled in Ichika. So when he was coming home and found yet another Ichikan in the gardens he almost passed by her and on into the Abbey, and yet he paused long enough to truly study her face.
It was a look he would sometimes see in the others of the Herald class and less often in the faces of the others, but he was always envious. Only when he was deep in trance in front of a flame did he perhaps have such a peaceful expression, but even then he was not sure. Demons and ghosts sometimes would come to him in such states and it was not often with tranquility he met with these specters. That he had been standing and staring for some time before he was again aware of his actions caused his ears to fall back in embarrassment, and surely by now the woman had noticed his gaze. So simply he clasped his hands in front of him and bowed low, his voice rough and stony and no longer awkward as it had been in his youth. "Namaste sister." And that was enough, because that was all that was required of him to another Ichikan, unless that Ichikan asked for more.
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Indira appreciated the fact that the garden was walled in by trees. It made her feel as though she had claimed her own peaceful slice of the world, although she knew that she would never truly be alone here. This exquisite place was obviously a shared space, and she did not mind that. She would share this sense of tranquility as easily as she would share her thoughts with another, if they were to speak with her or to ask her. Her pale blue eyes flicked up to see a man, almost like a smoke-colored shadow for all the sound he made, cross the garden.
She noticed that the smoke colored wolf watched her, so she took the opportunity to do the same. His coloring was mostly even, whereas her own pelt appeared gray, but only due to patches of tawny tans and timber markings blending together. His eyes were blue, like hers, but were a deeper shade, almost oceanic in their color. He did have one striking feature: a scar almost bisecting his face, slashing almost viciously down across his eye. He wondered how that had happened. Could he see? She had met another wolf, Nikki, and he had had one white eye – Indira had assumed that he was blind, but she hadn’t asked.
And finally he spoke, with a sort of bow. Indira had never seen such a gesture before, and again he spoke with the foreign language that Indira was beginning to associate with her new pack. Namaste? That must be his name. ”Hello, Namaste. I’m Indira,” she said, ducking her head to imitate his bow of greeting. She raised her head after a short moment and gestured beside her to the empty half of the bench where she was seated. ”Do you have time to sit for a while?” she asked.
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The lady imitated his bow but mistook his words for a title. The near reaction of Pripyat was one that had been lost to him the past few moon cycles. Nearly two months has elapsed since the smoke of the fire Pripyat had set took Arye up into the heaves and away from him. Since then nothing had tickled his funny bone, because quite simply life was not funny. Life was full of false happiness, and Pripyat knew he should have realized this before. Knew he should have been on guard when his mother had run away from his father and him. Should have seen the truth in the defeated face of his father as he handed Phoenix Valley over to a strange man with the perpetual cloud of smoke engulfing him. Yet Arye had blinded him to all that.
Arye had place a blind fold upon his eyes, unscarred then, and he had happily followed her along. And he had been happy. And he had laughed, mostly when he was alone with her but also with the others. He had not laughed in more than two months now, and even the thin smile that spread on his lips as Indira mistook the customary greeting for his name could hardly be called a laugh. At least it was there, for a moment. Before he spoke the amusement had vanished just as soon as it had sprang up and Pripyat shook his head, his stony voice speaking matter-of-fact manner. "No. I am Pripyat. Pripyat Soul."
And then, because she had asked him to the man moved beside her, filling the empty space she indicated with himself. It was strange, to sit beside another in such a manner when he preferred to be wandering by himself and the grey and white body of the boy was stiff as he turned to her, glad to have at least something to speak of to the woman who was quite obviously new to the clan. "Namaste is our greeting in Ichika. It means, 'I acknowledge that which is within you.'" Or that which is divine within you, but Pripyat felt his definition sufficient. The boy wondered how many Ichikans knew the meaning of their words, and how many simply recited what they heard the others say. Staring at Indira he decided it did not matter, and waited for the lady to take control of the conversation.
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