Daylight Dancer

[Cearia Tserta]

OOC - this is an open thread so please join if you like :)


Many blessings had been bestowed to the people of the Undead Fires - united by the common goal of survival, the clan had prospered with perseverance as the favored chosen of the gods. They were slowly thriving as a people - bellies were no longer hungry, some were even large with child. Livestock slowly grew in number as more verne were herded, Beast Riders continued to train rancors - bonding together and rotating as part of the sentries that guarded the sacred lands of the clan.

All of that devoted work allowed the few children that survived to play.

"Daca no fair! I got you!" Jadis, all of seven rotations, puffed out her chest defiantly towards her companion with a sword, a branch with twine holding the hilt together. She wiped at her face, which was no longer gaunt from lack of food. "I felt it hit you!"

Daca was two rotations older and had a considerable height advantaged for her age. She shrugged with disagreement, awkwardly trying to twirl her spear, its tip made from rough bark to not elicit any real damage.

She ended up loosening her grip on the pole, the end bopping the top of her head. "Ow!"

Her face coiled together in pain, rubbing the throbbing that started. Another bruise to explain to the sisters watching over the orphans while Jadis laughed. The majority of the children's parents had died during the great cataclysm. Jadis and Daca were not the exception.

Sharp whistling caught both girls attention and looked up to see a smug Lantess firing off pretend arrows at them. "Ah ha! Got you both!!"

Both girls glared at the night boy, displeasure lining their smudged faces that he got the jump on them. Their little bodies stiffened before they looked to one another. Unspoken understanding passed between the young ones.

Lantess knew exactly what those looks meant. "Uh oh!"

Tiny as their voices may be, Daca and Jadis cried out, trying to mimic the ones used among the hunters. Their attempt sounded like a dying bolma, but they charged at him, weapons raised high.

The three of them ran wildly through the encampment, dodging adults and weaving around large legs - Lantess laughing as the girls jeered with promises of capturing their prey. To gain some distance from them he vaulted over a wagon, knocking over a line of salted burra fish. Exasperated mutterings of displeasure slowly disappeared behind them as the trio raced further away.

"SORRY!" was all they offered to appease the older night sister.

As the ground began to incline the closer they moved towards the caves, it made it harder for little legs to climb the slope. This challenge would not deter the girls for they would never admit defeat to a little night boy. With huffs and puffs they ascended, wanting to get a better vantage over him with the high ground but were surprised to see Lantess hiding among the bushes, happy to see them.

He pressed his finger to his lips and with the other, pointed towards a woman (https://scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com/vp/9fb958af54d767c071b9aa473fc71949/5D90B6C9/t51.2885-15/e35/61841187_123935655486842_7603130969581530417_n.jpg ?_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com) that was well known to this trio. Cearia, lead hunter for the clan and bound to Mother Anjali, never wanted to play with them. Everyone else in the clan would participate - either to teach or play - bringing some joy that elicited fond memories when the clans were full of children. Regardless of how the clans differed in raising them, they cared deeply for the next generation that would uphold the values of their people.

Now these three were the future of the Undead Fires and they were the children to all.

They were also constantly disappointed that one of the night sisters who had so much to teach, ignored them every ... single ... time.

Lantess waved them down, wanting his friends to join him. Daca and Jadis slowly crept down and smooshed against him as there wasn't enough cover. Huddled together, they watched Sister Cearia converse with a night brother.

"Why even try?" Jadis asked. "She never wants to play."

Lantess shrugged. "So?"

"So? Let's go. She's no fun," she pouted, as that should be enough to end the conversation.

"Bah. This will work."

"You said that last time," countered Daca. "And she ignored you."

"She kicked dirt at me."

"Which just happened as she walked by!"

"Shh!" he hissed, then grinned brightly with confidence. "Trust me. This will work..."




Cearia was with Enjo, going over supply needs for the clan - food stores, water supplies, materials for clothing. It was through intense labors that the Undead Fires hunters allowed minds to be eased and focused on living and thriving - not worry where supplies would come from. The hunters came and went on long ventures to keep that stability. Thankfully the gods had blessed them with more verne and the breeding efforts were underway. This cycle of their mating season was almost over and she was concerned that nothing would come of it. She was mindful that even beasts had to acclimate to a new way of life, being scattered across a damaged land. The cataclysm was felt by every living thing and adjustments had to be endured by all.

"Keep me updated on the mating endeavors, Enjo. Hopefully the gods will have blessed us with success."

"By the grace of the gods, I hope so," agreed the night brother.

Enjo was also blessed by the gods. After incurring the Clan Mother's wrath several moons back for speaking out of turn, Cearia had argued on his behalf that his skills were needed with the herd. He had a way with the animals and she trusted him while she was away on hunting parties. Anjali had agreed, but her suspicions towards the night brother had only tempered partially after she had sensed his interest in Cearia back then was now extinguished since the two women took their oaths.

"Hm." Her response appeared to be for Enjo, and the night brother had thought it too, but it was really for the trio of troublemakers that were attempting to sneak up on Cearia. They moved along the grass like a pack of rancors, barely hiding their small bodies on the land. They had so much to learn.

"The hunting party will return soon. Take a small group to meet them and help break down the game. Bring water and fruit in welcome."

"As you command, Sister Cearia." Enjo bowed respectfully before taking his leave.

Cearia watched him go, acting unawares that another hunting party was about to attack.

"YAAAAA!"

"GRRAAAH!"

"AAEEIIII!"

Daca sprung into view from the bushes, brandishing her spear and jabbing it towards Cearia threateningly. Jadis jumped off the incline, slipping onto her rear, before scrambling back up. She swung her sword and bared her teeth. With a flourish, Lantess rolled along the ground, planting a knee and a boot to steady himself as he unleashed pretend arrow after pretend arrow at Cearia. Daca and Jadis were set with having fun, even as they knew the huntress was about to walk off and ignore them once again. Lantess still hoped differently.

Then the unthinkable happened. Cearia gasped, clutching her chest with a hand. Her eyes were widened, full of shock, as she tried to say something but her voice only crackled. Then ... she slumped to the ground and didn't move.

Jadis was stunned, body froze with disbelief. Lantess lowered his bow arm, unsure what just happened.

Daca was the first to say something. "WE KILLED HER!"

Lantess rolled his eyes. "We didn't kill her."

"How can you be sure?! She never plays! What if we scared her to death?!"

"Because it makes no sense. No one dies like that."

Daca crouched on all fours and shuffled along the ground closer to Cearia. She extended the spear and lightly poked Cearia's side, hoping to get some sort of response. Nothing happened.

"We're in so much trouble, Lantess! She's Mother Anjali's chosen!" Daca's voice was becoming shrill, panicked, as the reality of what was happening settled in.

Jadis stayed away for now, paled face as she watched the cave's entrance for the Clan Mother to arrive at any moment and hand down punishment for killing her mate.

"Ugh." Frustrated, Lantess shuffled closer too, looking long and hard at Cearia from boots to face with a stern expression but his eyes betrayed doubt.

"See!" Daca saw his face was just as concerned as hers. "She's not breathing!"

Lantess wanted to argue that she was wrong, but the huntress lay there as still as a log. Not once did her chest move.

"I ... I don't know. There has to be something that happened."

"Yes... we scared her to DEATH! YOU'RE NOT LISTEN - ..."

"GRAAAHHHHHGGGHHHH!"

Cearia suddenly shot up, arms and legs flailing, as she sent the lot of them into a screaming frenzy. Little legs and arms scrambled to get their bodies moving, completely taken aback that she fooled them ... and was laughing!

"Gotcha!" She grabbed onto Daca's leg, pulling her along the ground and into her arms. "Where do you think you're going?"

Daca blinked and saw nothing but amusement in Cearia's eyes. This confused her, but the two shared a smile.

"Your approach needs work. Stay low. Watch your footing. You must become the ground." Daca, wide eyed, nodded to what was said, excited she was getting advice.

Lantess and Jadis peered around a bush, then ducked down when the hunter's attention turned towards them. "You three will make a good hunting party someday if you heed my words."

"Really?" asked Daca, now sitting on Cearia's lap.

"Yes. I've always thought so. But you need to practice. More on being quiet. And hiding. Not so much with the jumping and running and yelling. Those things tend to scare the animals off."

All three of them laughed or chuckled, which coaxed Lantess and Jadis out of hiding. They gazed upon the huntress with new eyes, thrilled that all this time she had noticed them.

"May I see that?" Cearia asked, looking to Daca's spear.

She handed it over and watched the hunter tighten the wooden arrowhead that had come loose. "Here you go. All fixed."

Daca beamed as she took it back.

"Now go on. You three have others to terrorize," she said firmly, leaving no doubt the children had to disperse. She picked Daca up, helping her to her feet, watching as she rejoined her friends. They gave her one more look that was a mix of awe perplexity as to what happened here before running off, leaving the hunter to her memories as she sat there.

She was once like them - causing mischief and many a ruckus with the Red Hills Clan. Elders berated her for running through the trade areas, Wardens shoving her to the ground, forcing her to grow in strength until she was the one knocking them down in combat. With who she was now to the clan, it was her duty, and honor, to pass that along to the children.

[Kavan Siron]

The last week had been a blur to Kavan. The mere notion he was still alive, even though he felt he was run over by a platoon of heavy-armed enemy soldiers everyday, was mind-blowing given what had happened. He knew that if he didn't fight to stay alive and prove his worth, he would only ever be a slave. He wasn't even an official nightbrother yet, as far as he had understood. Tristan spoke Basic; and had been helpful but the former soldier had also quickly understood that learning by doing and surviving was the crucial part. He had been sent to work with some of them, doing menial but heavy tasks around the settlement.

He had slept outside, even in the rain and thunderstorm. He had been able to keep the clothes he had on his back when crashing on Dathomir - except his jacket. It had been on the spider witch's back since she had captured him. He had felt so angry about not having any of his weapons left, although he knew that it was part of the whole thing. He'd have to make do with what he could.

And he had.

In between tasks, even though he had understood that he wasn't to scamper of by himself, he had managed to start working on a spear. Survival had been something drilled into him at the academy, and it had come in handy during certain hell missions with his former comrades. It wasn't much and he hoped that maybe at some point the spider warrior would return his knife to him, but somehow he doubted it. He might have to make a new one. He had seen many witches and several night brothers have weapons.

As he was returning from transporting heavy logs from the edge of the woods to the caves, he caught sight of some of the children around one of the witches who soon scared them and then talked to them. Observing from afar, he recognized her as the leader's wife. While he hadn't properly attended the ceremony, he had watched from a distance.

When she suddenly looked into his direction, he averted his gaze. While not all witches seemed ready to kill him, most did. He knew that he belonged to the spider warrior. He didn't like the concept, but really, it was his saving grace, besides working his ass off to make a place for himself, and also learn the damn language. Hell, he still didn't know the name of his captor, for he had never been told, and asking her a directly had never seen a good idea, although he remembered her spider's name, Empusa.

[Spark Vallen]

Spark didn't speak the language, but the tone and gestures were clear enough. Now, he had to recover and clean the burra fish that the children had sent sailing when they'd come charging through. Already stressed, exhausted, and plauged by a constant headache in his new reality, now he had to deal with salted fish and find a way to clean and ensure they were still edible. Blue eyes glared in the direction of the trio with their insincere, "SORRY!"

Damn kids.

He sighed, then bent down and started gathering up the fish. The salt stung his cracked palms and he awkwardly gathered them against his chest. He sighed again, knowing that his tunic would reek of fish and brine now, and having the opportunity to clean that up was unlikely. Trying to hurry under the elder Nightsister's watchful eye, Spark cursed as the fish slid out of his grip. He ended up juggling several in the air while trying to keep them from falling again, his acrobatics and panicked expression drawing further attention and a brief audience. Face burning with embarrassment, as quick as he could, Vallen cleaned and resettled the fish, praying that the damned kids wouldn't come back through and ruin his work.

What I wouldn't give for a cuppa caf...

The Moo-Joo Express, a blue milk cargo hauler on which Spark was a crew member, had ended up at Dathomir when a mechanical failure yanked it out of hyperspace. He'd had no idea what had gone wrong, but only knew he'd thrown himself into an escape pod and had jettison mere seconds before the hauler had exploded. The pod made landfall and had caught the attention of the Clan of the Undead Fires, and Spark's worst nightmare had been realized: he'd been stranded on a world that had no stimcaf... and, he'd been co-opted into slavery as well. When the blue milk distributor learned what had happened to The Moo-Joo Express, Spark realized that it would be assumed he had perished with the rest of the crew; no one would come looking for the stocky blond Corellian on the planet's surface.

And so, here he was, juggling burra fish and trying to figure out how to survive in this hostile rancor-filled environment.

[Cearia Tserta]

The children were scampering through the settlement with joy! They felt touched by the gods that Sister Cearia played and taught them - offering praise that someday they could be hunters like her.

"See! I told you it'd work!" Lantess was smug, entirely convinced that it was his plan that stirred Cearia's compassionate side to finally acknowledge them.

Daca was too enamored with her spear to care about his ramblings. She was studying how the twine was wrapped around her spear tip, wondering how long it would take her to replicate it. That left Jadis to keep the night boy's head from swelling too large or fear it would cast him up into the heavens.

She didn't necessarily believe that to be a bad thing.

"She wanted to. Finally. Had nothing to do with your plan."

"Bah!" Lantess led the trio back the way they came, giddy to tell the other night boys his adventures today. No night girl was going to take the moment away from him, but he would not be reckless and rub his good fortune in Jadis' face. They may be all children, but Lantess knew his place here, even if night boys and girls could play with one another.

"Oh look!" Daca pointed to the tall, fair haired, man that wore strange clothing. He fell from the stars and now belonged to the clan. Some of the clanmembers had made armor and shields from the strange house he had landed in. "Sister Ibis is still barking at the skai man. He moves too slow."

All three of them watched him work, lugging line and wood as Ibis explained with grandiose and over the top gestures how the man should set up a smoke pit.

"I don't think he gets it," mused Jadis, watching the blonde man look blankly at the elder night sister. "Do skai people's brains work the same as ours?"

Lantess shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe? He looks kinda like the brothers. Tho his eyes seem ... dimmer despite being the color of the clear sky."

"Maybe we should bet how long it takes him to figure out he needs to dig a hole first?"

Immediately Lantess agreed. "I'm in."

"Me too!" squealed Daca.

"Winner does morning chores?" suggested Jadis. Depending on who won that meant the others had to do laundry, sew, or prepare skins for blankets.

"Deal!" shouted Lantess and Daca in agreement.


***


Cearia heeded how one of the skai men had watched her with the children. She knew the dark haired one belong to Khthonia. The night spider sister had taken this one from his wreckage, wearing his jacket in declaration of that claim. For now, like the other skai man, they worked as slaves until they proved they could walk among the night brothers and earn more noble tasks, perhaps being selected for breeding or even become mates.

She wondered how much longer he was going to just stand there holding the harness to the sled he was hauling. It wasn't going to fill itself with supplies, but it wasn't her concern. He would be punished if he dallied too long and ended up being late with his pick up. Cearia may have a different view on the night brothers and male slaves because of how she was raised with the Red Hills, but the hunter had no sympathy for laziness.

Pushing herself up off the ground, she dusted her pants and long coat clean, even prying a piece of mud that had caked on. The dark haired skai man had started walking by the time she was done but that wasn't why he caught the hunter's attention again.

"Hop op!" Her voice was sharp and held no malice. Quite certain he had heard that phrase dripping with animosity towards him many a time, she hoped he could tell that he wasn't in trouble.

She waited for him to stop and turn towards her before pointing to the spear strapped to his back. She could see that this weapon was created quickly out of need instead of skill. The wood had been hastily chiseled for the pole making it awkward to grip, unlike the one Daca had made which was carefully sanded down. The tip was just the end worked down to a barely usable point near the shaft. It was a crude weapon but one that had potential if it was cared for with a carver's touch.

"The Java ..." She worked her mouth trying to remember what little basic she had learned with the other night sisters. "Spear. You ... make?"

[Kavan Siron]

Kavan was about to go back to pick up the next bunch of logs he would transport inside the caves. Or whatever next task he would be assigned, really, what mattered was that he proved he could be useful. Truth be told he was hoping that he would have more time for himself to work on his spear and make it better than this rough beginner thing he had made so far. He could do much better, and he would have to improve it as soon as possible. He could hold his ground fairly well in close quarters and unarmed combat due to his past, but he'd rather have a decent weapon on him.

When the Huntress suddenly called after him, he stopped, curious that there was no sneer in her tone. That was quite a surprise given his interactions with other female members of the Clan. The station of the males had been obvious from start. He made sure to behave, as much as it annoyed him. He valued life more than his pride at this point. If he had to work from the bottom up, he would do it.

He hadn't expected her to point at his spear, and he hated that it looked so crude, especially in comparison to the children ones she had helped with just moments ago.

"Yes, Sister" he replied in one of the few words he had already learned from the language. And a "ma'am" was never far off when he had to address a woman around there.

"It will be..." He paused, gesturing in hope as much as in frustration.

"I can... better," he finally managed.

[Spark Vallen]

What did I ever do to deserve this reality? Spark thought once again.

For the longest time, he'd thought Ibis was suggesting he build his own shelter. But, even he knew that was impossible with what he had to work with. And, what sense did that make with the fish anyway?

Why couldn't we have been yanked out over Chandrila or Bakura? Why this backwater with no tech? This is inhumane.

Forgetting that it was a language barrier and that Ibis wasn't - in fact - deaf, Spark exclaimed, "Do I look like a fish monger? Why do you think I should know how to set this up? I hauled blue milk for a living! Blue milk! Do you think a cargo crewer knows how to do this frakking stuff?!"

Of course, she only became more theatrical and pushy in response. Spark sighed and re-arranged the poles once again, staring dumbly at the dirt that Ibis gestured at, well aware that the stanged kids were back and observing this theater of the fishy absurd.

[Cearia Tserta]

She was mildly impressed that the offworlder was making an effort in picking up their language. It was an essential skill he needed to acclimate himself into clan life as not all sisters knew basic. It wouldn't necessarily diminish how often he'd be yelled at by the nightsisters, but the male would at least be more tolerable to instruct. Cearia had seen the frustration with communication by her sisters - a lot of finger jabs and describing the slaves as imbeciles that a beast warden couldn't train was quite common. More so with the fair haired man.

"Kom op hir," She beckoned the man closer with quick flicks of curled fingers.

"Come here," she translated for his benefit and waited, at least knowing that phrase in basic.

Cearia was one of the more petite members of the clan but her presence exuded a confidence slowly built that had taken months to find. She had a long way to go but for now, she was grounded. The furs and leathers she constantly wore complimented her lithe frame, allowing the freedom to move quickly and quietly at a moments notice. Like many of the nightsisters, she was an imposing figure but based on her status as hunter and mate to the clan mother, her posture was just a little bit straighter. Yet the male would notice that her eyes were not as harsh or assuming - they were inviting.

[Daca Tserta]

"Bah!" Lantess threw down his bow in frustration at losing the bet. He'd have to wash and sew clothes in the morning along with Jadis.

Daca grinned at having a free morning, happy she went with her gut that despite how slow the skai man moved, he would soon catch onto the task. Within a few minutes of Ibis making digging motions, understanding light up his dim eyes. His hands clawed at the ground and soon there was a small pile of dirt next to him that was growing.

"Lucky. First get the Great Sister to sit with you. Now ... no chores in the morning," grumbled Jadis with an envious tone.

"We're all lucky. Sister Cearia noticed all of us," she pointed out but remained focused on watching the skai man. "She always noticed us. We didn't know until today."

"But she fixed your spear. You were favored."

"I was closer," she corrected. "And my spear was broken. Your weapons were fine."

"Hrmp." Jadis crossed her arms, not entirely convinced. It made Daca wonder why her friend was being so crossed. Sister Cearia didn't do anything extraordinary except be kind to her, to them, before showing her how to tie a knew knot.

"And you're missing the most important thing that happened!" Lantess broke in with frustration. "She told us we need to practice! Tomorrow after chores, we should. Practice."

Jadis reluctantly agreed and picked up his bow. "We should. Before midday lunch?"

"Meet at the verne enclosure?"

Daca nodded. "Just ... this time we need to be careful. Brother Enjo was not happy that we played too close to the gates. I don't want to chase after verne again. Or clean up poo!"

The debacle was innocent as Lantess dodged Daca's spear attack, but he lost his footing and fell against the gate. The force of it loosened a weakened latch. It flung open and the spooked verne made a mad dash to freedom. The clan mother was not happy and the three of them were on verne dropping cleaning for two days.

"No, no, no, no!" Lantess paled, hands shaking before him. "Just to meet. NO playing around."

The girls nodded and murmured their agreements before saying their farewells. Chores needed to be done with the families that were taking care of the children today. Clan members shared the responsibilities and today it was Sister Ibis' turn to watch Daca.

She trotted over to her and smiled. The elder was ecstatic to see her.

"Thank the gods you're back!" She said in a relieved huff. "The skai man's useless! I don't know why they gave him to me. Go and help him so we have fish to eat tonight."

"Of course, Sister Ibis!"

Ibis smiled for the first time today and ruffled Daca's hair. "Good girl. Thank you. Though ... Daca?"

"Yes?" The young nightchild heard a warning in the older sister's voice.

"Next time be careful running through here! You and your friends almost ruined dinner!"

She clenched her neck with embarrassment, remembering how Lantess came through knocking over the fish. "Yes, Sister Ibis. It won't happen again."

Hands on her hips, the older woman looked down upon her, unconvinced.

"Happen again too soon then ...?" Daca tried with a sweet voice.

"Oh get on with it," Ibis said with a curt chuckle and shooed her away.

Daca beamed and approached the pale haired man, spear secured to her back so she wasn't threatening. Scaring him would probably destroy what little good work he managed to accomplish.

She crouched before him on the other side of the hole he was still digging and smirked. "Hei."

[Kavan Siron]

Kavan knew his newfound place. While he hoped to improve it over time; having had had to adjust to military hierarchy in the past, as well as dealings with assorted criminals, had made him prone to be versatile and adaptable. He knew that women were superior around Dathomir; and while he understood that this woman was the leader's spouse, he also remembered who he belonged to until further notice.

He approached when told to, bowing his head as the huntress spoke to him in both the dialect and in Basic. The gesture was also easy to understand, which he appreciated.

He didn't expect to be treated well by many, if any, but he did what he could to show his good faith in learning the local ways. Really, anything he could learn was welcome. It might be painful and even humiliating; but really, he had gone through the soldier life first, and being alive was the most relevant to him.

Even though he was much taller than the huntress, the way she walked and stood spoke volumes of her position and her power. While he made sure to physically show respect, he didn't grovel before her. He stood close but not too close.

"Yes, gona?"

He didn't know the word "hunter," which he knew was what she did; but "warrior" was the best equivalent he knew in the dialect.

[Spark Vallen]

Don't they have any shovels? Or is this just another way of mocking me, doing this by hand?

He slowed, watching Sister Ibis with the female child; he saw her shooed in his direction. Spark wondered if she was having to do some form of contrition now for sending the fish sailing earlier. He was too new to the clan to have a sense for its customs and politics, especially where the kids were concerned.

Wiping his brow and unintentionally leaving a long, dark smudge of dirt there, Spark eyed the kid.

"Hey yourself," he replied, and continued digging.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia nodded curtly in acknowledgement at the respectful way he approached and kept his distance, green eyes finding his word choice curious. Either he believed her to be a warrior or it was the closest word he knew to describe her. She appreciated his effort more than many of the sisters here that may have taken offense.

"Nou, gona," she correctly gently and tapped her chest firmly. "A hompleier."

She brought her hand back as the other extended forward to mimic drawing a bowstring, then tugged at the fur that outlined her coat. A brow quirked towards the skai man to see if he understood.

[Daca Tserta]

Probably for he first time since being caught by the nightsisters, someone smiled at Spark. "Yu spek hei!"

Daca didn't hear the subtle nuance of the skai man's voice that differentiated hei and hey. The nightchild was fascinated and wondered if he could speak more of their language but that smear of dirt along his forehead was distracting.

"Yu don dir der," she said, pointing to his face.

[Kavan Siron]

He had been worried that she would hurt him or send him away at once, for he knew that the word he had used was unlikely to be the correct one.

He hid most of his surprise, but not all of it, when she corrected him without harshness. He couldn't really comprehend why she reacted as such. She was quite the exception. He didn't think it made her better than others, or lesser, just different.

Kavan nodded.

"Chof, Hompleier. Hunter."

He was glad to have another word to add to what he had been learning.

"Yu frag op for....dina."

He pointed his thumb towards himself. He used to be a gona for he was once a soldier and had kept fending for himself since then; but he knew that calling himself as such at the moment would only earn him trouble.

"Honon... Zafra."

He had learned the words for prisoner and slave fairly early on. He was okay with that though. It was surreal how he didn't see that so much as resignation as a way to show his worth and carve a space for himself, hopefully be allowed as more than a slave down the line, especially if he pleased the spider-riding witch who had found him.

[Spark Vallen]

Spark had endured all manner of what he expected were insults about his appearance, from his off-worlder look to the strangeness of his language skills. This kid's tone, however, sounded different, though he couldn't imagine what "Yu don dir der" meant as she pointed at his face.

"Oh yeah?" he replied with nonchalant ease, "yu don dir der too."

Spark grinned, waiting to see her reaction... and hoping it would clue him into what the frell she'd said!

[Cearia Tserta]

"Huhn-ter ..." The word came out choppy, each syllable spoken harsh to get the sound right.

"Hun-ter," Cearia tried again and nodded in satisfaction that the word from her lips was close to his. She decided that the sharp T made the word sound fierce, like her.

She nodded at what he said was correct, though his accent was atrocious. What mattered was his effort in learning. Not only did he speak the word in her language, but he was able to piece together a short sentence that explained what she did too.

"Sha," she replied in agreement to his use of the word prisoner. The last word was of her wife's dialect. It was most noticeably used when Enjo would leave Cearia's side after being dismissed to carry out orders and Anjali would join her. Though he never spoke out of turn again or showed overt interest in what could have been with the hunter, Anjali couldn't help comment on how lucky his tongue was still intact and that she didn't demote him to a zafra.

She had not joined her today but if she had, Cearia wondered what the Clan Mother would think of her wife conversing with a slave.

Cearia studied the way he carried himself - sturdy and ready to move by his stance - and had a lean frame that was built for endurance. His eyes were sharp and there was light within them, showing he was always thinking.

"Hofli nou feva," she said after sizing him up. "Not ... always."

She titled her head up with confidence and continued. "Yu laik a gona. Fou."

[Daca Tserta]

Daca looked taken aback by that and brought a hand up to check her face. She swiped both cheeks and rubbed her forehead with the back of a hand, perplexed that it was clean after inspecting it.

"Der's nou graun!" She picked up some from the pile he made and threw it at him. "Yu Branwoda Ai!"

[Kavan Siron]

Kavan kept his expression neutral as the hunter worked on the word in Basic he had just told her. He nodded his head when she pronounced it correctly. While it was not his place to say anything against the women of the Clan, he nevertheless wanted to mark how she had done it correctly. It seemed polite to do it, and really he was grateful that she took time to speak to him, instead of just scolding him, if not worse like hitting him or barking orders he only half comprehended.

He was also aware that his own pronunciation was likely horrendous. He did his best to learn as many new words as he could; but the way he said them was a far cry from what it should be. Truth be told, he mostly worked on it by himself, for a few he had tried to speak to considered that not only he should shut up as a slave; but that his butchering of the language was another reason to punish him.

Maybe he should have had a sour taste in his mouth when she agreed to his use of the word prisoner, when speaking about himself; but he didn't. And he was genuinely relieved he seemed to be remembering more correctly as every day passed by. It was tedious work, in a way more difficult than the physical tasks that were forced upon him. He wasn't sure how he was managing it; but he bet it had to do with his strong drive to rise above his current position in his new life. Dreaming of leaving Dathomir was a mere fantasy that would unlikely come to fruition. At least, it kept some of his enemies away for the unforeseen future.

He didn't really understand what she said next but tried to commit the words to his memory. He smiled and bowed his head when she gave a translation.

"Hofleeee no... nou. fe.. Hofli nou feavaah?"

He might be pushing his luck by trying to repeat to make sure he got it right; but he would learn quick enough if he angered her.

When she called him a warrior, he didn't understand all the bits of her sentence, but he nodded.

"Sha. Ai... fous. Soldier."

That was the best he could say to explain he used to be a soldier.

[Spark Vallen]

On his knees as they dug, he reared back to avoid the dirt storm that the girl hurled at him.

"Hey! What'd I say?"

He over-balanced and toppled backward, landing on his backside with a gasp. Spark frowned and dusted off his tunic.

"Better yet, what'd you say?"

Gods... this is impossible... he thought. And here, I thought we were getting along!

The Corellian thought about what had just happened, how she'd rubbed her forehead. Comprehension dawned on him as he checked his own brow, and then laughed.

"Oh! I had dirt on my forehead! Stang, why didn't ya just say so?" he laughed

He tugged at his grimy tunic up to wipe at his brow, exposing his torso in the process. Dropping it back into place, he at least knew how to say "no" in the local language and reiterated the earlier phrase.

"Nou don dir der!"

[Cearia Tserta]

Her brows knitted tightly together as she worked on a better translation for the skai man, realizing that for his benefit he needed specifics. "Not for-evah. I hope."

The statement was true. He didn't have to be an outsider forever and with his unique skills and knowledge, it could make the clan stronger. It should be encouraged that he learn more to become a brother while earning his keep - all under a watchful eye, of course. He was a stranger until he could be trusted and she had a feeling she wasn't wasting her time.

Cearia gave him a patient smile as he worked through the words. "You close. You practik."

As he shared more about himself, it made sense why he wanted to make a weapon, despite the spear needing great care. She motioned him to come closer, keeping her hand out. "Huk op Ai java. Give. Spear."

She wasn't going to take the weapon from him, only inspect it. Her gruff use of basic made her sound harsh but her stance was non-threatening despite the confidence exuded. She was in complete control of this encounter.

[Daca Tserta]

Daca was beginning to understand why this skai man was making Sister Ibis upset. He wouldn't stop spouting gibberish and was clumsy. How could he fall so hard on his rear from simple dirt flung at him, even if it caught him by surprise...

Then the fool began to laugh which only made the nightgirl frown until he explained himself in her language. Her nose curled with frustration as she tried to understand what happened.

"Den chomouda yu don biyo Ai don dula?" she muttered to herself more than for his benefit because he obviously didn't grasp their language.

"Oh!" Realization came and she nodded to him. "You ... biyo. Say ... chit Ai biyo. Say ..."

Frustrated that she didn't know enough words, Daca thumped at her chest, shook her head, and returned to digging, unsure how to communicate well with the skai man.

[Kavan Siron]

Kavan nodded, appreciating the witch's more detailed translation, and her well wishes. Really he was baffled by her behavior; but kept that to himself. And he was certainly not going to waste an opportunity to learn more about the ways of the Clan, or about the language. Everything he could glean could make him more useful to them, thus extending his life and hopefully raising his status at some point.

"Chof, hompleier," he replied.

He was definitely keen on practicing the language, for he really needed to master it down the line, and if he didn't speak it, he couldn't improve. It had been worth even getting smacked for his horrible accent, so at least he knew better how not to pronounce certain things.

When told to hand the spear, he did as such without hesitation. He knew she could take it away from him if she wanted to; but their exchange so far made him believe she wouldn't. And regardless of what she did, he knew better than to say no to a witch.

If he was honest with himself, he was curious about what she had in mind.

[Spark Vallen]

Spark watched her and nodded uncertainly, then repeated one of the phrases he heard often: "Ai nou get in hashta em."

He thought it meant "I don't know," and didn't realize it was "I don't know about him." And so, he unknowingly came off as strange or ironic at the least as he leaned forward to help her start digging again.

"Spark," he added. "I'm Spark."

[Cearia Tserta]

With a nod, Cearia took the spear and held the weapon horizontally, lightly tossing it up until her grip was center. The design was crude but the weight was nicely balanced with one end whittled down to a point. Then she placed a foot back as her arm dropped to twirl the weapon side to side gauging its use until on the last spin, the weapon came to rest against the back of her arm.

"Yuj java. Wood strong for spear." Her body relaxed, feet returning to a causal stance and regarded him. "You find better java."

She flipped the spear forward and had it rest diagonally across her front non-threateningly. "Den osir gonplei."

Since Cearia had become more active with the hunters in training and guiding them, her ability to recognize talent for this difficult, but rewarding life, had assisted in building their numbers. It was why she impressed upon the trio of terrors that they could become a hunting party and now, she was going to see if her intuition about the skai man was right. He was a warrior and was quick of mind to arm himself with an acceptable weapon that he was still in the process of making, and to adapt. The skai man was learning the language and their ways. He needed to learn more if he were to pass the trials.

"We fight. To ... train. Yu ned em." Cearia widened her eyes expectantly, waiting for his response. "Yu nou don kom. Choyce. Yours."

[Daca Tserta]

She gave him another funny look as their arms quickly worked at digging and eventually she guided him to smooth the sides. Daca had no idea what him he referred to, unless the skai man meant himself. Or the other skai man? She peeked around the immediate area to see if there was a nightbrother he was referring to, but it was just sisters.

"Skai man koken ..." Though she did look up when it sounded like he was trying to explain something.

"Spwak?" She smiled and started to giggle. "Yu laud as taim ... ah... bird ..."

She lifted her arms and folded them like wings before flapping them. "Spawk! Spawk!"

[Kavan Siron]

Kavan observed the hunter inspect his spear. He wished he had had more time to devote to it; but even with excellent stamina, he still tended to crash when the night sisters were done having him do every task they required of him. He knew that he'd have to do better if he was to make a place for himself in the clan though. Every moment he could make progress was a small victory. Granted, he knew that rested was part of it, for he had experienced a few times when he had pushed too much; but he would still try do better, and put more time aside to improve his weapon.

Watching someone else use the spear also made him more aware of how he should work on it. He was even tempted to almost start from scratch again, although the wood being strong for it was at least a decent point. Having to learn the local resources, and what he could actually get his hands on as a slave was more challenging than walking into an armory and picking up gear from a large stock.

The hunter's stance then wasn't threatening and she told him to go get another spear, based on his little understanding. He realized he might be staring as he was shocked, because he was under the impression she might wish to spar him. He lowered his gaze quickly and then was proven right, he nodded.

"Cha, hompleier."

He had no idea how to get another spear right away. He had few options, and making a new one wasn't among them. Asking any of the night sisters was useless, for he would just be punished even if he managed to make himself understood.

Yet he stepped back and took a hard look at those in proximity. He saw a couple of actual night brothers staring at him. He had already brawled with one of them within two days of having joined. Either it was some old fashioned right of passage, even though he didn't even know whether he'd be allowed to go through the trials Tristan had mentioned, or they just thought that beating a slave and skai man, made for merry times. Regardless, Kavan had kicked his ass, even though he had earned himself a good number of bruises and had feared a broken bone.

He knew they had heard the hunter. He managed to put a few words together. The other just walked away; but the one he had been in a fight with, eventually handed him his own spear, making it clear Kavan wasn't to keep it. The foreigner thanked the night brother and promptly returned to face the hunter, still confused as to why she would spar him.

Kavan mirrored her stance; knowing this was likely going to bring back memories from the academy, if not worse; but he was looking forward to it.

[Spark Vallen]

Spark breathed an exasperated sigh, caught between dismay and amusement.

"No, it's Spark."

His gaze shifted from her theatrical bird dance to the slight commotion a bit over from them. The other "skai man" - Kavan, Spark thought, seemed to be on a suicide mission, in his pacifistic view.

Is he really challenging her? What the frell?

"Hei..." Spark said, waving at the girl as she did her bird dance, pointing toward Kavan and the Nightsister. "Look."

[Cearia Tserta]

His surprise was palatable and her only acknowledgment was a firm nod that he could go. Kavan would have to prove himself resourceful in retrieving a suitable spear to fight with and Cearia was patient. She was a stoic figure holding the crude one he made, watching the skai man's every move and eventually followed his line of sight to a couple of brothers that had lingered. They were curious why the hunter had spared time to interact and speak with the slave. Their eyes were also familiar, hard set and glaring, towards him that spoke of an altercation. One backed away and cared little for the skai man, the other offered his spear with harsh reinforcement that it was to be returned.

Cearia nodded to the brother that relinquished his spear. "Ai na tran en kom daun java ha em Yu gav em."

He chuckled and offered a bow. "Em na na an koma taim em braks wen Yu bos op em, Grat Sis."

A rare smile touched her lips and she chuckled. "Oso na ai op."

Her face turned serious, forest greens locking on the skai man before her who had mirrored her stance. It had been many moons since she had fought another sister or brother in combat. The last was during the great reckoning when another survivor had decided to take instead of join for survival. Cearia took no pleasure in taking the woman's life, but it was her decision that the only chance to live was through thievery. Cearia may not have magick at her command, but she had been fighting since she was able to pick up a weapon and her mother realized that hunting was her daughter's calling. Cearia learned quickly that her deficit made her a target for ridicule and teasing. It also made her a quick and tenacious student of war and won many battles with skill, speed and calculated predictions of her opponents.

"Gon daun kom taim Won yeld," she stated crisply. "Say ... give up. When ... time..."

In a flash, Cearia circled the spear before her and thrust her back leg out, securing footing against the ground. The spear came to a halt along her right side, slightly pointed upwards to where it would align with Kavan's forehead. Her grip was as firm as her stance was loose, eying him. He had weight and height on her, but Cearia had faced great beasts and intimidating witches throughout her life. He would fall. It was up to him if his defeat would be honorable as she waited for him to make the first move ...

[Daca Tserta]

She smiled bright and toothy at his reaction, appreciating that the skai man slave liked her ribbing. Daca canted her head like a little lost bolma, eyes blinking slowly and nose crinkling upwards in thought.

"Nou Spwak? Sp ... ark. Spwark." Daca frowned, knowing that didn't sound right as she lowered her flapping arms. "Sparrk?"

The roll of the r's didn't work either but before she could try again, the skai man was trying to get her attention. He was quite spirited about it too. She curled her nose and looked over her shoulder, eyes bugging out at seeing Sister Cearia standing at the ready for a fight with the other skai man!

"Oh skrish!" Daca saw that others, including Sister Ibis, were slowly converging at the surprising sight. Fighting in the camp occurred for training or misunderstandings, but it was a rare sight to see a sister fight a slave, unless it was to punish them. The way that Cearia had not immediately attacked meant this was a simple challenge.

She got up to get a better view over the much taller people getting in her way. "Bilaik Skai hef lukot ste going gon get bash op meizen foto."

Daca smiled down at him. "Gaf in gon gyon au ai raun? Want to ... to see?"

[Kavan Siron]

Kavan knew that many members of the Clan could kick his ass; but he also knew that he had skills and a solid resilience. He used all of those to his advantage. He had no Force training, which put him at a disadvantage to all Force-wielding witches and Night brothers; but even without it, they were all survivors. He had managed to gather a few things that appeared to point towards a cataclysm that had ravaged much of the land. It had piqued his curiosity; but he had way bigger priorities in terms of figuring his way around, and carve himself a decent position.

He watched the brief exchange between the Night brother who had let him borrow his weapon and the Hunter. He was still struggling to grab words, but he always forced himself to be attentive to the language.

His past in the military had him unfazed that someone who served as hunter would challenge him and know how to fight. After all, the academy had taught him a lot of basics he had shared with all comrades, before they all went towards their own specialization.

He nodded when she told him to tell her he gave up when he couldn't take it anymore. There was no doubt in his mind that he would lose this fight. It didn't change how he would give his everything and do his best to endure as long as he could, and then some more. It was the only way he would be able to to get stronger.

His eyes were glued on her movements as she adjusted her position. His own footing was lighter at the moment, even though he was taller than her. When she beckoned him to go for the first move, he flicked his wrist and brought the spear before him. He half circled her before lunging towards her. At the last moment he shifted so the spear came towards her shoulder instead of her midsection.

[Spark Vallen]

Of any of what the child had said, Spark only caught the words that came in Basic: "Want to ... to see?" He nodded in agreement, looked around and saw that the elderly Night Sister had already abandoned them to see the fight, and pulled himself to his feet.

"Let's go see, kid," Spark agreed.

He dusted his pants off and extended a hand toward the girl, not that she needed his help, of course.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia was keenly attentive to the skai man's face once he settled into a stance, much like he was doing to her. As he lunged forward, she took a step back to keep distance between them, watching his eyes flicker towards her shoulder. The spear became an extension of her upper limbs, guiding the wooden tip into a semi-circle towards the far sharper flint tip coming towards her and halted its attack. With momentum on her side, the weapon was forced to point downwards.

Switching quickly to offense to keep him off guard, the spear came at him in a flurry of quick jabs with light footwork, ready to bounce into a new position to defend or capitalize on an opening.

The crowd that gathered had given both the Great Sister and slave ample room for the challenge to take place, forming a wide circle around the pair. Under normal circumstances, the crowd would have caused unease with Cearia and quite possibly would after the fight was over. For now, her focus was only on the skai man. She would assess his skills and mind with every attack and counter as he proved his potential worth.

[Daca Tserta]

Daca was absolutely certain that skai man Spark could come watch the fight along with everyone else since she was in charge of him! Age mattered little with rank and the young nightgirl held considerable power over the male slave. A slave that reached out to help her to her feet. Daca was a proud nightchild and sniffed at his hand in insult before hopping to her feet on her own power.

She thought the skai man funny, but there were limits. Daca wouldn't even allow Lantess to help her and he was a nightboy with the rights of one.

Waving him to follow, Daca fell into a quick excited jog as she darted around other gawkers since the crowd wasn't too thick yet. She spared a glance behind her to make sure the skai man slave was keeping up. When they reached the front, she noticed looks of annoyance that the other offworld slave was present.

"Em beda na bakon ga sises gon ai op," groused one of sisters.

Daca shrugged. "Em's kom ai. Em beda get in ha kom gonplei taim em ste kom kom Em gon daun."

The woman gave Spark a stern look in warning before returning to the fight. "Ste far kom em."

The nightgirl shrugged, grabbed him by the sleeve and tugged him closer, pointing to Cearia as she advanced on the other skai man slave. "Em's a hompleir. Hunter. Leads hunters. Grat Sis Cearia."

She couldn't contain the enthusiasm in which she spoke watching Cearia fight. Daca had never seen it before and as her young face lined with thought, she was certain that no one ever saw it. At least within the settlement by the looks of awe and surprise on the sisters and brothers that came to observe. The confusion was fleeting as she watched with doe-eyed wonder at the woman she hoped would mentor her one day.

[Kavan Siron]

The gathered crowd didn't disturb Kavan at all. He didn't feel distracted by it in hope it might increase his low status in the Clan, nor did he feel uncomfortable because he was being watched. That was something else he had learned at the military academy, when they all had to train against one another at times, being watched by both peers and instructors. What mattered was what one was doing, and their target or opponent. Given that Kavan wasn't part of any team at the moment, it also facilitated his focus for he only had to watch after himself.

Having had his ass handed over to him when younger and thinking that a shorter foe might prove easy, he was also very aware that besides the whole witch training the hunter had, she could generally be as fierce and devious regardless of her body type.

And even before Dathomir, he was no gentleman if he fought a woman. If fighting was involved, all bets were off.

His crud weapon turned into an actual one in the witch's hands, and when she used the momentum after parrying him, he had to quickly step back, dodging some of the jabs before quickly putting his own spear up to block with greater results, as the scratches on his forearms indicated.

He had no other choice but to keep parrying the flurry for a while, until he could get a brief lock with her weapon, using his strength to briefly push back, but instead of unlocking, he used the nearness to kick her in the shin.

He stepped back fast, and pivoted to attempt for a stab at her back.

[Spark Vallen]

Spark didn't understand why the kid was opposed to basic courtesy and just sighed to himself after she frowned. He felt he'd never get the hang of their ways and customs.

Why does it have to be SO different here? he thought. And why can't they have caf? It would be hot enough to grow the beans here...

As usual, his musings were cut short as the girl made her way through the crowd, tugging him along. He didn't know why she wanted him close; Spark worried that he would be thrown to the hunter next for an easy foe to beat on. He only caught snippets of what the other clan members said about him and frowned.

"Yeah, I know of her," Spark said to the kid. "Hey, she's not gonna beat on me next, is she?"

[Cearia Tserta]

The skai man soon brought up the staff to block her assault, a little too late by the superficial wounds on his arms. Their weapons exemplified their fight, both taking the fleeting moment to reassess for an advantage. He was strong, Cearia wouldn't deny that but she was able to hold her own against a more powerful counter. His feet stirred the ground below, a wisp of dust fading into the air, as warning. She brought her leg up to block the kick, which still stung but balance was maintained.

She moved a step back as did her opponent, bringing the staff above her head that twirled twice within both hands to gain swift momentum and brought it down as if it were hammer deflecting the intended blow towards the ground. In the next moment she pivoted around her opponent with a dancer's grace, swinging the weapon over her head in the opposite direction as before, and swiftly brought it down at an arc to crack against the skai man's lower back.

[Daca Tserta]

She paused and turned to Spark, slapping him on the chest in exhilaration of the fight so far. "Nau Yu get in mou! Know her more! See! She fight ... hard!"

Cearia blocking the skai man's attack was met with adulation and one of the voices that tried its best to be the loudest among the crowd was Daca.

"Flosh klin em, Grat Sis!!!" She bobbed up and down with fists in the air and cheered on the hunter, her voice emoting over the various shouts of encouragement and jeers thrown towards the combatants.

"You no fight. You break by her ..." she answered with an amused laugh. "You watch. You learn - Wow!"

Whatever the nightgirl wanted to say was cut off at the offense Cearia was doing. Her enthusiasm was palpable as Daca watched the impressive control the hunter had over the spear and thought of her own weapon, already planning on practicing every move seen here.

[Kavan Siron]

The whole point of this spar wasn't to win, but to survive for as long as he could. And that was why Kavan was pacing himself. He knew that he had to give his everything because of his opponent, and the gathered crowd that had began chanting in support of the huntress, which made complete sense given the bizarre situation. Yet he knew better than sap all of his strength from the get go. It was a delicate balance, likely the only thing delicate about this whole fight anyway.

He registered how she blocked the kick and maintained her balance, a not so common occurrence given how he had positioned himself.

He went to block the blow that came downward at him; but the witch proved her skills when she moved around him with fast and efficient ruse. He had but instants to respond. He threw himself to the ground to avoid the kick, feeling the weapon way too close for his liking, but he managed to avoid the attack.

He rolled to his side, not giving two shits he was on the ground. He had gone through worse. He went for s swiping kick towards her feet, but used it mostly to curl closer to her and go for an upward stabbing motions at her hips or midsection depending on how she would counter.

He'd get back to his feet eventually, but using everything to his potential advantage was what mattered most.

[Spark Vallen]

While the locals cheered and hollered and the kid laughed at him for worrying he'd be thrown into the bout, Spark spent most of his time watching and flinching with each impact - from blows to Kavan's kicks from the ground. This was not his idea of a good time, and he wondered how he was ever going to survive on this world, in this clan.

The enthusiasm around him felt almost palpable, Spark thought, and the energy of it was making him nauseous. He held his forehead and closed his eyes, trying to shut out his surroundings. Sometimes, that helped. When it didn't, he thumped the kid on the shoulder and said, "Hey, I'm not feeling so good."

[Cearia Tserta]

The spear missed its target but quickly put the skai slave on the defense. A quick roll of Cearia's wrist brought the weapon at the ready tucked between arm and side as she jumped up to avoid the attempted sweep of the legs. As her descent began, it felt like time slowed as Kavan's spear was noticeably going to cut her if she didn't quickly counter. Her left hand pushed the weapon back through the snug hold between her arm, leaving only a foot in front before she thrust downwards in a rowing motion to bat his attack away and land safely.

As her feet hit the ground she immediately jumped again, tucking into a forward flip to put some distance between them. Astute with awareness where the spear was in relation to her body - as all weapons had to be learned as an extension of ones self - she landed safely and with a necessary flourish, whirled the unrefined weapon in hand. It spun under her body as hands adjusted their grip to hold it sturdier before leaning forward as the weapon now circled across her back - arms and spear a flurry of purposeful movement. This was not for show but to readjust her stance.

Now with Kavan's weapon secured in her right hand, Cearia paced around the skai slave as if prey with a focus glint in her eyes that was not there before. She bared her teeth, shouting at him with the vigor of a war cry. "Gyon op en gon daun!"

[Daca Tserta]

"OH SKRISH!"

Daca's response was a common one throughout the crowd, as well as the oohs of surprise that were quickly drowned out by the erupting cheers. The nightsisters and brothers were impressed with Cearia's display and viciously taunted the skai man.

"GYON OP EN GON DAUN!!! Daca shouted to emphasize Cearia's words and soon a sister here and there started to do the same, bordering on a chant. She was going to say it again but the hard tap on her shoulder kept the words in her throat.

She glared at him for the interruption, but Daca's expression turned soft with understanding. "You ... sweaty. You ... haken? Sickness?"

Having her skai man fall ill with fever right now was the worst time! The gods were being mean to her for making a mess of Sister Ibis' fish and now she might miss the rest of the fight.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali had been busy for most of the day, reviewing various matters that required her attention as Clan Mother. She had got used to such obligations and duties in the past few months. She was grateful for the gods' blessings for the Clan at large, and was looking forward to seeing how stronger and more numerous the Undead Fires would become in the following years. It was good that all members put in their best efforts to make the group thrive in all aspects of the Clan's life.

The Beast Warden had made a quick pit stop by the baby fliers out of habit, before going to bring offerings to the gods, which she did on a regular basis, and today was one of such moments. After some heartfelt prayers, she had sensed Iss-Ka rush towards her, requiring the creature's full strength to sit quietly until her mistress was done. Anjali had nevertheless felt her Voritor's excitement and urgency through the bond that had only solidified since they had first met right during the days of the cataclysm.

Eventually, she turned to look at Iss-Ka, raising a brow in expectancy, knowing that the beast would be quick to make herself understand. With a swift movement, the lizard trotted to the Clan Mother, wrapped her tail around Anjali's wrist and tugged at it, before releasing it, making it clear the Clan Mother was to follow. The gesture amused Anjali, and piqued her interest. There was no fear from the beast, rather some gleeful mischief, which puzzled her. With a nod, she fell in stride behind the Voritor, as they promptly exited the caverns.

Anjali felt the excitement boom through the Force as she stepped outside, even before she heard the chanting or saw where the gathered clan members was located. Whatever was going on had more than Iss-Ka drawn.

Whatever was occurring was fascinating enough that it took a few moments for some of the sisters and brothers to let their Clan Mother pass through those who had formed a circle around a makeshift arena.

Her eyes fell upon her wife right away, admiring Cearia's fierceness and preciseness with awe. She had never seen her beloved fight as such. It shouldn't come as a surprise given the huntress's upbringing, and eventually path as a hunter, but she was nevertheless impressed. Life often kept them apart, and getting such opportunities was a treat, a small blessing among many.

As Cearia challenged her opponent to get up, chanting loudly echoed by the gathered Undead Fires, Anjali's piercing gaze moved to the one still on the ground. While her expression remained unchanged, she was shocked to see that her wife was fighting a male, the slave Khthonia had acquired during one of her scouting missions.

That was even more unexpected.

Captivated like the rest of the gathered assembly, Anjali felt Iss-Ka sit by her side, and she gently rested her hand on the lizard's head, communicating her thanks for having let her know about the spar.

There was no doubt that Cearia would win; but she was nevertheless elated to get to see her wife fight, learning more about her. And how the slave might survive would also indicate his potential as a night brother, if so adding value to the Clan.

[Kavan Siron]

Kavan had expected a parry and a quick counter attack, but she chose differently. He had already got back to his knees as he realized she was jumping away from him. There was little to no reason for him to keep a dirty low position, including his status of slave in the clan.

She was good, fast and precise, and that made for a solid opponent. By the time she stared at him, and shouted at him, he was getting back to his feet. The chanting and the gathered crowd were dull background perceptions, for his focus was on the woman before him.

He couldn't best her, but he wasn't going to beg for his life yet.

With no hesitation, he came at her with greater vigor, using his borrowed speared in a flourish whose pace quickened as he closed in on her. He was hoping he'd corner her against some of the bystanders so she would have no other choice but to jump away, which might allow him to pivot and stab at her mid-air.

[Spark Vallen]

Wincing, Spark nodded in reply.

This is as bad as that time I got hammered, he thought, when that frakking Aqualish thought it'd be funny to keep me drinking to distract me...

He groaned at the memory of that night and all that was associated with it.

No, Spark amended as he fought back bile, this is actually worse. That was a situation I could leave...

The Corellian pushed back from the kid, lurching away from the bout and the crowd, trying to put a little distance between himself and them, as if that would help his overwhelmed, confused senses.

"GYON OP EN GON DAUN!" he shouted in perfect Dathomiri (for a change), and then fell face forward, collapsing in the dirt just beyond the crowd.

[Cearia Tserta]

Like her opponent, Cearia's entire focus was was the fight. The chanting and cheers and the crowd amassing in great numbers were inconsequential to her, even if Iss-Ka had returned with the Clan Mother to witness. What mattered was seeing the skai slave prove his worth or more importantly, give him the opportunity to do so. The hunter was cognizant that her views of males was in the minority, but she always trusted her instincts. The crudely constructed spear, the proud and polite skai man engaging in enough conversation - it was possible his skills as a fighter from the stars could be useful to the clan.

He wasn't a disappointment thus far.

He accepted her challenge with a fighting spirit - getting to his feet and coming at her with increasing speed. His desire to back the hunter into the crowd was thwarted as she met him head on with a cry, attacking and countering his flourishes with speed and focus. He had been trained well wherever he came from, but he wasn't hardened by Dathomir or the brutish disapproval of a clan that forced a young sister to fight every day of her life to earn acceptance where none would ever come. Only when the world was cleansed by fire had she found a home among the nightsisters, a clan with a rival vision and power, but welcomed her with open arms - even earning the respect and desire of the Clan Mother who claimed her as mate. Cearia struggles remained a constant - noticeable to the Beast Wardens and her haiplana - but that remained buried during the fight. Insecurities had no place here.

Whether the skai slave was aware or not, Cearia kept him corralled in the middle of the circle. She was leading this fight and the hunter wanted to ensure that bystanders were not caught off guard by a stray shaft or spear head. It was known to happen at times during these battles, but Cearia wanted her people safe and if anyone was going to be hurt it was going to be the slave or her protecting the crowd from an accidental blow.

Their spears blocked with varying angles, bodies twisting and adjusting in half turns or spins, shafts slamming together low and high, circling the others weapon for an opening, or countering with a flourish in an attempt to disarm.

She jumped back to avoid a sharp jab and countered with a wide, low, swinging attack to keep Kavan on the defensive, and brought it over her head and down low to push him to counter. Anticipating his attack, Cearia side stepped and locked his weapon against her chest, holding it with one hand and used her leverage to fall back, forcing him to follow without ease of maintaining control of his weapon. To one side of the crowd it appeared that the Great Sister may have been injured since the spear tip was hidden from view. They cheered when she kept moving and watched her plant a foot down to halt their momentum, ducked under his spear, leaving a split second to take advantage of the moment.

Cearia kept a tight grip on both weapons for support and flipped forward with such speed that a boot was coming down right at Kavan's head ...

[Daca Tserta]

"Go see fisa. Healer. No stay." He should know where Sister Ashia was located. Even slaves were offered treatment if warranted and right now, Daca deemed it so.

"Ai op Yu sona." And she would check on him, after the fight.

She turned to watch the match just as Spark fell to the ground, his groans drowned by the clamoring cheers that only resounded even louder at seeing Cearia's sudden acrobatic display.

"Bash Em melon raun!!!" The sister next to Daca that didn't approve of her skai man was happy seeing Cearia beat up the other one.

Daca's face widened with awe and joined in the adulation before her forehead pinched together with a sense of dread. She was not well trained to know where it was coming from ...

[Anjali Raskor]

While Anjali was curious about the slave, as much as it shocked her to see her wife spar him when he was still nothing but a slave; most of her attention was upon her wife. Whatever Cearia thought of the skai man, she trusted her opinion, and had thus no need to be actively assessing his every move. Trusting other Clan Mothers to be more than simple survivors, a feat in itself, had been one of the lessons Anjali had learned early on when she had been named Clan Mother. It could be challenging at times, especially when she was naturally protective, even in the harsh and tough love way that her birth Clan had instilled in her. Yet she had been doing well, appreciating her fellow leaders, and knowing that she could rely on many members to do their part, and thus bringing the Undead Fires to well-functioning ways.

She welcomed the break from her obligations, so she could get lost in her amazed observation of the huntress's fighting skills. It made a lot of sense that Cearia would be that proficient given her upbringing, and the fact that as a non-Force user, she had been considered as lesser, and thus likely bullied on a regular basis. That still played war in her beloved's heart; but once again the Clan Mother was impressed with her and the extent of her capacities, even when she knew Cearia might downplay them later.

For now, Anjali pushed away the dissonance that disturbed her wife's soul, and gave her attention to how she fought. There was grace in her movement, but it couldn't conceal the fierce strength that underlined her attacks and parries.

When she couldn't see the spear, she instinctively opened herself more to her enhanced perceptions and felt nothing bad from her wife, thus keeping her fearless about how the spar was unfolding, even when some among the crowd had briefly held their breaths, before realizing the huntress was still fine, which brought a proud smile to Anjali's lips.

[Kavan Siron]

While he had left the military a few years back, along with some of his comrades, Kavan had thrown himself into a new life that had never really made him feel as alive as the battlefield. While Tonyh and Ranooki had adjusted to civilian life with impressive ease, and Ara had fell in love with her bodyguard and nanny job for Vankar's offspring, he had stayed on the fringe of their operations, even when the business was flourishing and they had dealings with the underworld, which could keep things interesting.

Smuggling hadn't been enough for him, which was maybe why he had grown not a death wish, for he loved life too much, but got himself into more and more dangerous but kind of stupid situations. He had known very well that trying to outsmart a Ducha who was known for shady dealings and being ruthless was a bad idea. Hell, that was how he had crashed on Dathomir, after his small crew had died, but not without the assassin being killed by his bare hands. There was a raging thirst in him for something more, although he had never put his finger on what exactly.

As much as he could miss the battlefield, he hadn't missed the military, and the barking orders and not having a say in anything, at least in his own view.

He was still getting barked at on Dathomir, and it was even worse than military academy and some war zones he had been in; but the do or die challenge was giving him more life than in a very long time. That was likely why he was actually embracing the hardships and getting his ass handed over to him, fighting and proving his way both physically and intellectually, so he could eventually get beyond the status of slave.

He knew he would, no matter what it took.

He realized that the huntress wasn't allowing him too close to the bystanders. That was a protectiveness towards her people, he briefly mused, for she could have chosen to use them as canon fodder; but that proved to him once again that the clan members protected one another, which was a strength.

The Sister kept him pushing hard, and he felt the familiar eerie sensation that sometimes ran through his body, as he went above and beyond what he normally could do. It was furtive and he still mostly relied on his combat training, but it pulsed within him, as it appeared to happen more often since his fight with the assassin and then pushing through limitations to survive on Dathomir.

He would later on replay the whole fight in his mind over and over again, to dissect it, but now he only had the very moment to react, sometimes quick enough, sometimes just a tad too late, as the bruises and scraps on his body were beginning to tell, but he kept pushing.

When the kick came to his head, he had no time to think. He let go of his weapon at once, and grabbed at the hunter's foot, her boot way too close for comfort, and he held tight, twisting it as hard as he could. She hadn't gone easy on him, so he had no reason to do it.

He had to keep himself grounded and he managed to do so, even with the strong impact of her kick whose momentum he had to block. He felt his shoulders scream for mercy and the pain was as if the bones were going to crash into his spine, but he forced himself to use the meager moments to his advantage, hoping he'd weaken the Sister for a split moment.

He had to keep enough energy for whatever she would do with or without weapons though, for he knew his reserves would eventually fade.

[Spark Vallen]

Frak.

Eyes squeezed shut, Spark's fingers curled into fists in the dirt and he pushed off and forced himself into a crouch. He took a slow, deep breath, trying to ease his pounding skull. Though he was only feet away from the circle of onlookers, they felt and sounded far away as the Corellian focused on his breathing and the pain.

C'mon. Pull it together, he thought, breathing slowly.

The overwhelming swirl of pain and riotous feeling would not dispel, which scared him. This went far beyond stimcaf withdrawl, he realized. This was something more... something external, dark and potent. Eyes still closed, Spark bit his lower lip, trying to make sense of this.

Been here for weeks, and this nagging... feeling... has been constant. If not the caf, then what? And what happens if... I quit fighting it?

He swallowed hard and stood up. Blue eyes open, his expression was stormy as he walked away from the gathering. The kid had told him to see the healer, and he might... be he needed time alone to walk this off and figure out what was really happening to him, here on Dathomir.

[Cearia Tserta]

With a hiss, Cearia adjusted her position with a hop to counter the sudden jerk and twist of her foot, losing the skai slave's spear in the process to maintain balance. She bent the knee of the captured leg needing to free limb as priority, and in the next move she grabbed Kavan by the back of the neck and braced herself for impact when heads met. Her hand still held him by the neck as both of them reeled back, Cearia feeling only a dull ache as she was in charge of the attack, brought Kavan's head back down to slam against her knee. With him off balance, she was able to jerk her leg free to the ground.

She quickly moved behind him, the spear circling behind her back as she adjusted her grip, and brought the pole along Kavan's neck. With the height difference, she was hoping to keep him off balance and have better leverage on him as he choked.

"Ste bilaik gon daun odon?!" she barks against his ear.

[Daca Tserta]

Daca whoaed with the crowd, teeth clenched together with worry as the skai slave grabbed Cearia's leg and tried wrenching it. It was a precarious position and the nightchild wasn't sure how one could escape from this. The question was answered quickly before Daca could even formulate an idea when Cearia countered with a headbutt and then smashed the slave's face onto her knee, allowing escape.

The cheers erupted and now there were more swaying arms and bodies in her way, which made her frown. She wove around clan members to get a better view, stealing glimpses of movements from the fight when she mistakenly bumped into someone.

"Fiya!" she said without looking up, bouncing and smiling when she saw Cearia had Kavan in a choke hold with the spear, not realizing that she collided with the Clan Mother.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali knew that her wife would win the spar, but she was glad that the slave seemed willing to put up some fight. Not only would it likely indicate that Khthonia's possession might bring some value to the Clan, but it also gave her a better opportunity to watch her mate's display of skills.

Iss-Ka was batting at the ground in excitement, her tongue darting out at times. The Clan Mother was still amazed at her Voritor's growing affection for her mate. It was definitely a gift from the gods, and a sign in favor of both her union to the huntress, and Cearia's potential as a Beast Warden.

When a young night girl bumped into her, apologizing quickly, too engrossed in the spar, Anjali recognized one of the children who had been with them for a while, an orphan, she recalled.

As she watched her wife choke the slave, she grinned devilishly and then rested a hand on the child's shoulder, leaning forward just so she could hear her.

"Yer chomolathi jin Vezhven Inavva, avvos yer?"

[Kavan Siron]

He really thought his skull had broken the moment it collided with the hunter's head.

He didn't have the luxury to ponder on it, stringing two thoughts together hurt like a bitch.

He wasn't going to give...

OUCH.

She had cut his flesh open on his forehead and temple with the impact and he had to blink dripping blood.

Third thought didn't happen because she crashed his head into her knee and before he knew it she was choking dear life out of him.

That was it. His life was bloody dear to him.

He didn't bother was precious consciousness to reply to what she barked into his ear.

Gon daun ste nou odon, gada.

He crouched quickly, hands grabbing at the spear against his neck and he used every last bit of energy to throw her over him to free himself from her grip.

He could barely move and his head felt like a lightspeed freighter repeatedly crashing into an asteroid, but whatever...

Screaming, he lunged at her with a flurry of punches, hoping to grab at her with the last bit of strength he had.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia knew what was coming the moment Kavan started to crouch towards the ground. She tucked her head against the back of his shoulder, leaning against him to help soften the impact when she hit the ground, both losing the spear in the process. She did grunt as the wind was momentarily knock out of her. Cearia quickly sucked in air, planted hands against the ground by her head and tucked knees against her abdomen, slightly forcing her body to rock. The strength in her legs and the power in her arms aided with momentum, allowed the hunter to quickly kick up to her feet as the slave began his erratic attempt at offense. He was volatile and desperate.

Arms were brought up for protection, his fists and forearms unable to reach his intended target as they were deflected away. When he lunged forward with a wide, wild, attack, Cearia ducked safely under and latched arms around his waist. With wrists locked, she hefted him a few inches off the ground and body slammed him with strength created from pure adrenaline or perhaps something more. Perhaps it was the same bright aura that guided her arrow to hit true and free Iss-Ka of her offering, saved from being eaten by a young rampaging Rancor (https://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?57957-Hungry-like-the-Rancor/page2).

She didn't let up when Kavan lost his breath. Pivoting on a knee, Cearia saw the spear that was dropped not too far from them during the scuffle. She picked it up by the pole and pushed off the ground as if seamlessly walking up a step, fiercely eying the skai slave. His spirit was strong, pushing through the pain for one final attack in hopes of obtaining the upper hand, but his fight ends now.

The weapon spun around and around as the hunter stalked closer to Kavan's prone body and CRACK ...the blunt end of the spear came across the side of his face ...

"Yeld!" Her voice was of command, not just strong with question like before, as she pointed the deadly tip of the nightbrother's spear at his neck.

[Daca Tserta]

Daca's eyes darted back and forth between the fighters, wondering what would happen next. Surely the skai slave would have to yield or be choked out, forfeiting the match by default. She watched Kavan struggle, blinks forcing him to stay focused as blood dripped along his face.

"Sha, Ai dula op. Ai gaf in bilaik jos like em." She was distracted but managed to quickly answer and as Daca was about to turn to see who spoke the question, she gasped as Cearia was thrown over the slave's head.

She wasn't the only one. It was the first time that the slave had gained an advantage over the Great Sister and it took the crowd by surprise.

"Gyon op ..." she whispered but in the next breath cried out in raw glee as Cearia immediately bound to her feet and defended herself from the clumsy attacks.

"Yu don ai op?!" Daca turned to her fellow spectator, grinning with delight as she pointed towards the fight with a hop, only for her face to fall into shock at seeing who had talked to her.

"Nomon Anjali!" Her mouth hung open, jaw working at something else to say that wouldn't embarrass her further. Out of all the people to admit she favored Great Sister Cearia, it just had to be her chosen, the Clan Mother.

She bowed her head, offering respect to her leader as was proper. "Bilaik houmon gon dauns ena en kom grat yuj."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali couldn't help dividing her attention between her beloved and the night girl who had accidentally bumped into her. Daca was engrossed in the spar, like everybody else, and rightfully so. It amused the Clan Mother that the young witch didn't realize who she was speaking to. In a way, it reminded the Beast Warden when she was just one among many. Life changed, and any situation had its positives and negatives.

There was something about Daca's excitement that piqued Anjali's curiosity, although it was a fleeting thought in the midst of their brief conversation as she was among those yelled in encouragement to the huntress.

"Cha, Ai yu don," she replied at once when asked whether she had seen her wife's latest move.

While it was good that the slave exhibited a drive to survive and keep fighting, there was no way he could get out of this still alive if he didn't yield this time around.

Anjali had always been proud of her wife, but the way she fought was a sight for sore eyes, and her techniques was outstanding.

She laughed at the shocked look on Daca's face upon realizing who she had been speaking with.

"Won deyon Yu hofli gon daun dise seintaim," she replied to the praise about her mate's prowess.

She rested a hand on Daca's shoulder, nudging her to keep watching.

[Kavan Siron]

He knew that pushing his luck would likely mean more injuries but he didn't have the luxury to prove himself so often, and if there was one thing that he had learned in the military and from what he had already observed in his time on Dathomir was that yielding at first chance or too easily wasn't the way to go. Down the road, he might have the luxury for better tactics, but this day had yet to pass.

There was this sensation mixed with the accute pain and exhaustion that he had become familiar with over the years. It was difficult to explain but as much as he would just joke it was his good luck, or death hating the thought of having to deal with him for eternity, he really didn't know what the hell it was. Tales of Jedi and Sith, and even witches were one thing; but the scoundrel had never thought of himself as being Force sensitive. That was one in a million or maybe the whole survivor thing on this wild rock.

He was a fighter but he only considered it hard work with some sheer luck tossed in every once in a while.

While he wasn't surprised that his attacks didn't land as he had expected, he had to push further before yielding. And every beating he took from that hunter gave him more insight, though later when he had the brain power to go through it again, into how they fought. Observing was one thing but experiencing it first hand was a whole different matter.

When she body-slammed him against the ground, he knew he had at least one cracked rib, but what caught his remaining attention, for the world still ebbed and flow in various shades of light and dark given the concussion, was the spear that could end him should he now prove to be stupid.

He had done stupid things in his life, but he wasn't going to die now.

"Ai yeld," he managed to say clearly.

[Spark Vallen]

Breathe. Just... keep... breathing.

Vallen followed his own advice, taking slow, measured breaths as he walked the camp. With nearly everyone focused on the bout, he was free to move without drawing any interest from the Witches and Night Brothers.

Breathe.

As he walked, and breathed, Spark tried to also think. He considered that sensation, that darkness, that energy, how cloying it had been as the crowd gathered around Cearia and the other slave, Kavan. He knew he wasn't claustrophobic nor anxiety-ridden in crowds, so it wasn't that. No, what he'd felt was something different -- something outside himself, clawing its way in.

But what?

The Corellian didn't know. He looked up into the blood-red sky because there was no one nearby to yell at him for doing so. But, there was no answer, no hope to be found there. Closing his eyes a moment, he bowed his head, then re-opened them to gaze quite literally at his booted feet, at the hard-packed earth.

"Fisa. Healer."

He felt better now, apart from the gathering and the energy of the bout. But, still, maybe a healer was exactly who he needed to see. Spark turned and headed toward the caves.

[Cearia Tserta]

The skai slave was not a fool. If he were, Cearia would not have started the contest to allow him a chance to prove his worth. Her curiosity about the slave's skills was the main reason for allowing this - to see what strength a soldier from the stars could bring to the clan - but it was an opportunity to been seen as more than a slave. If he decided to continue, his life was forfeit for she would not hesitate in stabbing the spear through his neck and make it up to Khthonia later for killing her pet. She was ready to strike if he even twitched the wrong way.

As soon as he yielded, Cearia's posture loosened and pulled the spear away from his neck as the crowd erupted with cheers and screams.

"Gud gon daun, Grat Sis!" The nightbrother that Kavan had borrowed the spear from stepped forward and bow graciously. "En Yu don dula nou bos op em!'

She tossed the spear to him with a smile. "Won deyon skai hef na gon daun kom em praperle."

He caught it and raised it high above his head. "Blesins gon bilaik viketre!

Cearia nodded with gratitude and became very acutely aware of the sizable crowd that gathered to watch the fight. It felt strange seeing her clan cheering for her and enjoying her prowess as a fighter instead of against her, insinuating that her victories against other clan members were by luck or the sister threw the fight. It were all lies, but still the sight was jarring.

She felt as dizzy as the concussed skai slave and focused on him.

"You fight good." She crouched and placed a hand on his chest, needing to focus on Kavan or risk panicking in front of this sizable crowd. She felt it brewing just under the surface of her thoughts, anxiety nagging and begging to be released. That could not happen as her behavior would also be a reflection upon the Clan Mother. "Now fis op. Heal."

She looked to two nightbrothers and flagged them over. "Lid in em gon, Sis Ashia."

They didn't question Cearia's orders in helping the slave and immediately moved to the ground as Cearia rose to stand and stepped back to allow them room to lift him to his feet.

"Hod op."

She jogged over to retrieve Kavan's spear and when she looked up, green eyes caught a glimpse of familiar untamed blonde hair, high cheekbones and eyes that shined with nothing but pride.

Anjali ... but ... for how long?! Skrish!

The crowd was enough to stir Cearia's agitation. Anjali's presence stoked the embers into a full on blaze. She ducked her head, avoiding the Clan Mother's gaze to hand the spear off to one of the brothers taking Kavan to see Ashia.

[Daca Tserta]

Daca blinked with astonishment that Mother Anjali suggested that may happen! High aspirations went through her head and if she wanted to be just like the Great Sister, Daca would need to practice every day - fighting, tracking, hunting - whatever, and for however long, it took, Daca would train. Secretly she hoped that if she mustered enough bravery, that maybe the hunter would offer lessons too. Today had been a good sign when Cearia had played with them, but should Daca press for more?

Her thoughts ended there as the Clan Mother encouraged her to keep watching, which she was grateful for! She just watched Cearia body slam the slave to the ground and watch with fascination at how graceful the hunter was as she claimed victory. She immediately cheered with the rest of the crowd when they heard the skai slave gave up. She didn't jump up and down this time, just merely smiling and taking it all in before looking up at the Clan Mother.

"Ai hope yu laik ait en Ai na na like em, Nomon Anjali," she said with a nod, determined.

[Ashia]

Ashia was inside her residence, grinding herbs by mortar and pestle. Blonde hair was tied in multiple braids that hid her face that was deep in concentration. As the clan grew in numbers, her medicines and supplies grew thinner. She was constantly replenishing and mixing ingredients and stripping cloths for bandages, blessed that the children were here to help wash linens! That allowed her some time to sleep, but only for a few hours stolen here or there. Considered the expert healer in the clan with a few other sisters that showed promise, Ashia was called upon most often to assess injuries and illnesses, and guide the young sisters that barely touched adulthood in the healing arts.

A presence was looming closer, one that was searching for her. Ashia's empathic abilities greatly assisted with her craft but felt just as confused as the one that was seeking her for comfort. She set aside her tools and went to the flap, pushing it aside and with surprise, found one of the skai slave's coming towards her.

She moved under the flap, letting it fall to sway back and forth in the doorway as she approached him. This slave man and the other spoke the same language and Ashia had been working hard to learn it. Slaves as they may be for now, if she were to tend to them, she needed away to communicate until they could speak her language.

"Are you hurt?" She was looking for any reason why he was here but besides tired eyes and looking pale, Ashia was grasping for ideas. "Sick?"

[Anjali Raskor]

Daca's reaction to her hopes and expectations made Anjali offer a faint smile to the girl. There was a lot of fire in her, and while she could be a fierce pest, she also had a lot of potential. The Clan Mother had been a terror as a night girl, so it had also taught her how to see through the irritating surface. And life required them to be strong, so inner fire was a good thing when molded and refined to use potential to its fullest.

She had caught sight of the girl marveling at Cearia, as well as the Rancor enclosure. She didn't know for sure where the gods would lead Daca, but she had faith the girl would go far, even if a lot of chastising was in store to help lessons be remembered.

After she nudged the girl to return to the fight, she was herself in awe of her beloved. The strength Cearia was displaying once again made her ponder on that "lack of magick" her wife bemoaned too often, sinking her otherwise strong spirit. Anjali couldn't help seeing more than a non-sensitive mortal in certain feats the lean and short huntress performed. Yet she didn't feel the uncanny power in her as she felt it in most other clan members. This discrepancy puzzled her.

The skai man yielded when no other choice was possible, but at least he had enough wits to know how to stay alive. That was something that indicated potential use for the Clan.

When her gaze briefly met with her wife's, she saw the shock pass very briefly but certainly on her mate's face, as well as how she chose to busy herself with the slave right after, likely pondering what to do with him.

She briefly wondered what her wife would choose to do, and her decision to send him, helped by two brothers, to Sister Ashia, informed the Clan Mother that Cearia found value in him. Khthonia's pet slave might bring good things to the Clan then.

After cheering and chanting with the rest of the crowd, she nodded to Daca's words, sensing the seriousness of the girl's intent.

While she was visibly delighted to see her wife do so well, she didn't want to steal the moment from her, and stood among the other Clan members, resisting the urge to close the distance with her beloved and congratulate her in the center of the circle.

[Kavan Siron]

He was clinging to consciousness with bits of energy and stubbornness he wasn't even sure where they came from; but he used them.

He refused to pass out in front of everyone, in the circle. No matter what the hunter would decide, he wanted to be present.

When she removed the spear away, the chanting that erupted deafened him, given the splitting headache that was plaguing his throbbing skull.

He didn't really capture what happened until the Great Sister came back and crouched next to him.

"Chof... hompleier," he managed to mutter in thanks to her compliment.

He was shocked when she told him to go see the healer, and even more as she asked two night brothers to help him up. He hadn't expected that at all, believing he was still unworthy of any healing help. He didn't argue with it, and not just out of respect. His strength was barely enough for him to stand and move his feet just a tad, as the two Dathomiri men help him away from the circle.

He hadn't expected her to bring his unbroken spear back to him, nor one of his helpers to fetch it.

That was mind blowing to him, but for now, pushing through the pain and exhaustion until he could collapse for good in the healer's place was all he could do.

[Spark Vallen]

Sure isn't a medcenter, Spark thought. But, he squashed some criticisms and comparisons because - clearly - the clan was surviving so a pristine, droid-staffed clinic wasn't the only way to heal or be healed.

Spark first gave the healer a respect bow of his head before speaking; he was learning some things, after all.

"Soul sick, I think," he replied after a moment's pause and consideration for how to best respond. "There's... darkness tugging at my soul. I don't know what it means or what I'm supposed to do."

And, I don't even know if I'm making sense.​

[Cearia Tserta]

The nightbrothers would not question the Great Sister's command and would treat the slave properly, though they would not go out of their way to make him comfortable. They would fulfill the hunter's order and bring the skai slave to the healer with his weapon, and nothing more.

She offered her opponent a stiff nod in acknowledgement before the two brothers hefted him away.

Cearia hoped that as Kavan mended, he would look back on the fight and learn from it, especially the lesson that his meager spear was a strong weapon when used with a skilled hand. He had much to learn still in order to survive the trials, but Cearia was confident he would. He had a warrior's spirit and good instincts that needed time to mold his skai ways with the harsh realities of Dathomir, and that would take practice. This is something she would have to think on because she didn't want his potential wasted, but her sway for such matters was little as the clan as a whole had no sympathy for his plight. Unlike her.

With a sigh, she regarded the quieting crowd, not cheering as loudly since the skai man was escorted away. A few stepped forward to offer congratulations and adulation, her stoic face offering the same silent gratitude to every member that approached her, masking her apprehension at being the center of attention. Maybe some felt her unease but none mentioned it nor behaved if knowing the truth.

She searched for a familiar gaze, needing to lay eyes on her mate for comfort. It felt counter intuitive with how disconnected she felt in regards to her station and worth as the chosen of the Clan Mother. Now she desperately needed to find Anjali to ground herself and easily found her since the crowd was dispersing. What finally broke her cool gaze was seeing the nightgirl standing closely beside Anjali. A brow lofted at the sight before approaching them, weaving between lingering clan members...

[Daca Tserta]

Daca slowly lowered her hands and watched with curiosity and confusion as to how the Great Sister treated the slave. She was ... kind. The slave must have really impressed Cearia for her to display such compassion. Daca looked up at Anjali to see the Clan Mother deep in thought but did not move or say anything to discount the honor that her mate bestowed upon the slave.

She scratched her chin in thought and wondered how a skai hef with no rights was able to get the Great Sister to fight her, but all Daca had gotten was one little moment with her after weeks and weeks of nothing. It was decisively unfair in the night girl's mind.

Though her bravado drained from her body, replaced with a rapidly beating heart at seeing Cearia come her way. Eyes widened and she quickly looked up at Anjali to remain respectful.

"Mochof gon chichplei gon Ai, Nomon Anjali! Leidon!" Daca legs moved just as fast as the words leaving her mouth as she ran off ...

[Ashia]

"Come..." Her tone was soothing and gentle as Ashia took his arm in hers to lead Spark into her quarters. As they walked, she was gently probing his emotional state and the darkness in which he spoke of with the gifts the gods bestowed upon her. Even with that quick brush of interconnection, Ashia learned a lot.

He was frustrated being here, which was understandable, felt useless and feared what the future would hold for him if he couldn't pass the trials. He did not wish to be a slave forever.

She coaxed him to take a seat and pulled up a chair to sit before him as piercing blue eyes studied him. They were the second set of eyes that looked upon him kindly today. "Do you know you can use magicks?"

Ashia felt the ripples of raw power emanating from him like many of the brothers. If it were unchecked, it could explain that his senses were flooded with the energy surrounding him and would need help quieting his mind.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali watched Daca's reaction to Cearia's behavior with the slave, picking on the girl's confusion. She was glad though that beyond immediate puzzlement, the young witch seemed plunged into deep thinking at once, as if trying to come to terms with the Huntress's rare behavior with the skai man. The Clan Mother herself could still require double takes with Cearia's views on men, including slaves. But she had seen her mate blossom as a proficient hunter who provided much to the Clan, as well as picking good fellow hunters to work under her. So, she was learning to trust her wife's judgement, which was reason why she hadn't stepped in during the spar, nor would question what decision was formed in its aftermath.

She smiled to her beloved as she watched her make her way towards her, after other clan members had offered well-earned praise. It appeared that it hadn't crossed her mate's mind that a crowd could gather around her because of the spar. She was proud whenever to see her wife's work be remarked, given how much she did for the group.

Before she could say anything to her wife, she caught Daca's sudden words and then her attempt at scampering off when she realized Cearia was coming their way.

Anjali saw it otherwise, and without hesitation she grabbed the fiery child, her fingers resting firmly on her shoulder. She wouldn't hurt her but she didn't give her choice.

"Reri," she said curtly.

Daca was to stay by the Clan Mother's side as Cearia approached.

"Ath-vezhvenar, anna chiorikem," she then said, pride obvious in her tone and her expression.

[Spark Vallen]

"Magic?" Spark repeated, lifting a dirty (literally) blond eyebrow.

He thought that Ashia must be using a local word that he didn't know the translation for, because suggesting he could do magic made no sense to him at all. Being a magician was no more in his wheelhouse than anything else on this world.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he admitted. And then, because he was nervous and anxious, he started rambling. "I'm no magician... unless my skill for making a cuppa caf vanish is considered magical, somehow. But, you've never seen me pull that trick anyway... no caf here. Er... sorry. Magic?"

[Daca Tserta]

Daca felt a firm grip on her shoulder, forcing her to stay. The act made her wobble as legs wanted to move faster than her upper body. Thankfully she didn't stumble too badly, which would have been horrifying before the Great Sister, but Daca did bump against Mother Anjali's side. Her eyes cast downwards as she accepted the command with a nervous scowl.

Of all the luck of finding the Clan Mother to spectate with during the fight and reveal her feelings towards the hunter. Now she was being forced to stay and awkwardly rubbed the back of her arm when she saw Cearia's shadow stop moving along the ground. She focused on the hunter's dirtied boots, wondering why she was being punished...

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia noticed the odd exchange between mate and the little terror, and her heart went out for the nightgirl. The expression on the child's face was one Cearia had many times in the presence of Anjali - awkward and brooding.

"Ai laik komaed Yu ai rauned Ai gon daun, Kru Nomon," stated Cearia with a deep bow, beaming with pride that she had please her mate.

Most of the attention had moved away from Clan Mother and her mate, but they were still of interest to some that lingered, slowly returning to their duties. Clan members whispered with curiosity and debate over Cearia's decision to fight the skai slave and allow him to be brought to the healer. Sister Ibis saw the troublemaker nightchild near the Clan Mother and thanked the gods that the girl would finally be reprimanded.

[Ashia]

Ashia scowled with thought as she rose to retrieve a damp cloth. When she sat down, the healer immediately began to wipe at his brow and considered the slave's confusion and ramblings. She didn't understand a lot of what he said, but Ashia got the basic gist of it.

"Magick. Ah ..." She worked her jaw at finding the proper explanation. "Power."

She gently pressed two fingers against his temple. "You ... ah, tensek."

Her accent was thick with the word and her hand pressed against his chest where his heart beat quickly. "You scared. I feel it here."

She touched her own heart and temple. "I feel it with all people."

Blue eyes gently pressed his for understanding. "My magick. My power."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali could tell the child was feeling punished, even though it wasn't her intention at all. The little terror needed to be reprimanded on several occasions for the whispers she had heard across the tribe; but now wasn't meant for that. She had seen how amazed the girl had been at the spar, and it only seemed good that she would tell Cearia herself. She could be a young monster; but she needed to build up confidence where needed.

"Disha gada lavakat en lafayat gon bilaik gon daun."

Iss-Ka was making use of the now disseminating crowd to approach. As much as she had affection for her mistress's mate, she had no interest in being trampled over. That was why she had kept at a safe distance until now. She gently patted the huntress's boot and bowed her head in appreciation for a good fight, based on the little she had observed for humans could fight fiercely. She'd have happily eaten the slave, but he was nowhere to be seen so she guessed he wasn't on the menu today.

Giving a look at the seemingly traumatized pest, the large Voritor couldn't resist swatting her butt before coming to sit on the other side of the Clan Mother.

Her Voritor's behavior baffled Anjali who knew how Iss-Ka disliked touching other Clan members. She wondered what this might mean, and looked at her wife, betting that it was a shock to Cearia as well.

Letting the matter be for now, she grinned to her mate.

"Kisha jif lajat ato asshekh."

She was always willing to prove herself against a worthy opponent, and her beloved definitely was one.

[Spark Vallen]

With each gentle touch from the healer, the Corellian's skin jumped. Close physical contact wasn't something he was generally good at and was unused to, and his system startled. Spark's eyes widened with growing comprehension. If she meant what he thought she meant...

"The Force? Do you mean the Force?!" he almost yelped, shaking his head. "Well, that would explain a lot here, but... me? What?! No, that's crazy, no offense! I'm a nobody!"

He sat back, thinking. What Ashia was saying about them made sense. Their quickness, their unnerving insights, and oftentimes physical grace.

So, why am I getting migraines when they're riled up in a group? he mused.

Images of every Sith and fallen Jedi he'd ever seen in a cheesy holopic flashed before his eyes and Spark startled again, as if Ashia had touched him again.

The Darkside.

He closed his eyes, brow furrowing.

Really? So... they're darksiders. Not Dark Jedi because they weren't Jedi to begin with... right? Does this make them... dangerous? Evil...?

Spark was ignorant to the particulars of Force-related dogma and philosophy. He was just a simple guy who used to haul blue milk across the galaxy for a living, for Maw's sake. What did he know about such intricacies? He thought about the kid - Daca - who was sort of trying to be nice to him back at the fish pit. She didn't seem dangerous nor evil. The others in the clan... Spark allowed there was the potential for danger, as he saw it as the bumbling outsider-turned-slave, but no one seemed evil.

But, the darkness that pounded my skull...!

He opened his eyes and looked intently at Ashia, wondering how much of his struggle and confusion she was understanding now, if her power was in knowing people too keenly.

"This can't be happening," he said with a pained sigh, rubbing his dusty brow. "I'm just a regular guy. I want to go home."

[Daca Tserta]

She felt ears burning with embarrassment, even if what Mother Anjali said was true. Daca had cheered loudly, fixated on watching Cearia fight, memorizing her moves to practice later in private. No, she couldn't look up into the face of the woman that hours earlier had playfully scared her and took Daca onto her lap as she fixed her spear. This was entirely different. Most of the clan had watched, the Clan Mother had watched, and this should be a moment between leaders and mates, not placating a young nightgirl's fancy.

"Hei!" Iss-Ka's playful swat against her backside made her jump. Never would she have predicted that happening as she rubbed her butt. She looked to the voritor with a mix of confusion and annoyance as Anjali and Cearia conversed with each other. "Chit don dula Ai dula op gon Yu?"

[Cearia Tserta]

She and her mate exchanged confused looks towards Iss-Ka's behavior. As much as the voritor had taken a shine to Cearia, it took a few meetings before the lizard was comfortable in touching the hunter. Clearly there were no issues in being playful with the nightgirl. Had Iss-Ka been watching the trio of terrors for as long as Cearia had? She had spoke only the truth to the children, that she quietly observed their behavior towards one another and the clan, how they worked and argued together. And now Daca was arguing with Iss-Ka. That was bold.

Anjali's grin caught her attention and presumed her mate was entertained by Daca's reaction.

"Ah ..." She looked down at the child still eying Iss-Ka for answers, who was wiggling her backside as if threatening to pounce. Cearia was truly caught off guard by the childrens antics and her mate's request. "Ai uh ..."

She lowered her head to Anjali, voice humbled. "Ai nou get in taim Ai gon daun na kemper gon bilaik yuj, Kru Nomon."

[Ashia]

She offered a single, firm, nod of confirmation when Spark mentioned the Force. The she was a quiet, patient, presence as the skai slave worked through all of the emotions that went with this new knowledge. After his initial shock wore off, she could feel his mind painfully denying this before the words left his mouth.

"The Force - Magic - is always here. Anyone can be born with the power to use. To feel." She fell silent again as he worked even harder to understand.

As he sighed, Ashia reached out and squeezed his shoulder. All of the destruction she had witnessed and managed to survive, Ashia would never deny a moment of compassion to one of the clan, even if that member was a male slave.

"It is. Home is here now." She lowered her hand and began to finish cleaning his face. "I'm sorry."

[Anjali Raskor]

Iss-Ka gave a mischievous stare at the young witch. She had been watching her, as well as the other children. This one had something that reminded her of her mistress as well as her mistress's mate. And she had noticed how fixated the girl was with the huntress. While the Voritor easily scared others, as most of the Clan kept respectful distance with the still growing creature, they had got used to her to a degree sufficient for Iss-Ka to blend in with greater ease in the last while.

She liked keeping an eye on the Clan as well, and observe the subtle interactions between people. While her mistress had never formally trained her to be her eyes everywhere, the Voritor had naturally taken up such a task, whenever she roamed the enclave.

Anjali was relieved that Cearia seemed as confused by Iss-Ka's behavior as she was. It was concerning nonetheless. She had no idea why the Voritor would do such a thing to this child among everyone else.

"Mae shisholat yu," she explained.

She returned her attention to her mate, quirking a brow at her words.

"Yu ray athhajar, hompleier."

[Kavan Siron]

The trip to the healer's residence was a blur in Kavan's mind. All he focused on was putting one foot in front of the other. The two Brothers were already helpful enough to half drag him there, and he was set on not being a complete burden. He wasn't expecting them to make it any easier for him. Hell he was already shocked in his semi-conscious state that the Hunter had told them to help in the first place, and insisted he got medical attention.

He really just needed to pass out for a few hours.

Part of him was aware he needed to be patched up; but running of medical supplies had been his lot a few times in his life, and given his position as a slave in the clan, he didn't think he was even allowed to receive any attention from the healer.

As they reached Sister Ashia's tent, the brothers brought him in and unceremoniously put him on the floor, where he managed to stay in an upright sitting position.

Small miracles...

His energy was on keeping his painful self together, even as his wounds, especially the cracked rib, was getting more annoying. As for his skull, it felt that it was shattering, over and over again.

In his haze, he suddenly realized the woman was already tending to someone else at the moment. He vaguely registered it was another man, but that was about it.

[Spark Vallen]

Spark heard the bustle of activity just beyond and guessed that Kavan had arrived. He stirred, not wanting to waste the healer's time because that man had actual injuries.

"This magick, the Force... feels... dark. Dangerous. Where I..." he frowned in thought. "Where I came from, the stories were that the darkness was bad. Evil. How can I use that, knowing that?"

He shook his head, drawing back from her touch as she cleaned him up.

"I should go," Spark said, sounding stressed. "You have a more important slave to tend to out there."

He paused and chuckled at the irony of that statement.

[Daca Tserta]

The Voritor liked her? Daca was baffled and looked towards Iss-Ka, head cocked to the side in curiosity and slowly raised a hand to give one small wave in hesitation.

It's not that she didn't believe the clan mother. Mother Anjali was bound to Iss-Ka as warden and beast and she would understand the temperament of the Voritor. What the young nightchild didn't believe is that the mighty lizard wanted to know her.

She was just an orphan. Daca's line was nothing of note and glad to survive. The gods had not called her to the next life and was proud to be part of the Clan. She lived life as freely as possible outside of chores, enjoying how she had her friends ran through the settlement play fighting, and became Cearia's shadow once the hunter joined the Clan.

"Hei, komade bis," she said quietly to not interrupt the conversation between Anjali and Cearia, but had no problem listening intently to their words.

Cearia was strong. The fight proved it. Why was the Great Sister being so modest? As one of the strongest witches of the Clan, she had every right to boast and feel pride.

[Cearia Tserta]

Head still bowed with respect, Cearia heard but did not see the exchange between Iss-Ka and Daca.

"Ai laik glad Ai yuj na koma Yu, Kru Nomon." She paused, feeling the need to justify why there was a spar to begin with. "Ai get in hef wez jos a slav, ba Ai fel hef hav yuj dei de na badan op bilaik kru."

Finally she raised her head and nodded firmly. "Hef shood kik throo triels kom praper granplei."

[Ashia]

Ashia immediately scolded Spark, bopping him on the face with the towel. "Nou! Be helpful. Come."

She crouched before the injured skai slave, gently touching the sides of his face with a scowl and tsked. "Mess. You. What happened?"

The towel she had used to bop Spark in the face started to wipe away the grime and blood from Kavan's. She knew the gash on his forehead would need cleaning and stitching. Once he explained what occurred, she would have the other slave assist in bringing this one to his feet and onto the cot.

[Spark Vallen]

Sighing to himself, Spark rose and followed Ashia over to Kavan.

As she treated him, Spark said dryly, "Kavan decided that challenging Cearia was a good idea. This is the result of that."

He closed his own eyes a moment, remembering that rush of energy that he'd felt, that had nauseated him. Spark fought back from feeling ill again.

"And people think I'm the foolish one."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali was shocked that Iss-Ka had touched the child; and seemed playfully appreciative of her. She knew that it had to be significant; but she couldn't really understand how yet. Time would tell though. That she was sure of.

She chuckled as she watched the girl greet the Voritor. The large lizard swatted her tail on the ground and canted her head to the side. Her attention was all on the girl, as if testing her. She leaned slightly forward and snapped her jaws at the younger witch, before letting a hiss out that was her equivalent of a cackle.

Returning her attention to her mate, she quirked a brow as the huntress explained why she was sparring the slave. There was a slight hint of surprise passing in her eyes; but her stance remained rather stoic.

"Anha shillat yeri ase," she replied without hesitation.

"Alikh haj mahrazhi hash davra."

[Kavan Siron]

Even in his exhaustion, he was willing to wait it out. He didn't know what the other man, an off-worlder like himself, needed. Everyone had to earn their keep around here, and if they could get to the healer, waiting for one's turn seemed normal, especially as he was only a slave.

He was about to mumble what had happened to him as the healer, a young blonde for what he could tell, when the other man answered.

"Hompleier's idea..."

"Anha said... Yes."

Everything hurt; but he had no regret.

[Daca Tserta]

Now Daca couldn't care less what was going on between Clan Mother and Huntress as she enticed by the voritor's behavior.

"Oh sha?" She crouched low to the ground and bared her teeth. "Ai chopa nou laik as ket o feisbonas ba emo stil bash op!"

Her words were playful and smiled afterwards, hoping that she was reading Iss-Ka's behavior right. She had learned a lot being around the wardens as they trained and cared for the rancors and verne while completing her punishment slinging dung. Voritors not so much. Iss-Ka was the only one in the enclave and Daca had not seen one in the wilds yet.

She was hoping that all her limbs would still be intact and no scolding would come from Mother Anjali with how she responded!

[Cearia Tserta]

Her gut was rarely wrong and there was value in the one that called him Kavan. Cearia was glad that her mate valued her opinion on the slave. She knew what it meant to the clan to see someone of her status fight a slave that had not provoked her. Things could have become difficult if Anjali had not agreed with her assessment.

"Mochof, Kru Nomon. Em ste yuj." she said and offered a small bow of her head, but she was quickly distracted by the playful posturing of voritor and nightchild.

She raised a brow when righting herself at the exchange and looked to her equally confused mate.

[Ashia]

Ashia's eyes widened. She had erroneously presumed the slave had done something wrong and was severely punished and not wanting their property to die of infection, the sister ordered him to be brought here.

"Yu gon daun, Grat Sis Cearia!?" she blinked and continued wiping his face. "No wonder hurt bad. Where?"

After several more swipes across his face and forehead, Ashia's hand gently worked along his cheeks, neck, and shoulders - feeling for any broken bones and tilting his face back and forth to discover any further gashes. She picked through his scalp to make sure the blood there was from his face and not another wound. "Where else hurt?"

[Spark Vallen]

At least he wasn't squeamish about blood. That much could be said for Spark Vallen - he neither squirmed nor fainted as he watched and waited as Ashia tended to Kavan. He stood by, waiting for instructions from the healer, not knowing enough about her art - especially here - to just jump in and lend a hand.

As he waited, he mused on what Ashia had told him.

I can feel the Force? That's what this has been all about? That's why they are the way they are... because they're Force sensitive. And... they're not evil... just...

And therein lay his problem. Being no scholar of the Force to begin with, Spark didn't have the knowledge or context to understand since the Dathomiri defied the holodramas typical portrayal of someone who used the Force. They were neither Jedi nor Sith, though the energy here definitely rumbled with darkness that he understood - in theory - to be the Darkside.

But, they're not bad. Not evil.

That was important to the displaced Corellian. Spark understood the clan to have integrity and honor, caring for young and old alike. They didn't behave like Sith (as he understood them, at least) even though there was darkness here.

Spark sighed.

And... this is home now. This place. Dathomir. The clan.

He closed his eyes a moment, letting that truth wash over him, shutting out the conversation between the healer and Kavan. Spark thought of his parents, his friends, and tried to imagine their pain at word that he'd been killed in the ship's explosion. He wondered if Aurelia had heard yet; last he'd heard from her, she was off traveling the galaxy in search of something. He squeezed his eyes closed tighter, grieving for his family and friends who believed him dead, imagining their pain.

Around him, the Force rippled.

He did not shy away from that.

I'm dead, he thought. The man everyone knew... caffeinated, fun-loving, shy Spark... he's gone. Everyone believes that, so it must be so. I'm here... but I'm no longer that guy. Not anymore.

Spark cleared his throat and blinked away tears, letting go of the sense of self he'd clung to here as he'd dreamed of returning to his old life. The darkness lapped at his senses, sharpening his awareness ever so slightly for all that he was a blunt object still. He stomped a booted foot into the dirt and opened his eyes, looking at Ashia, at Kavan. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his blue eyes stormy.

"This is home," he said softly, not so much to them, but to himself, accepting it at last.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali nodded to her wife's observation. While her birth clan didn't give much freedom to its males, she did understand the value of strong men in the clan. That was why she was glad that her mate had found solid potential in the new slave. The clan Mother understood that they all had to blend their different cultural biases and beliefs in order to become stronger and make the best of the blessings of the gods in the fact they had survived but found new lands.

From the corner of her eye, she watched the continuous interaction between the child and Iss-Ka. She couldn't fathom why the Voritor was entertaining the girl. While welcoming Cearia had made sense for she had eventually become the Beast Warden's spouse, the child had no particular significance.

The massive lizard was intrigued by the girl, and fairly amused. She bared her teeth again at Daca and her tail swatted more onto the ground. She crouched more and then suddenly sprung against the girl, just toppling her to the ground, not to harm but as a way to tease her. The Voritor stormed off a dozen meters and looked back at the girl, hissing slowly, nodding towards the tree lines, challenging her to follow her.

Anjali shrugged the whole scene off for now. She trusted that she would eventually figure out what was on Iss-Ka's mind. With the child occupied, it also meant she had her wife all to herself again.

There was no denying she had found her wife's display of skills extremely enticing and the lust that had rose in her back then returned in full force.

"Kishi okre, ajjin. Che tat zalat tat lajat anna ha me?"

The glint in her eyes and the way she reached out and curled her fingers on her beloved's hips made her intentions clear, or so she thought.

[Kavan Siron]

Kavan was barely able to remain conscious but it was a matter of pride to be able to answer the healer's questions. She spoke more Basic than he had expected; and he was very grateful for it.

He nodded to her words and winced as it only made his headache worse.

"Cracked... Tolorro... Rib," he replied, gesturing slowly at his abdomen.

His head and the rib were likely the worst, even though he felt that his body was going to hate him for days to come.

He spared a glance at the other outsider who seemed lost in thoughts. He wondered what was up with him; but he was too exhausted to really pay attention to much.

"Athjilar," he managed to say, even though his accent was even thicker than usual between the pain and exhaustion. Even though the Great Sister had sent him to the healer, he was still grateful for the blonde's help.

[Daca Tserta]

Her body swayed in the same rhythm as the voritor's tale, playfully hissing back. She wasn't trying to push a confrontation but to have fun! Iss-Ka appeared to be enjoying this and Anjali wasn't concerned. So why not push it a little more. She wanted to be brave like the Great Sister!

"WHOA!" Daca was midway to her feet when Iss-Ka lunged at her.

And briefly she thought being brave wasn't such a good idea as she was knocked over. With a yelp, she rolled over and hit the ground but not nearly with as much force as she thought. Iss-Ka hadn't come at her aggressively as she could have and perhaps it was Daca's surprise that created most of the momentum. As she looked up, her curiosity was overwhelming as Iss-Ka was giving her an invitation to follow.

She wasn't sure why this was happening but it was an opportunity. An opportunity that she had to take. There was no question in her mind as she quickly got to her feet to sprint after her and shouted, "Hod op gon Ai!"

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia watched the vibrant nightchild enthusiastically scamper off with a little more skip in her step before going into a full on sprint to try and catch up with the voritor. Twice in one day she got to be acknowledged by the Great Sister, which made it worth being embarrassed in front Mother Anjali.

A thin smile briefly flickered along the hunter's lips, thinking on her earlier interaction with Daca and the other two nightchildren when Anjali's voice brought the hunter's mind back to the present.

She looked to her mate, puzzled by her words. "Ai nou get em. Chomouda dula op Yu gaf in gon gonplei ai odon when Oso ban op, Kru Nomon?"

[Ashia]

"No move. Only I move you," she said firmly and gently brought Kavan's head back to where they were eye level. "Head and rib?"

She paused, humming in thought. "Gods give you luck not worser."

Satisfied with his explanation of what needed mending, she looked to the other slave for assistance and noticed the same as Kavan. She felt his loss that ran so deep that it made Ashia shudder with unexplained mourning that her eyes began to rim with tears. The emotional pain of the one slave was just as profound as the physical pain the other suffered through.

His boot crackling small stones and dirt under his boot jolted Ashia into awareness, forcing back tears as she blinked into focus.

"Yes. Sha. This is home. Dison laik hou." She spoke his language then hers so he could learn the language, and did it with far more compassion then any of the sisters who interacted with him.

"And fellow skai man need help. Come." She waved him over with quick hands. "Kom op. Kom op."

This was accepted his fate but needed focus and purpose as he digested this new information. Helping her would be a good bridge for that as she looked at Kavan.

"Pro. Welcome ... Tho not welcome me for long. Moving you will hurt. Lots." She studied him. "Can you move at all?"

[Spark Vallen]

Spark gave a brusque nod then, a flinty look about him, approaching the pair.

"Just let me know what you want me to do," he said.

After all, while he may be resolved to his fate, he was still Spark the bumbling skai man who didn't know how to do a lot of the tasks that one needed to do on this hostile planet.

[Anjali Raskor]

As much as Anjali was eager to understand what drew Iss-Ka to the child, she knew that she wouldn't get answers right there and then.

She chuckled at the look of surprise on her mate's face, upon her teasing. It wasn't the first time that such things flew over her beloved's head. She found it endearing rather than annoying.

She let the title fly as they were in public. She knew how to pick her battles.

"Jin dirge ki lajat yer makes anna zala yer akka alikh, anna athfiezar."

She definitely had plans....

[Kavan Siron]

Kavan gave a faint and painful nod to the healer's instructions.

"Cha," he confirmed to his head and rib being a mess and what needed medical attention.

He frankly didn't believe in gods and stuff; but he wasn't going to argue with the local beliefs. To each their own, that's how he had always felt about that. As long as nobody tried to change his lack of spiritual beliefs, they could worship whatever they wanted.

He'd have to talk to the other foreigner at some point. It wasn't as if they really had time to socialize as slaves anyway. It just made sense that they might get acquainted, even though the blond guy seemed quite confused and distressed.

When the healer returned her attention to him, he was okay a the thought of pain.

"Gona... Gou mago," he explained, so she wouldn't worry about him.

"Cha," he replied tentatively about the possibility of moving. He felt as if he was going to pass out again; but the rough help of the brothers on the way to the tent had given him the smallest modicum of rest.

[Ashia]

With a nod, she beckoned Spark closer. "Grab other side and help move. To table."

Ashia waited until he was in position and caught his gaze. With another curt nod, they heaved Kavan to his feet and half dragged, half escorted him, to the table. She firmly encouraged him to lay down with a push against his sternum.

"Bring me needle and stitching. And the jar filled with red paste," she said to Spark and resumed cleaning Kavan's face.

The gash was deep enough to need a few stitches after properly cleaning it out. Picking up a clean cloth and a wooden bite block, she offered the later to Kavan. "Take."

[Spark Vallen]

Spark nodded tersely and went to follow Ashia's orders, his mind curiously empty now. He searched for a moment to find the items the healer was looking for, glanced back at her and Kavan, then carried them back.

"Here you are," he said.

[Kavan Siron]

Kavan had no idea how he was still grasping at the last shreds of energy he could find to remain semi-conscious. When he would think about it later, he would realize it wasn't the first time he had pushed himself more than normal humans and survived. Such feats didn't mean he would come out of them unscathed, as his current broken rib and assorted injuries proved; but he was still breathing.

Maybe if he had had more strength and that it had been under other circumstances, he would have tried to be rash and cocky; but for now he used the wooden bite block without the slightest argument. He was grateful for the healing attention, and all he needed to do was to do what told, and let the blonde Sister, with the help of the other foreigner, do what she had to.