With one hand on her wrist still, K'ile placed his other open K'piru's shoulder, and at these two points he clutched at and very slightly shook the woman. "K'yohko is a liar!" he hissed. "He's a coward. He's wrong! He'll be sorry when his senses return. You've done nothing wrong." Â None of this was fair. Not the loss, and not the wounds, and not the accusations. It was...
"Don't worry about him," the Tia said, his voice begging. "You still have the tribe, and you have me. You have a family still. I'll even challenge Yohko to be Nunh, if you need me to! If it... helps... if it's..."
The tent was torn open, and a gust of death and grief washed in and wrapped the Tia and the shaman. There was the compartively subtle sound of shouting, and movement, the feeling of thrown sand against his skin, a flash of morning light over his shoulders to light up K'piru's thin frame for an instant.
An unfamiliar body collided with his back, but he recognized her scent: one of K'yohko's women. He flinched away from her, his motion as though trying to protect K'piru from this very non-threatening entrance, and moved one hand to push her off of him. "K'luha! What!"
"Don't worry about him," the Tia said, his voice begging. "You still have the tribe, and you have me. You have a family still. I'll even challenge Yohko to be Nunh, if you need me to! If it... helps... if it's..."
The tent was torn open, and a gust of death and grief washed in and wrapped the Tia and the shaman. There was the compartively subtle sound of shouting, and movement, the feeling of thrown sand against his skin, a flash of morning light over his shoulders to light up K'piru's thin frame for an instant.
An unfamiliar body collided with his back, but he recognized her scent: one of K'yohko's women. He flinched away from her, his motion as though trying to protect K'piru from this very non-threatening entrance, and moved one hand to push her off of him. "K'luha! What!"