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Naunet · **12-16-2013, 02:45 AM**

K'ailia's unexpected entrance brought up short K'piru's attempt at escape, and she stumbled back from the girl as K'ile moved to pull K'ailia away. She shook, tremors visibly shivering down from her shoulders to her tail and shaking her hands, which she wrapped about opposite arms tightly, hugging herself. K'ile spoke but she did not hear him.

K'ailia's words echoed in her head ceaselessly, but the young girl's voice transformed, shifted pitch and tone until it was sickeningly familiar. It was K'airos's voice, bright and as piercing as sunlight, but twisted with pain.

It hurts...

She turned as though to hide, found only the tent walls, and spun back around only to see K'airi, much younger than she had been when she'd left with the others for battle, in K'ailia's place. The image held for only a second before flickering away like a ghost, but it was enough to take the strength from her legs.

She didn't know what K'luha or K'ailia were doing here; she didn't ask.

Nauta Lyehga · **12-16-2013, 02:54 AM**

K'luha sat nervously, her eyes darting around the tent. Why were they out here? Didn't they know that they were needed? Didn't they care? K'luha was too afraid to ask. K'yohko had asked them earlier to let the two of them have their privacy, but he never said why. She had heard K'thalen and K'piru's daughters died however, and that was enough for K'luha to give K'piru her space to mourn. But surely, K'piru would return when she was done mourning, right? She would do what K'luha had done and mourn before coming back, and that idea held Luha at bay from asking many questions about K'piru. As for K'ile... he seemed angry she was even here in the first place. She did not miss the aura that she was intruding upon something important, nor the aura that he could not care less for her or any of her worries... or really anything at all.

She watched for a moment as he pulled an arm across the sand and dragged K'ailia into the light. K'luha's ears stood up tall and she immediately leaned forward to touch K'ailia's cheek. Again, K'luha didn't miss the faint undercurrent of impatience and what sounded almost like anger. It made her ears fall flat. Wasn't he family? Had she done something wrong? All she had tried to do was help but...

"I-i'm sorry..." K'luha stumbled over her words again, reaching over to try and pull K'ailia into her arms so she might walk away with her daughter. Walk away from the people who didn't want them there for whatever reason. But it hurt just as much as everything else did that the two didn't seem to care about anyone else. "I-i'm no good w-with healing o-or bandages. S-so it's g-gotten w-worse and I-i... I-i'm sorry." The words were spilling out of her mouth like the tears had spilled from her eyes. "W-we're going." Luha finally finished, shifting to try and take K'ailia away from the tent and back to the tribe. Even cold K'yohko was not as frigid as the tent with K'ile and K'piru, and that was more frightening than the sky falling upon them to K'luha.

Kailia · **12-16-2013, 03:31 AM**

K'ailia felt herself being pulled and was instantly confused. But even she caught the tone K'ile was using and her ears flattened against her head. When her mother took her, it was comforting. She hoped wherever her mother was taking her, it was away from the one with the mean voice. She hoped it would be to someone that would make her feel better as she finally cluched her mothers clothes and closed her eyes.

It hurt less then in the blackness. But even the blackness would flash memories of the fires raining down. She could hear the screams of dying family. But try as she might, she could do nothing.

Twinflame · **12-16-2013, 04:31 AM**

K'ile Tia truly could not have had less concern for the suffering of K'luha and her daughter. It did not escape that this was a twisted and callous sentiment. At other times in his life, he had known great sympathy for them, and been very protective of K'luha, because he knew that the woman had already suffered a great deal of loss. But K'luha had K'yohko, and K'ailia had K'yohko, and if he wasn't taking care of them, then what was K'ile to do? He had K'piru to worry about, and nobody but him could do for her what was needed.

Ignoring the woman's protests, K'ile uttered a simple, "Go back to K'yohko and the others. They will help you." And with that, he turned away from them, seeking out K'piru in the darkness. He found her retreated, recoiled, far away, and moved to approach her.

Nauta Lyehga · **12-16-2013, 04:42 AM**

K'luha could have said something about K'yohko helping them, but she didn't. She had choice words in any normal circumstance to K'yohko's helpfulness, but indeed these weren't any circumstances. K'luha was afraid though. She was afraid of how fixated K'ile seemed on K'piru. On just how shell-shocked K'piru seemed to be. Would K'piru make it? Would she be able to live on? What if K'ile just took her away and the two left? What would happen without their shaman and fire-dancer? K'luha was very afraid that it might happen, but she tried to push that fear away. Surely they were family. Surely they were upset but, they would think about the rest of their family before themselves... right?

K'ile's response was anything but helpful in her attempt to stabilize her faith in her family. For a fire dancer... he really was frigid. Luha gathered up K'ailia in her arms and stood with some effort. Her ankle seemed to have pulled or something when she fell, because it hurt terribly to stand on it. But to say anything in front of K'ile and K'piru now... She was too afraid to linger any longer. She moved from the tent and paused at the flap to look back at them.

"We're family too.... if... you wanted us to help you.. we would..." K'luha said this very quietly before skittering out of the tent. She wasn't wanted, and she certainly didn't want to linger there. Instead she tried to coo out comforts to K'ailia and pulled a strip of fabric from her clothing to cover her daughter's burnt head like a bandana.

Naunet · **12-16-2013, 02:22 PM**

K'piru did not look up when K'ile approached, nor when K'luha made her fearful exit. She'd shut her eyes and turned away from the others and now sat in a corner at the back of the tent, bowed over her knees. When K'luha and her daughter's scents faded, there came some relief, but the memories they had stirred remained as raw and bleeding as ever.

Little K'ailia's burns became K'airos's burns, and K'airi's. And Thalens. K'luha's panic echoed and intensified her own, even after the woman left, and a low, faint moan, the desperate sound of a wounded animal, broke from her throat.

When K'aijeen had left, K'piru had thought she'd crumble, both from the pain of losing a daughter and the guilt over the relief she had felt, relief that she no longer had to live in terror over what her daughter might do next. But she'd had her girls, and Thalen, then. They buoyed her, recalled to her a purpose and a family.

But now...

Her eyes cracked open, red and wet, and peered sideways at K'ile. "They will... They will be alright, if I..." she trailed off, suddenly afraid of speaking what she had just considered, ashamed and terrified, but desperate.

Twinflame · **12-16-2013, 02:46 PM**

Taking K'piru by either shoulder, K'ile knelt in front of her once more. At this point it felt like almost ritual supplicationg. Before K'luha had entered, he'd thought that, maybe, he had almost convinced K'piru that they were going to be alright. If her greatest concern were K'yohko's accusations, and those meant nothing, then K'ile would be able to hold onto her. But now the Shaman seemed disturbed by K'luha and K'ailia, their selfish panic and pain impressing themselves on the woman.

"They're going to be fine," he said. "They'll pull through, just like you and I will. You can take your time, rest, don't worry. I'll be here to take care of everything."

K'haali · **12-16-2013, 06:59 PM**

Meanwhile, hidden from sight of the scarred camp, a crumbling, scorched stone bounced across the sands towards the faint plume that was once Dalamud, still lingering as a haze high above the horizon even so long after it had erupted into fire and destruction. K'haali right now felt rather like the stone, trapped in a sea of sand. Surrounded by strangers with familiar faces, yet completely disconnected and alone among them.

Another stone bounced across the sand, gouging a scar out behind it

When the tribe wanted to help the outsiders in their war, she'd protested. It was a war between outsiders, it was never the tribe's business getting involved in it. For all their bravado, war was a place where men killed each other, and she didn't want to see any of her extended family die, least of all for a fight that wasn't theirs.

They had of course ignored her protests, reassured her that they were going to "kick the Garleans right back to whatever continent they came from and wouldn't take a scratch doing it", K'thalen wearing that grin that spoke of limitless confidence. She wanted to believe them, but the glow of Dalamud by night said otherwise - if they had the power to bring down a moon, how strong were the Garleans in battle?Â

An uncontrolled sniffle, and staggered attempt at a deep breath heralded another stone, an avian head, tilted quizzically tracking it's flight.

When they left anyway, she'd rejected the platitudes of the tribe and instead sat vigil with only K'weh for company, curled up together, watching the horizon as long as Azemya would permit; sometimes even taking food with her. Watching for some sign Dalamud and it's controlling army had been defeated.Â

A stone is sent flying at the fine haze that was once Dalamud with as much force as she could muster, as if trying to send the stone back in time and knock it out the sky before the calamity could unfold.

Of course, it didn't work; Dalamud had still exploded in a conflagration of molten rock that seemed to tower all the way to the heavens, with a sound that almost shook the world from it's foundations... that alone had been enough to send Haali screaming, seeking shelter beneath the jagged rocks behind where she sat vigil, out of sight of the battle.Â

Could she have warned her mother, dragged her to the rocks too? Probably not, she must have seen the flames too there was no way anyone in Eorzea could have missed it, and it seemed like no time at all had passed before that dark shadow flew overhead and the desert turned to fire; the hunters had not only involved the tribe in a battle was not their's, but now it seemed they'd brought the Garlean's wrath upon their men, women and children in retaliation.

She curled her knees up to her chin and leaned back into K'weh's feathers as if trying merge with it and disappear from the world completely.

Mercifully, unlike so many others, K'nirha was not awake to suffer, instead rendered insensate by the firestorm that had left her burned almost head to toe, much of her hair gone, and scalp peeling. Carried to the makeshift infirmary she'd been left on her own while others busied themselves tending to their kin. There K'haali had been left to tend to her mother alone, she felt completely overwhelmed; the adult members of the tribe had been rendered to a juvenile state, sobbing, wailing and flailing helplessly against the situation. Deaf to any of her polite pleas for any kind've assistance.

She'd eventually fallen asleep, still holding K'nirha's hand, and had been nudged awake by K'piru tending to her mother after what seemed like an eternity.

Much of the sobbing had stopped and a degree of order had settled as everyone sat vigil with their kin, the look on K'piru's face however betrayed what she was thinking, making no attempt to hide it unaware she was being watched.

Suddenly, alert to K'haali's presence she'd turned and pressed her hand to her cheek warmly, trying to appear hopeful before quickly moving on to the next patient.

Closing her eyes she tried retreat to a comfortable spot in her mind with just her and K'weh surrounded by warm feathers.

Anxious days dragged by, with no sign of the victorious hunters. They'd have the answers, they were the tribes best and brightest; K'thalen'd be there with a huge grin and crates of medical supplies taken from the defeated Garleans as loot.Â

But when they arrived back that evening the mood remained just as dark, no celebrations, just a thin trickle of beaten and burned miqo'te, looking defeated; most directed to the makeshift infirmary midst the skeletal remains of the tents, still standing as no effort could be spared to remove them.

K'haali'd kept looking around urgently, inspecting every new arrival, meeting their gaze, asking, trying to find Thalen or any of her family that'd joined the war party. But they just kept looking through her, pretending she was invisible, or hadn't heard her.

It didn't work, even with her eyes closed the world around her still wouldn't go away. K'weh seemingly aware of her anxiety butted his head against hers.

When she returned to infirmary, her mother was gone, in every sense of the word, and the space on the tarp now occupied by one of the recently arrived hunters. She sat there, silently, next to the new arrival, both seemingly oblivious to each others presence while her mind raced with the possibilities, seeking answers - where had they taken her, was she ok, where is father, uncles, aunts...

"Where is everybody!?"

...she realised she'd shouted that out loud, and drawn the attention of everyone at the infirmary, as she'd made her way to find K'piru and word of her mother. Looking back sheepishly, she turned to walk away, only to plant her face squarely into the bandaged chest of K'yohko, who'd come to talk to her.

Another stone flew out from the mound of yellow feathers, though K'ile was fortuitously not in it's path as intended.

Unaware that neither K'ile nor K'piru had spoken to K'haali yet; his condolences had rather a different effect than he intended and she'd disappeared into the night in a trail of incoherent sobbing.Â

For the first time in her life, K'haali felt like a stranger among the tribe. When her mother was dying they'd ignored her for their immediate kin. When the hunters came back, they'd ignored her pleas for information. When she needed know where her mother had gone, K'piru was nowhere to be found. Even K'ile, her uncle, the one closest to her father hadn't come to her; that had fallen to K'yohko of all the people.Â

K'weh's head snapped to attention, and peered over the rock under which they were sheltered, back at the skeletal remains of the camp, barely a stones throw away.Â

For all the good running away would do though, the tribe was all she knew... she'd just have to make herself useful.

Clover · **12-17-2013, 04:25 PM**

K'mih Yohko was a lucky Miqo'te. She survived the calamity.

As desolation engulfed the camp after the flames, the 11 years old girl didn't leave her mother's comforting side. Around her, only tears and sorrow coloured the canvas of what was left of her tribe. The place she used to call home no longer felt as such; faces she used to know were no longer recognizable. Her family had become smaller, and the reason was still unknown to her.

She didn't know the sky could burn like that. She didn't know that the world could suddenly break.

Oh, but she was a lucky Miqo'te. The people she most cared for had survived, they were safe. Her mother, her sister K'nahli, and her father. Then she'd look around her, at all the loss she wouldn't know how to cope with, and tears would start flowing from her eyes again. "Don't cry, K'mih", her mother's soft voice would tell her, a pair of loving arms offering all the comfort she needed.

K'mih was unsure, couldn't tell, if those were tears of sadness or tears of joy.

===========================================

Kâ€™rahto Tia was an unlucky Miqoâ€™te. He survived the calamity.

The 13 years old boy was out of his tent when everything began, training with deadly determination and broken pride. He was just a kid, there was no way he could have gone to war with his fellow Miqoâ€™tes, and he hated it. He hated being so small, so helpless. None of those emotions compared, however, to the sight of a burning sky as fire started descending upon his home. Heâ€™d run to his tent as fast as his legs allowed, only to turn his fears into a reality.

That night, heâ€™d lost his mother, and likely his father as well.

When the world stopped shaking and sadness played its tragic tune, he was found away from the group, away from his sisterâ€™s comfort. The feeling of helplessness had never been as devastating and uncontrollable as it was that night; he just didnâ€™t want anyone to see him cry. And cry he did, with hatred and anger and poison.

Heâ€™d become a man for his people. A strong man. That night, however, he was just a very unlucky kid.

K'nahli · **12-17-2013, 04:42 PM**

The vicious, bellowing of the young miqo'te's name continued to echo behind her as she fleeted off into the concealing, darkness of the night, putting more and more distance between herself and the familiar tone of a distraught mother as her nimble legs continued carrying her forward into the camouflaging blackness. K'nihqa had forbade her to leave her side since that day, told her that everything would be alright so long as she did not disobey her, but words were not enough to convince her daughter. In the past week she had simply sat by and bore witness as her family was slowly torn apart by grief and inward conflict. Yet her insignificant existence, a mere thirteen year old who could barely hold notable worth to her tribe was one of very few who escaped mostly unscathed. It was rottenly unjust.

The moment that her mother's wails of despair had fallen out of earshot, the girl sought momentary refuge behind a large, blackened rock that towered grossly out from the dense, soot-ridden Sagolii sands. A detestable fragment of the star that consumed all and left nothing but a fiery destruction in its wake.
K'nahli took the chance to regain her breath while remaining out of sight. Her mother didn't seem to have had any idea of where she had run off to, but it was no excuse for carelessness; she knew that she could not waste what would certainly be her only opportunity. Scratched hands, blackened from soot and smoke alike, gingerly brushed over her burning cheek, seeking out counterpart wounds that would better fit her circumstance. Though nothing of favour was found.
Why? Why did she have to be spared the horrors that so many of her family had to endure? What was it that deemed her to be 'worthy' of loitering in ill-necessity of medical aid?
Paled irises searched the ground beneath her feet for answers as another pang of guilt pulsed outward from her stomach. She threw her head upward in an attempt to recover herself from such thoughts. They were self-destructive, a crippling state of mind that would only slow her down. She could not think about such things now. She looked forward once more, eyeing the devastated scenery around her hesitantly before pushing herself away from the rock to commence running once more.

Her nimble feet carried her swiftly through the makeshift encampment, knowing their destination, though not the path to get there. K'nahli frantically looked about herself as she searched for something that might hint towards where he might be staying. He came back, she knew he did.Â
Her pale, pink eyes continued to dart desperately from side to side, finding only desolation and grief in place of a once proud and powerful tribe.

She came to an abrupt stop as she chose to investigate a nearby tent. She peeked inside with a naive expression of hope, only to be met with angered faces and others of newly found grief. She retreated, running around once again to continue her search.

- "I need to see him, I need to make sure hes not hurt!" -
- "You will do no such thing. Its not safe for you to go running about" -
- "I won't! I promise! I just need to make sure hes okay, I'll be quick, I..-" -
- "No, K'nahli!" -

The faint resonance of her mothers scoldings rang aloud in her skull. Each sentence reminisced causing K'nahli to grow more frantic in her search.
Another large tent that fell into her vision was the next subject of her investigation, though that tent would also yield no results.

- "Why are you being like this?! I just want to see him!" -
- "Arguing with me will not change my mind, K'nahli. The tribe, you..." -
- ".....?" -
- "Someone your age... a child, should not have to witness what is out there" -
- "........" -

A number of other tents and yet still no satisfying answers were found.

- "...I am not a child; you need not shelter me from reality, mother.." -
- "....I'm sorry, K'nahli" -

Where could he be? He came home, right? He's here, isn't he?

- "I NEED to see him, he's my....." -

A dimly illuminated tent a short distance away suddenly caught her attention. It was the largest one she had seen thusfar and surely where the wounded were being cared for. K'nahli wasted no time in dashing directly for it, as if drawn to it by some unseen force. This was where she would find him. She was sure of it.

Quickly arriving outside, the girl drew in a deep, choking breath of the smokey air before pushing her way inside.

- ".....my... friend..." -

Her silent form spectated quietly as she watched the unfamiliar figure of her father lean over a makeshift bed while tending to a male patient, both their faces hidden from view. A powerful wave of discomfort radiated outward from the girl's stomach. As if trapped in an eternal fall, she stood by the entrance in silence, too afraid to approach should she see what she feared the most. Her breathing slowly grew more rapid, still silent however, as her eyes dilated widely in fear.

("Its not...") she desperately tried to encourage herself to think optimistically, her words barely holding any weight upon her troubled mind, however.
("Its not him....") her thoughts, sounding almost like an alien guest narrating for her, offered further reassurance once more, giving her the courage she needed to finally push herself to take her first, apprehensive step forward.

Her frail hands were clasped shakily together before her chest as she slowly crept forward. The two men slowly coming within touching distance, but the patient, still momentarily shielded from view.

"F-Fath...." her voice croaked as she struggled to call out to the preoccupied and heavily wounded nuhn.

He was bandaged and bruised all over. His previously, strong and immovable form was destroyed from the unspeakable horrors that had claimed savage to his body. He looked unwell, unfit to move the young girl thought. Yet here he was, tending to others to the best of his ability. It was a brave sight, but also so painfully tragic.

"Father...." she finally managed to speak, pausing briefly, almost as if pronouncing the word alone had sapped all of her strength. Her eyes searched for her father's desperately, hoping that his placid glance would grant her mind the solace she so gravely needed. In those short moments that she awaited her father to turn and look back at her, a time that felt like a nerve-shattering eternity to the young miqo'te, she prayed silently for his solid reassurance that everything would be alright.

If anyone else could make her feel safe right now, it was him.

Nauta Lyehga · **12-17-2013, 09:13 PM**

The burns were bad. He was among the worst injured. It was surprising he had held on as long as he had... K'yhaega. He was a good man. It pained K'yohko now to clean his burned face as much as possible. He was nearly unrecognizable now. Or perhaps it was just because K'yohko was so tired. His vision had been blurry the last few days, but it was only getting worse with each hour he remained awake. Someone had to do this. Someone had to bury them all. He was the only person who hadn't yet fallen to pieces it seemed either.

K'yohko turned his head when he heard a small voice calling nervously for her father. He recognized her instantly as K'nahli. His face was worn and battered and dirty, but his eyes remained as still and stony as ever. Although he was sad and torn, he was for the most part, unchanged. K'nahli could see the tiredness and sadness in his eyes, but there was also a strength behind them. He had to be strong for everyone. It was something he had accepted.

"K'nahli..." he called back her name softly and stood. He stepped towards his daughter before kneeling in front of her and moving to take her hands. "Your mother didn't want you in here. Do you need me? Or are you looking for someone?" K'yohko knew whom she was looking for. He was not so disengaged from his family that he did not know what they were up to. He had watched K'yhaega teach K'nahli to hunt. He had watched them become close, sometimes too close for his own liking. But never had K'yhaega done anything to earn K'yohko's dislike or mistrust, and so he allowed it to happen. But now... he was sure that K'nahli was here to find K'yhaega. How could he tell her that the brutally maimed body in front of her was him? How could he tell that to his thirteen year old daughter?

K'nahli · **12-17-2013, 11:02 PM**

Fear... sadness... anxiety...... grief and even hatred. Despite K'yohkos best efforts, he was unable to conceal these feelings from her. His emotions lay completely dormant across both his features and body language, though deep within his clear, amethyst eyes his torn soul spoke true of his silent grief. Never before had she seen her father like this, it would have been impossible for her to even imagine had she not witnessed it here and now. For someone who, for all her life, had been a personification of a rock; solid, strong and resilient to even the wildest of storms, it was frightening for the girl to finally see that even he was scarred on the inside, beaten down and for the first time in his life, a victim.

"I...I was just...." she tried to answer her father. Her voice was shaky, though a little more collected than before.

She knew that there was no need for her to finish her sentence, however. Her father's question had been rhetorical, he knew the answer already. He always had the answers, had it been for her or any of his other daughters. He was not the easiest person to be around at times, but there was no-one who could make her feel as safe as he did.

K'nahli's eyes quickly averted away from her fathers as the face of the bedridden male had finally been unveiled from behind the blockading form of K'yohko's battered body. A panicked breath slipped past her lips as the brutality of the male's wounds burned into her mind. It was grotesque, his face didn't appear recognisable yet at the same time, he felt somehow.. familiar. The pallid, pink colour of her eyes caused them to gleam brightly against the gloomy candlelight that flickered a short distance behind her father as she studied the patient fearfully for a few more seconds, before the image became too much for the young girl to handle. They quickly flicked back again, returning to the safety of her father's, only to briefly scan sideward to the immobilized male a couple of times more as though verifying that his horrible wounds were in fact genuine. She couldn't imagine the pain he must have felt. She didn't want to.

"K...K'yhae....ga..." she finally spluttered out as her wavering eyes traveled down toward her feet anxiously. Initially she had sought comfort in her father's eyes, but seeing him the way he was... they offered her no peace. He was still strong, and doing well to retain his stoic appearance, but she couldn't handle even the slightest sign of weakness in his eyes. It steadily consumed the dwindling hope that lingered within her.

"I need to find h-him, I need to... make sure...." she added grievously, her head still hung low as her eyes darted from side to side nervously.

She shut her eyes tightly as a deep breath was drawn in, an attempt to grant herself the strength to continue speaking. Her glance rose up now, pale eyes meeting once again with the contrasting dark of his, created through the smokey shadows that cast under that of her father's brow.

"Please tell me..."

Nauta Lyehga · **12-18-2013, 05:04 AM**

K'yohko followed his daughter's eyes, the small movements of her face and body. She gave up all her thoughts with small movements. Even though K'nahli was quiet, she was like an open book. K'yohko could see her fear, her anxiety, her frustration and grief. It was in the way her ears twitched, the way her tail movement, and the color of her eyes. And of course, the way she breathed in so sharply on seeing K'yhaega's maimed body. But he was beyond recognition. Had he not been able to talk before he died, they might have never been able to figure out who it was.

The nunh felt his heart shatter a bit further with his daughter's plea. 'Please tell me...' The words echoed around numbly in his skull for a few moments before he realized it. What words could possible make this better? There were no words. They were useless things. Useless before such torrential grief and loss and horror. Instead, K'yohko did something he had never done before. He reached forward and took his daughter in his arms and pressed her against his chest in a firm hug.

"I'm sorry K'nahli." He whispered quietly, closing his eyes and holding K'nahli still. He was prepared for her to struggle against him, but he was not going to let her run. She was going to stay with him until she calmed down. Until her mother came, or until K'nahli realized the man with such horrific wounds was K'yhaega.

K'nahli · **12-18-2013, 02:33 PM**

A small gasp could be heard as the nuhn's strong, protective arms wrapped around his daughter in a tender embrace. His heartfelt apology echoed throughout the young girl's head as though the words held no meaning to her, failing to interpret what an unhindered mind would immediately understand. Her conscious had already began putting up defensive barriers in an attempt to shield itself from any unwanted truths.

K'nahli's arms hung loosely by her sides as she stared blankly past her father. Her wavering eyes had grown noticeably, more watery as she steadily drew closer to being on the brink of tearing up. Her muscles tensed slightly as her arms slowly rose upward as though being drawn by a puppeteer's strings until they eventually came to gently grip her father's. His skin was gritty, matted with both dried and fresh blood that was saturated with countless, rough grains of sand that stuck stubbornly throughout. Small, untended-to lacerations could still be felt beneath the concealing carpet of darkened crimson all across those large arms that offered her their unrelenting protection.

"Wh-Wh-What do you m-mean?" a small voice finally escaped her throat as the tips of her fingers gently pressed into his skin, anchoring against his arms lightly as though it were a weak attempt to squeeze the answers out of him. His unusual behaviour was making the girl increasingly more nervous. Once again, he was slowly draining the small, remnant of hope that she still clung to as he gripped her small form tenderly.

"I'm t-tired, f-f-father... no-one will t-tell me an-anyth-ing...." the girl croaked pitifully as she slowly turned her head, twisting herself more deeply into her father's comforting embrace as her face nuzzled into his shoulder, bringing her voice closer now.

"I'm tired of not knowing..."

Nauta Lyehga · **12-18-2013, 02:49 PM**

How could he tell K'nahli? How could not tell her? K'yohko gripped her more firmly and inhaled deeply for a moment. He had to tell her.

"He just passed away a few minutes ago from his burns." The answer was solemn, but steady. K'yohko knew from where she was, she had seen the body. "He's just behind us." K'yohko added after a moment's silence. He wasn't sure if he should have said that or not, but knowing his daughter, she would want to know. She would want proof, to see her mentor one last time. "I'm sorry K'nahli." Never had words felt so significant and meaningless at the same time. His apology could never make up for what she had lost. For what the tribe was losing. And yet without those words, he couldn't tell her what she had lost in the first place.

It was all K'yohko could do to subdue his daughter in a strong embrace, and hope that some day time would heal all of their wounds. But he knew better than that. Time could never heal this wound. But it could soften it perhaps.

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The Dunes Would Bury Them [[pre-2.0, Hipparion Tribe, ooc welcome]]

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