RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

Xha'li Moui · **08-04-2014, 04:14 PM**

Speaking softly so as not to overly disturb K'zhumi Xha'li said, "I take it we'll be leaving soon?"Â Turning his attention towards K'yohko he explained, "I only say we as for at least the next few suns my aether is keeping this tia alive by standing in for torn blood vessels in his chest.Â His recently healed bout of aether sickness means its unlikely I'll be able to coax his own limited aether to flow and take over for mine, and if I get to far away the aether would fade and spill his lifesblood out into his chest."Â Putting his arms back to support himself he reclined slightly, "I've got enough supplies to for a few weeks yet so you needn't worry about having an extra mouth to feed, all I ask in exchange is for a place for my chickabo to rest on one of the carts when he needs it."

K'nahli · **08-07-2014, 08:44 PM**

("But then... why is..")

K'nahli's eyes skimmed over K'rahto unconsciously as she searched her thoughts for another explanation, though even had she managed to find one she truly doubted that it would have allowed her heart to rest even slightly until she confirmed it for herself.
Blinking, she looked directly at him once again.

"...excuse me a moment.." the girl spoke with an apprehensive belligerence as she moved toward K'rahto to peer through the entrance of which he so obediently guarded. Her maroon eyes flicked to briefly meet with his amber glare, seeking to anticipate any opposition that the tia was often so eager to deliver, before they were quickly withdrawn again and focused toward the tent's entrance.

Her hand gingerly reached forward to lightly grip around the opening in the flaps. Though her appearance and determination outwardly appeared to be no different from moments before, there was a subtle hesitation evident through the pace and tenderness of her actions as her heart began to thump even harder against the inside of her weakening chest.

As she finally found the strength to lightly cast the fabric aside and reveal the tent's interior to herself, a faint but distinct voice immediately caught the girl's attention.

"K'mih..."

(".....?")

This strange, intensifying feeling that was causing her heart to both ache and race so uncomfortably...

"....Thank you. You've done well."

K'nahli's presence had never seemed weaker as it stalked quietly from the tent's entrance, a dark and featureless shadow, hidden against the tangerine light that gleamed in around and past her to dimly illuminate the tent's interior. An unusual darkness seemed to be cast over her deceptively neutral expression as the girl watched her father offer her younger sister a tenderness and sense of gratitude that she, herself, had gone so long since she had last seen offered to her. The vibrance in her eyes seemed to fade to nothing, drowned out by the saturated light that outshone them and a somber expression that had been so quickly dampened into neutrality. Her gaze seemed to lose focus and yet, all that she could see was that perfect image of a once familiar father and a more-lovable daughter.

A sharp pain sliced through K'nahli's heart as, for the first time in her entire life, she felt a passionate, choking venom for her younger sister. A burning rush of envy surged through the girl with a remarkable discretion that took all of the girl's strength and will to simply resist from showing any sign of weakness and discomfort in response to such a cruel and mocking scene. Her eyes strained torturously as the girl so considerately resolved not to scowl. Her fingers itched furiously as she so kindly fought to deny their pleas to dig and inflict a vengeful pain into her sweaty palms. And her throat, her throat had closed itself off so defiantly as it instinctively guarded against the near-uncontainable animosity that screamed to be released from the unexplored depths of the young girl's heart.

("This isn't K'mih's fault...") she tried to tell herself.
("K'mih... she did nothing wrong, she didn't...")

...but no matter how hard the girl tried to bat away her own guilty thoughts in that moment, it only proved to be a futile attempt.
Her heart knew not of rationality. Everything else had been swiftly drowned out.

Almost as quickly as she had appeared, the ghostly presence of a blue-haired girl had suddenly vanished outside once again without so much as a sound to formerly announce that her presence there had even existed. If anyone had even noticed her there, she didn't know... it didn't matter, it really didn't. There was nothing that made sense back there, nothing.

Nothing.

K'nahli simply resumed walking, her expression a forced facade of non-affliction but her aura anything but undisturbed. She faced herself forward, toward the dune she had initially sought out, though everything seemed to have fallen out of focus as the girl silently battled against acknowledging her own emotions.
She wasn't bothered. Why would she be? Nothing unusual had been seen in there, nothing.
After all, what did it matter if he preferred K'mih? That's very normal. Everyone likes K'mih, especially more than K'nahli. So too did it apply to her father it seemed. That's still normal, it's okay. Why wouldn't it be okay?
It's normal for her to try for her father while K'mih... precious.. little.. K'mih doesn't need to, right?
Yes... It is normal.... Everything she saw was just so normal... and so completely fair...

K'nahli stopped in her tracks as, miraculously, a non-self absorbed thought managed to creep it's way into the storm that was brewing within her mind. She hesitated a moment as she prepared her words with her back remaining turned on the target of her direction, though whether it was to hide the strange feeling that tickled against the surfaces of her eyes or not was unclear. She lifted her chin slightly and spoke with a voice that had been raised just enough so that it was made clear and to be heard for the first and only time she would say it.

"The injured must be moved now, K'rahto. We must be ready to leave before nightfa-ll."

Was that a stutter? No. After all, nothing was wrong. You don't stutter in your speech when nothing is wrong.

The girl took a single, long and hard blink as she cleared the built up moisture that the cooling weather had so oddly coated - thinly - over her eyes before resuming her pace forward.

Twinflame · **08-09-2014, 05:07 AM**

Night had fallen. It was the perfect time of evening to begin the journey. K'ile lifted himself, ears standing tall over his head, blue eyes catching the moonlight, to look back towards the tribe. He couldn't see anything; no fires had been lit, as they normally would, and all was awash with shadow. What K'ile's eyes could not see, however, came to him in complicated scents. Stirred up by the felling of tanned leather tents, the rolling of mats and the sealing of bags and urns, the smell of the tribe blew across the dunes to him. He could make out the scent of dried meat, a more salty smell than anything that would lure animals to the tribe, but it smelled like food to him. If that was being packed now, then it was almost time to leave. He could imagine the tents bundled and slung to chocobos alongside sacks containing the meager possessions of the entire tribe.

Sagolii nomads, when told to do so, could migrate a hundred malms in two days and have the camp completely erect before the second day is over.

The Tia turned and made his way down the dune he'd been standing upon, his back to the tribe, moving outward. The 'trail' that they'd told him to cover was almost invisible to scent, much less to sight. He thought it more likely that the Amal'jaa had followed the scent of one of the outsider's chocobo than any physical trail left behind. Another scent that K'ile could pick among the sand was the putrid, coppery stink of the Nunh's blood. K'ile was able to follow this trail much better, though this he collected. He would put the bloodied sand to fire when he got the chance, lest it attract insects that bare ill omens, or lead predators to the tribe.

In the darkness ahead, K'ile smelled something dry and putrid. not a Miqo'te, nor any beast that a Miqo'te would hunt. K'ile pulled his spearfrom where it was fastened on his back and leveled it in front of him, growling into the dark. "You aren't supposed to be this far south."

The Amal'jaa rose like a boulder unfurling, one scout alone in all the night. K'ile would have smelled if there were more of them, and though this one carried the stink of several individuals, all were old except for its own individual scent. The thing's dark caught the moonlight like an insect's chitin, eyes like black beads stuck in the side of its head. It coughed at the Tia, and then its jaw opened and exhaled slow, languid, oozing syllables. "Your tribe attacked our party without provoaction. Without cause."

It wasn't often one head the beast tribes speak in the languages of mankind. K'ile didn't like it, and his spear rose threateningly in response. "Their cause was that they saw you, and that was all they needed. Like I said, you're too far south, and now you've been seen again. So I guess that means..." He shook his spear.

The stony beast grated out what might have been a chuckle, and its own spear glinted in the night.

K'ile hummed, smiled so that his teeth shone. He lifted his spear over the head and threw it aside. "Our Nunh is soft. If I can't beat you in a fair fight..." He lifted his hands in front of him, fingers open like claws. He bent his knees in a ready stance. "... Then beating him would be meaningless. Our tribe would have no Nunh."

In response, the Amal'jaa stood very still for a moment. It then huffed, its massive shoulders raising and falling, and threw its own spear off to one side. The weapon buried itself point-down in the side of a Dune, swaying against the night sky like a monolith. When it dropped its own stance, opened the claws of its hands, the air around it became heavy with danger. It swept its great tail back and forth across the sand, waiting for the Tia to attack so it could pull his innards out swiftly.

Before K'ile could challenge it, though, a new scent rushed into the shadow: a miqo'te who smelled of spices, alchemy, and ash. The suddeness of this new scent was caused not only by its incredible pungency, but by the fact that it had been perfectly concealed before, so that not even K'ile's long-trained senses had detected it. K'ile snapped his gaze towards the source of the scent and saw an impossibly thin figure crouching close to the sand, surrounded by unnatural orange light. Four glowing stones circled a wrist so thin it was almost invisible.

An instant later, the orange light shot forward along the ground, burning the sand black and stinging K'ile's nose with the hard scent of burnt minerals. Then the light caught, brightened, and shook behind him, with a kind of roar that he'd never heard accompany fire before. He knew the smell of cooking meat, though, and turned to watch the Amal'jaa he'd been about to fight. Its black scales were blackening further, its muscles shriveling inward, its polished eyes gone as it burned. The Amal'jaa burned alive, screaming out an earthy roar that shook inside K'ile's bones and he was sure could be heard all the way back to the tribe.

K'ile put his hand against the bottom of his nose, sheltering his nostril from the rush of unpleasant scents. He backed away from the Amal'jaa as it fell on the ground and curled up like a dried-out plant, turning away from it to set his eyes on the thin woman behind him.

"You are an unparalleled fool of a Tia." K'takka pointed at him, her one shivering, blackened finger extending thin and grotesque from her dark fist. Her body was so swaddled in thick furs of purples, golds and blues, that the mutilated digit was her only distinguishing feature. "At this rate we'll declare you unworthy to challenge the Nunh and I'll put you in your place instead."

Eyes wide, K'ile wavered for a moment before simply ducking his head, his ears pitching back along his scalp. "Elder! I didn't mean-"

"I do not wish to hear you speak. Your voice gives me a head ache. Go back to the tribe immediately. If you are left behind this time, don't expect there to be a place made for you at our destination." K'takka pressed her thin hand against the ground, and the stones -- the Firedancing stones that she had taken from him -- lit up around her wrist.

Distant light caught K'iles eyes, and he lifted he gaze to it. No, not distant. Small. And impossibly small fire just meters distant. The scent of burning blood reached his nose even over the carcass of the now-dead Amal'jaa, and as K'ile watched, more of those tiny fires lit along the path he had been following. Along the path that K'yohko had walked back to the tribe. He watched as, one by one, the little dots of blood burned in the sand where they had stained it. There were so many small fires stretching through the night, like campsites around which tiny people gathered, it reminded him of the armies gathering at Cartenau.

Looking back to K'takka, he saw only the old woman's back as she shuffled back towards the tribe, managing surprising speed for someone her age. But then, he'd never seen her outside of the elders' tent before, so how would he even know?

With the sigh of a man who'd been caught doing something stupid, knowing it was stupid, K'ile gave one last glance at the Amal'jaa's smoldering corpse before turning to walk back towards the camp. He was sure, if the Elders were helping with the preparations, that meant they would be leaving presently. Before the hour was out, they would have begun the trek to leave the Sagolii behind.

Izmina · **08-09-2014, 07:08 PM**

K'zhumi sits back with a weary sigh, the massive shoulder wounds had been thoroughly cleaned and all torn vessels had been tied off or repaired. As she takes a few moment's rest before starting the heavy task of repairing the badly damaged shoulder, her eyes fell on the youngster sleeping peacefully next to K'luha with her bare feet sticking out from under the blanket. With a rare surge of mischief Zhumi reached over and scrabbled her nails over the closest bare foot with a grin.Â

At the wholly unexpected sensation K'tahjha woke with a squeal, eyes wide. Â The shaman looks amused and Tahj blushes faintly. "Go to your aunt's tent and pack both your things. We're on the move soon." Nodding, curious to know what precipitated such an unexpected move, Tahj pulls on her boots and dashes off to do as she's told.

Sparing a glance at Li,"Can you begin packing the healing supplies I am not using? I will need to be able to access them as we travel. Be careful nothing spills or gets broken, please." Then she turns her attention back to K'yohko's shoulder, carefully drawing an intricate design from her grimoire around them in the sand and smaller patterns on various parts of the shoulder to help focus her aether. "Mind the lines."she says sternly then she goes into a state of deep meditation and knows only the flow of her aether and the damaged tissues.

Xha'li Moui · **08-09-2014, 07:33 PM**

Xha'li nods and sets Kedah down on the ground, before quickly ensuring that her pack was closed tightly.Â Nodding to himself he sprang to his feet and ducked around the lines K'zhumi had drawn in the dirt to move over to the table bearing her supplies.Â Bending under the table he grabbed the first of the crates and began quickly and methodically packing the supplies away for easy accessÂ during transport.

Izmina · **08-09-2014, 07:35 PM**

As K'zhumi concentrates, the arcane patterns both on the ground and painted on the nuhn's body begin to glow as she channels her aether through them. Focusing on important internal structures she works on the shoulder joint and the tendons and ligaments to restore and protect function. As she works she encounters an obstruction to the flow of aether and allows her concentration to drop with a frown. The glowing stops and the healer reaches into the wound and with some difficulty removes a small object that was embedded deep in the tissues. Letting it roll free into her palm Zhumi raises an eyebrow at it then pockets the item. She would give it to Yohko later.

After a couple of bells the glow emanating from the healer's tent flickers and dies. K'zhumi is leaning heavily on K'yohko her energy all but spent. She looks well pleased with her work, all the major structures of the shoulder were intact and functional. It would require restrengthening, but the nuhn should have full use of it. Of course to the untrained eye it might still look like a bomb had gone off in the area. With the skin still torn and gaping open. She picks up a needle and thread with an exhausted sigh and begins working on stitching the patchwork of wounds back together.

With tiny and precise stitches Zhumi works with the frayed and torn bits of skin until, who knows how many hundreds or thousands of stitches later, her patient was finally whole. She reaches for a tub of ointment and with hands trembling from exhaustion she begins working a thin layer of the thick salve into the wounds to prevent infection from setting in. She then bandages the shoulder, binding the arm to his body to keep the joint from moving as it healed.

Twinflame · **08-14-2014, 02:53 AM**

Skins were stripped from the sands, stakes from ropes, sticks from tents, everything laid flat and wrapped in bundles. Nothing was to be left behind except for the marker that would direct errant tribesmen northward, and this was being erected by a huntress as K'ile returned to camp. It was a small construct of wood and string, with branches pointing in several directions, colored ornaments decorating it. Only a member of the tribe would be able to read it and discern the direction the tribe had gone. To outsiders, animals and Amal'jaa, it would be useless.

K'ile found the elders gathered near the cart that he had brought to the tribe, Chocobo yoked to it and supplies stacked high in the back. In addition to food and alchemical supplies, it was also adorned in the many fetishes and charms that would keep the tribe safe for the duration of the trip, items which the Elders usually had to carry in hand. K'ile and a couple of huntresses aided the Elders into the cart, and K'ile was about to mount the front of it to steer it when K'takka informed everyone that K'ile was not permitted to drive carts or chocobo anymore.

His ears burning and face red from embarrassment, K'ile instead walked beside the cart, his tail shivering. The first place the cart went was to the healer's tent, to receive the wounded Nunh and a man that K'ile saw as an interloper: K'hai. The tiny Tia thought it would be wise to hold his tongue for now, and he did, though he surreptitiously attempted to judge K'yohko's strength. If the Nunh was too weak, the coming fight would be meaningless. Perhaps a week-long delay was called for after all.

Except for the cart, everything was to be carried or dragged on tarps connected by rope to the chocobo, or even dragged by hand. Thick cloth tarps had been laid out and piled high with clay pots and bowls. Everything the tribe possessed, used or created was to be taken with them. Nothing would be left behind. Within hours, the movement of sand would have concealed even the indentations of their tents, and because of paranoia of Amal'jaa following them, they would cover their own tracks as they went.

Xha'li Moui · **08-14-2014, 11:34 AM**

AsÂ Xha'li finished packing K'zhumi's supplies he turned and looked at K'hai, "You're going to need to stay sitting for a bit.Â I need to pack up my own supplies, and their at the outer edge of where my aether can reach so sit down and let my familiar curl up in your lap to act as a relay."Â

Not bothering to wait for a reply Xha'li scooped up Kedah up and dropped her on K'hai before turning and bowing briefly towards K'zhumi, "I'll return as soon as my birds are loaded up and ready to move, shouldn't be more then half a bell."Â As Xha'li finished speaking he backed out of the tent and made his way quickly back towards Rin and Fubuki, patting them both on the neck as he reached them.

"Hey boys," he said with a soft chuckle as Rin bent his head to preen Xha'li's hair, "We need to get moving quickly, you up for a run?"Â Nodding at the affirmative trill from both birds Xha'li quickly saddled and loaded Kedah up, placing his Conjurer's crook on his back for easy access should he need it before leading both birds back towards the healers tent as the cart was arriving.

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Feast and Firedancing [K-tribe]

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes