((Aksed K'nahli before posting and she said it was fine!))
An omnipresent but mostly silent din, the sand moved around the desert like a tide taking decades to roll up onto a beach. The sand rode the wind, and shared the air with the sound of voices and movement, the smell of bodies and breath. The desert shimmered like a frozen ocean in the heat, and the currents carried blood to his senses. K'nahli practiced just outside of camp, her targets downwind to keep the sand out of her eyes. She was there with K'mih. It wasn't unusual.
"Strange is a word for it," K'ile Tia's voice broke through the breeze, coming from upwind. With his hair pulled from his face by the sand, his blue eyes -- exactly like K'thalen's had been -- looked over the two women. They did not linger on K'nahli, instead giving K'mih his best casual smile. He stood atop the sand as if he had always been there, his approach as natural and silent as a migrating stone.
The sensitive skin at his neck and collarbones was pink where the sand had irritated it, and where the strap that held his quiver lay over it. His longbow, a cheap and simple thing, was held in an otherwise limp hand at his side.
"Perhaps K'mihgazu didn't want to go into it," he continued as he took steps towards the pair. "Couplings that are too near -- family members, siblings -- are dangerous. They infect the couple with impurity and ill fate. Resulting children always perish, and must be burned to be purified. Such cannot be done for those who committed the sin and brought the impurity upon themselves. For the crime, they may have to be sent away from the tribe, or else we would have to carry the burden of their curse."
K'ile chuckled at a private thought, "Maybe your mother was kind to simply call it 'strange', but I think you're smart enough to deal with it. It never really comes up anyway." He lifted his bow, and looked to K'nahli. "I was hoping you could teach me a bit today. I figured out how to get the arrow in there, but my fingers are still clumsy." He pointedly did not ask about the smell of blood.
An omnipresent but mostly silent din, the sand moved around the desert like a tide taking decades to roll up onto a beach. The sand rode the wind, and shared the air with the sound of voices and movement, the smell of bodies and breath. The desert shimmered like a frozen ocean in the heat, and the currents carried blood to his senses. K'nahli practiced just outside of camp, her targets downwind to keep the sand out of her eyes. She was there with K'mih. It wasn't unusual.
"Strange is a word for it," K'ile Tia's voice broke through the breeze, coming from upwind. With his hair pulled from his face by the sand, his blue eyes -- exactly like K'thalen's had been -- looked over the two women. They did not linger on K'nahli, instead giving K'mih his best casual smile. He stood atop the sand as if he had always been there, his approach as natural and silent as a migrating stone.
The sensitive skin at his neck and collarbones was pink where the sand had irritated it, and where the strap that held his quiver lay over it. His longbow, a cheap and simple thing, was held in an otherwise limp hand at his side.
"Perhaps K'mihgazu didn't want to go into it," he continued as he took steps towards the pair. "Couplings that are too near -- family members, siblings -- are dangerous. They infect the couple with impurity and ill fate. Resulting children always perish, and must be burned to be purified. Such cannot be done for those who committed the sin and brought the impurity upon themselves. For the crime, they may have to be sent away from the tribe, or else we would have to carry the burden of their curse."
K'ile chuckled at a private thought, "Maybe your mother was kind to simply call it 'strange', but I think you're smart enough to deal with it. It never really comes up anyway." He lifted his bow, and looked to K'nahli. "I was hoping you could teach me a bit today. I figured out how to get the arrow in there, but my fingers are still clumsy." He pointedly did not ask about the smell of blood.
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