Evening brought with it preparations for cold weather. The reasonable members of the tribe were donning heavier garments; K'ile was not one of those people. He dressed the same in heat and in cold, in the desert or at an oasis. But he would at least draw close to the fires once they were lit. In addition to cooking meals, the fires were all bu prerequisite for making it through the night without becoming ill. The tents were situated in small groups of three or four around small bonfires, and once they'd burned out, the coals would be gathered in clay bowls so that the heat could be carried into the tents and ward away the cold.
K'ile didn't know where K'iara's tent was settled now; every time the tribe migrated, things tended to move a bit. Luckily, he didn't have to look far. The woman -- like a thin, female version of his dead brother -- cast a long evening shadow in the red light as she trudged through the sand in his direction. Feeling a moment of anxiety, K'ile bit it away. He was just going to apologize. How could he mess that up? Knowing him, he'd find a way.
"K'iara!" K'ile waved over his head to beckon her. "Two minutes? I just need two minutes."
K'ile didn't know where K'iara's tent was settled now; every time the tribe migrated, things tended to move a bit. Luckily, he didn't have to look far. The woman -- like a thin, female version of his dead brother -- cast a long evening shadow in the red light as she trudged through the sand in his direction. Feeling a moment of anxiety, K'ile bit it away. He was just going to apologize. How could he mess that up? Knowing him, he'd find a way.
"K'iara!" K'ile waved over his head to beckon her. "Two minutes? I just need two minutes."
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