K'ile walked purposefully towards a tent well off to the side of the shaman's tent. He did not himself have a tent to call home at the time, as he hadn't been present to set up his own tent when the Tribe last moved. Still, the supply tent was easy to pick out, always between the healers' and elders' tents, and stepping just inside K'ile claimed his spear.
Turning back to K'iara, he adjusted the strap on his chest and hung the spear over his back. "Eh, I guess I'm taking myself a bit seriously, aren't I? If you're going to start throwing girls at me, just throw yourself. At least I can talk to you, and we'd both know what was going on." Walking out towards the edge of the camp, which was only a few tents removed from them at this point, K'ile kept his gaze on the woman who looked so much like his dead brother. She snickered like K'thalen had once snickered, scolding with hard humor. "I didn't have any reason to hide the cart tracks. Nobody had provoked any Amal'jaa yet. But, yeah, I'll get it."
Turning back to K'iara, he adjusted the strap on his chest and hung the spear over his back. "Eh, I guess I'm taking myself a bit seriously, aren't I? If you're going to start throwing girls at me, just throw yourself. At least I can talk to you, and we'd both know what was going on." Walking out towards the edge of the camp, which was only a few tents removed from them at this point, K'ile kept his gaze on the woman who looked so much like his dead brother. She snickered like K'thalen had once snickered, scolding with hard humor. "I didn't have any reason to hide the cart tracks. Nobody had provoked any Amal'jaa yet. But, yeah, I'll get it."
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