A meeting of younglings [Hipparion Tribe]

[Clover]

K'mih's bicolour eyes opened wider, brightening at K'ailia's words of approval. Surprising as it might be that anything of what she'd said could be found useful in any way, she couldn't help the resulting rush of joy. Just a moment ago, the young Miqo'te had been afraid of being completely useless; being told otherwise was always a relief.

 

"I'm very glad, K'a--"

 

Both her words and her hopeful smile were interrupted by K'nahli's not very amused tone, followed by her hand grabbing her younger sister's. The blue haired Miqo'te took K'mih away from the meeting spot, rushing back to the camp as if the meeting was over.

 

"¿E-eh? B-but... K'nahli...!"

 

Despite her timid attempt to understand what was going on, K'mih didn't oppose her sister; she hardly ever did. She trusted that K'nahli would share what was in her mind once they were alone. Or so she hoped.

[Kailia]

K'ailia nodded and also headed down. She smiled to herself, "All that be needing now... is ta tell the elders" she said to no one in particular as she climbed aboard the unicorn.

 

There was little time, and she got the feeling mother sandstorm would be coming soon. So she rode off towards the tribe camp as quickly as the unicorn could go. The ride took several hours, about the same amount it took to get there but before long, she had arrived at camp.

 

Dismounting, she realized the unicorn was now tired out. She had rode back faster than she had left. But now... it was time to head for the elders tent. It was time to see if the elders would be willing to call a tribe meeting to discuss the problems plaguing the tribe. But the one elder she thought would be most receptive was K'deiki. So it was her tent she approached.

 

"Elder... are you there?" she asked.

[Naunet]

The grounds had been oddly silent today to K'deiki's ears - such as they were in her age. There had been the usual bustle of huntresses in and out in the morning and early afternoon, and the steady chattering of tias and others taking care of other chores and preparations, but there had been no laughter of children, no shrieks as the ran pell-mell through the cluster of tents, tearing up sand and bowling over any unsuspecting brother or sister who happened to be in their path, and no youthful cheers at the return of the huntresses.

 

The silence had weighed on K'deiki's heart, and so the calm, youthful voice that called into her tent filled her with warmth down to every aching joint. She turned rheumy eyes towards the door and crinkled her face into a smile. "Come in, dear. Tell me what you and your sisters have been up to today."

[Kailia]

K'ailia entered the tent and smiled at K'deiki, "Me an the others got together ta try and figure out what we can do fer the tribe."

 

She took a seat in front of K'deiki, "We exchanged ideas, but K'mih had the best one. I'd like ta propose it to you now."

 

K'ailia took a deep breath, "We think the best way for the tribe to figure out how to improve things is fer the entire tribe to hold a big meetin' so everyone can voice ideas on how best ta improve things fer all o' us."

 

She waited then for K'deiki's response.

[Naunet]

K'deiki shifted on the woven mat she sat upon until she was fully facing K'ailia, fingers folded together, hands resting in her lap. "K'luha's influence still yet touches you, I see," she observed and then fell quiet, closing her eyes and taking a moment to breathe. There was a rattling in her chest that hadn't been there a year ago.

 

Enough time passed that one might think she had fallen asleep.

 

"I remember being young and unhappy with the decisions of the elders," she finally spoke, voice thin and crackly like old paper. Thin lips smiled. "Yes, if you can believe something, believe that that has not changed across our generations. And yet..." Another pause for a breath. "We have always trusted the elders in their decisions, trusted them with the health and security of the tribe, and I have felt the weight of that burden ever since my own returned to the aether."

 

K'deiki reached out with one hand, gesturing for K'ailia to come closer, seeking a more personal connection. "It has always been our responsibility, and ours alone." It was difficult to see in the shadows of the tent, lit only by a small oil lamp, but her aged eyes could make out the vague, wavering outline of her great-granddaughter. She breathed as deep as her old lungs would allow and spoke looking up at the shadow of that young face, "But this is a matter of our home, and I would not take that decision away from those to whom it matters most. Let the tribe decide, not just us old decrepits with our wandering minds yearning for nostalgia." She chuckled at that, coughed, and then smiled.

[Kailia]

K'ailia smiled and gave K'deiki a hug, careful not to injure the elder in the process. After a few moments she separated herself from the elder.

 

"Thank you elder. We still need yer guidance. You are our leaders." she bowed and exited the tent. Her destination was to her mother's tent, to see if she was home.

[Naunet]

As the flap fell shut, cutting off the bright rays of late afternoon and sending the tent back into perpetual lantern-lit night, K'deiki sighed, her fragile form seemingly sinking into the floor. With her head bowed, one knotted hand reached out and felt around on the ground beside her until fingers touched smoothly carved stone. She brought the object to her lap, holding it in the palm of one hand, and let her thumb run along the worn edges of the flat, roughly circular shape. Across its surface she could feel shallow grooves radiating outward from a central point.

 

With her eyes closed to the orange light of the lantern, K'deiki could, for just a moment, call up the memory of a stubborn, young woman presenting this token to her, thrusting it out as though to ward against any protests she might make. It was the mark of Azeyma, carved and carried in ritual by their chosen shaman, and the day her daughter presented her decision, K'deiki had finally felt secure in the strength of her family.

 

The icon had not been worn in years, however, and to K'deiki it now represented the full weight of the changes forced upon her and her people. Abandonment, loss, fear for the future and fear of the past.

 

"May we have the strength to face what you could not, my child," she muttered down to the stone icon and then, with regretful bitterness in her heart, she set it aside once more. "We must remain strong. We must not break." Her spine bent forward, curling beneath the layers of cloth that shrouded her body like a withered willow branch, and swayed in thought.