[Yael] Great, Small, Fluffy, and Mean (Malta and Zekiel)

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

“Of course,” he said. “Or, they won’t be done.” It was technically equally possible he supposed that no one would do what needed doing—but at that point, he suspected, as the time came when it was apparently obvious there was a lack of necessary doings, someone would be found for the task. It was the way of things, after all. And no dishonor as far as he was concerned, certainly, for whoever came about as most fitting for the task.

If it was equally necessary that the sun rise and the stables be cleaned, he could have respect for those that saw to both tasks. The gods, and his fellow citizens.

Zekiel couldn’t help his own amusement. He had never been an especially shy individual. Proper and private to the extent that the Sanctum had successfully taught him to be so, but also never personally concerned with all the same things that his fellows often seemed to be such that, when the mammu took a particular personal interest, he felt no individual embarrassment. Matings were the way of the world, and the ritual for progress forward—certainly the excited animal was mistaken in the precise direction of her inquiries, but Zekiel wouldn’t personally fault her for that.

Malta seemed visibly more flustered.

Zekiel decided it wasn’t an unflattering look for her. Not to mention, she seemed to recover from it quite impressively, successfully bidding the beast back a step and proceeding to apologize in her usual fashion. As Citrine shook herself incredulously, almost visibly shrugging off her mistress’ embarrassment, Zekiel couldn’t help but very privately agree with the mammu—there was no need for embarrassment here. Outwardly, however, he had learned that his fellow people appreciated reassurances.

He was already smiling, eyes warm with good humor, and he shook his head. “It’s quite alright. I am faring wondrously. I just hope, perhaps, there might be some plans for her to take a mate in the future, as she seems interested in such things. I am certain the gods would approve.”  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

H... how wonderfully are you feeling? Malta wondered.

"That... that's good." Malta tried to will the blush away, but at this point she was fairly sure it remained and would remain permanently throughout the entire day because...

Following that thought, Malta knew, would lead her to things she didn't want to think about right then. "Uh..."

Right. Mates for the mammu... Mates for the foreign beasts... A little too close to her intrusive thoughts for comfort, but this was her job.

Its fine, its fine, its fine...

"Um, probably not..." she said. She gave Citrine's trunk a tentative pat - it seemed that the mammu didn't mind her slight overreaction.

Which is what it was. She admonished herself.

"It was difficult enough for Yisette..." Malta couldn't help glancing about, as if the name would summon her mistress from... wherever she was at the moment. Training an animal? Riding her own beast? Drinking? Out drunk? "To get her... Getting another..." she let the thought trail off, brightening a little. "Did you know that they come from a place where water freezes? Without magic?!" It was an amazing concept - for water to just... freeze. How did it do that - why did it do that, there on the mainland? Did some strange beast breathe on the land there, and steal all the heat?

"And it falls from the sky!" she knew how strange that sounded. It was strange! "Anyway, its hard to get them from there. And the last one she tried to get... before, uh, Citrine, died on the way... Too hot for them, she said." she ran a hand through Citrine's fur. It had thinned since she'd come to warm Yael, but it still needed to be trimmed. Training her to allow trimming had been the first thing that Malta had had to do - it had been absolutely harrowing the first time...  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

DraconicFeline

“I understand,” he said, glancing to beast with something almost akin to apology. If this was the path the gods set before her, then so be it and he was happy for that and the chance to witness her.

But he was also coming to understand that life without a mate was what some would call a ‘lonelier’ path, devoid of a certain unity that the gods themselves designed for most. Being here, the mammu might never find kinship of that sort, or have opportunity to make more of her kind. What a strange thing, to be so unique and prized and ‘special’ in a foreign land, but also incapable of acting as nature generally intended.

“It is a marvel that she is able to find some comfort here, though her body was crafted by other gods. I’ve heard much of lands on the far shore and beyond…they sound wondrous and strange, but…” He hesitated.

It wasn’t his place, he thought, to judge the gods’ will, but at the intersect between the will of their gods, and the influx of beasts and persons from lands and gods unknown, he did sometimes wonder if it was best to bring certain things as far from their homeland as they came. Citrine was a great beast, and it was a treasure to see her himself, but at what cost, and how many did not survive the journey?

But then, he reminded himself, such was the way of the world and to whatever extent he could not change it, it did no good to guess at its meaning. “Perhaps it is best this way, where she might receive all your care. Will you travel to the lands of other gods yourself?”

It had always been a point of curiosity for him, but not one he thought himself destined personally to take. Malta, however, seemed a woman perhaps even more in touch on a daily basis with the makings of foreign gods, and it did not seem as far a thought to imagine her venturing afar.  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

Malta herself hoped that they could get a male and breed her - imagine that, a baby Mammu! The more baby animals, in her opinion, the better!

She gave fed Citrine more of her food, before turning to leave. Zekiel's question, however, caught her off guard. "I... want to." she said carefully, honestly. There was no need to hide it, not from him. Not, really, from anyone else (though she feared that voicing it would be seen as above her station). "The idea scares me - its such a strange, big place, full of... of mystery and monsters, you know?" Foreigners, the worst of all, "And I hear that it can steal away the glow from ones eyes..." the glow, that blessing from the gods. "But... one day, I really really do, even so."

She set aside the rest of the fruits - she could train the mammu later, but she had a feeling that Citrine was a little too excited right now. As was she. She snuck out a pair of peaches from the bucket and then led Zekiel out. "One day, I want to see where she comes from - and maybe bring more like her here. Though, I think capramel would do better. They're so hardy!" and cute! And smaller, better suited to the island. "I think I can figure out how to help them get here and stay healthy, too..." she handed him the peach once they were out of view of the mammu, "Of course... if they let me go."  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

“It is.” From what he had heard, Zekiel had by now concluded that all he could really know from where he stood was that all beyond was so vast, he could never learn of it all even by ear, let alone understand it as though he had stood in all the places there were to be. He could not even have seen all of Yael, he suspected, but the lands beyond—they were another testament to vastness altogether.

But, to think that Malta might one day traverse it was an excitement itself.

“I think it will be wondrous when you do. The gods will look after you on your way, if you do not stray too far beyond their power for too long.” Despite his post, it wasn’t something he said to everyone. He couldn’t always be sure and sometimes even felt that certain individuals may not receive the gods protection in their endeavors, and beyond that, he was quite aware of at least the presence and potential of foreign dangers the further one traveled from home. The Yaeli gods could only keep after so much.

But he felt a particular sense of ease and trust when it came to imagining Malta herself on the far shore, witnessing new lands and beasts with wide eyes and an eager mind. The gods clearly tested her with her insecurities and the burdens of her life, but Zekiel felt an unexplainable sense of surity that at least this girl was meant to see more than Yael—if not indefinitely, than at least for some period to feed her curiosity and add richness where now there was just nervous hope. And Zekiel had never been one to second guess his instincts.

“My mind imagines you easily in places I will never go,” he said, “on fields of strange greens and blooms and under skies painted by other gods…” Taking the fruit when offered, he thumbed its surface thoughtfully. “I believe you would only bring a beast if you knew a way to make its journey as comfortable as your own…and that you will find wonders there which will return with you in other ways when you come home. No one here will keep you forever…that power is not in their hands.”  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

"Oh!"

From the gods lips to his.

That was the first thing that came to mind when he spoke - with such surity, with such honesty and - perhaps more significantly - without much of his usual... ease? Airiness? Zekiel's usual pleasant demeanor defied labeling. It was as if he percieved the world differently than other people - of course he did, he was one of the god's chosen.

If he says so...

But this had the ring of complete, absolute, true honesty, just like thunder heralded storms and lightning heralded thunder. Just so did his words herald a journey in her future. A part of the god's plan, a push in the direction they wanted her to go...

She beamed, her smile sudden delight at her own thoughts as they twisted off into wild directions. "If that's what the gods have in store for me... then I... I guess I'll have to make preparations."

They were very fanciful thoughts, but it did mean that she had no excuse not to bring it up to Yisette when an opportunity arose... So she would. This was a sign, after all.

"I don't want to lose the glow, though..." That would be terrible - to lose the glow of the gods was to be lost from their light... wasn't it? She'd heard a lot of speculation about the lights of the Yaeli, ever since the mainlanders had come, not blessed with glowing eyes. That clear difference was proof of being chosen - and proof that the gods protected only Yael and the Yaeli. "How do I keep that from happening?"

She'd been leading them down the path towards Detraeus's pen. "Oh - hang on -" she said, going into the barn (amid which was her own quarters) and coming out with a few small meat scraps she'd saved for him. "Sorry - Detraeus, the Janarim will be wanting these." And she wanted to give him them. If he was good.

Ohhh, she'd forgotten to mention where they were going... "We're going to see him now." she explained a little hastily, caught up in too many excitements for a single moment to hold.  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

DraconicFeline

Much had been said about the loss of the Yaeli glow, and though most of the clergy was united in feeling it was at the very least a bad omen, if not a sign of disassociation by the gods entirely, he didn’t think it necessary to repeat that conclusion here. Malta was likely aware of the potential risks, and though Zekiel did think it wise to put value in preserving it, he saw no need to exaggerate any existing fears.

Rather, he could tell her what he knew of it, and hopefully aid her in preventing its loss. Unfortunately, there had not been enough travel—or communication with those who had traveled—to know by experience what affected it. So, everything Zekiel ‘knew’ was by the church’s instruction.

“There are prayers to be done, to remain near to the gods,” he said, “and if you visit the temple before departing, I will give you blessings of protection before you depart. Some come and return without losing their glow, so it known that those who maintain the closest bonds with the gods do not lose touch, but timing, distance, and faith are of great importance.” He considered a moment, before adding—though it was not strictly what he had been instructed, but more a personal impulse, “I think that to remind myself of my homeland and keep myself near to my gods, if I were to travel, I would bring what I may of what made us. The clothes made from this land, the bedding, and whatever food I could keep to nourish me. The more we take of a foreign land and make our own, I think the more at risk we become of losing some touch with our gods.”

Faithful as he was to them and their will, there was no denying that the gods of the Yaeli were selective in their blessings and held their magic near to the island of their keeping.

Detraeus.

“Oh, I have been hoping to see him,” he said, eyes alight with new spark at the drift in topic. Malta had spoken much of the great beast, and he sounded to be a fearsome creature to behold indeed, but this would be Zekiel’s first opportunity to meet with him himself.  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

Blessings, prayer, Items from Yael, Food from Yael... Mentally, Malta made a checklist, one that she would keep in mind vigorously when travel was an option. The gods had given her such a chance - clearly, she was no longer bad luck (or perhaps, that bad luck had been temporary, a way to bring her to this path?) and she needed to make sure that the gods knew that she was grateful for the new chance she could very well have. If she cleaved to Yael, then perhaps it would not leave her...

"... That does mean that I'll need a lot of supplies..." she thought out loud. Supplies meant costs, and also weight to carry with her... how deep into the mainland could she go, carrying home on her back? Or on the back of a beast?

"I've been hoping for you to see him!" she said cheerfully. They were coming up to his pen - she could see him, rolling around in the sand-pile that had been put in for him. It had been an idea of Malta's - he was a beast from a land of sand, after all - and it had made him much easier to work with. "... That is how he cleans himself." she explained, pointing out the dark bruise-purple creature at the far end, "He needs sand and sunlight - for his skin." It seemed to calm him to be clean, and his training had progressed so much more since then - and since the sand had helped to dry the ground around him. Sometimes, Malta considered making him special shoes for the mud of Yael - his claws sunk in mud and he seemed not to like the feeling of it on his skin - but she had no idea how to make such things, what could be used, or how she would find any such materials.

Anyway, the sand pile was good - it meant he was relaxed and in a decent mood (as relaxed as he ever was, anyway.) His training dummies were stored on the other side of the pen - she did want to show that off, so she kept that in mind...

But first... "I'm going to call him over." she said, moving over to the gate, "Wait here, and don't make any sudden movements, all right?"  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Zekiel, rare as it was of an experience to begin with, had actually had occasion to meet a janarim before—the one which followed about the jungle merchant, Matchitemin. It had been some time since he had seen that beast, though, and he was well aware that they were not naturally tame or friendly beasts. The red-eyed foreigners of the far shore used them as war beasts.

But, as they approached and he caught sight of him, tossing about in the loose sands like some pup of a beast, Zekiel found himself smiling instinctively. Even in the fiercest of creatures, there could be a universal playfulness—and usefulness, apparently. It was a strange way to think of bathing, but a natural one it seemed, and what a clever design on the part of gods who had given their creatures not sea and mud, but great stretches of sand.

At Malta’s instruction, Zekiel nodded, stilling where she bid and waiting with curious patience, his hands folding loosely behind his back but eyes moving from Malta, to the janarim of focus. What a wondrous and complex power—to work and learn with powerful creations of other gods, and bring them into a coexistence with their people here.  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

With Zekiel's safety (sort of, there were no guarentees with Det) ensured, Malta leaned against the fence and let out a low, long whistle. It had taken her so much practice to get the tones right, but once she'd learned the tricks from one of the older 'hands, whistling had become second nature to her. Except, instead of 'whistling as she worked' whistling was a part of her work. Tones worked where language failed, were quick and easy, and most animals seemed to pay attention to them. It was also fun, but in this case, with this janarim -- whose head went up immediately at the sound -- it was very practical.

~

Detraeus looked around, his alert gaze zeroing in on his trainer, his 'little mouse.' He stared at her for a moment, sand skittering down his angular body as he took in the context:

His trainer - She was at his gate, and she was in a good mood (which meant that things were good) and what was that in her hands? Was it a bucket? He could smell blood and meat -- treats. It was not, however, their usual time for training, which was odd. But treats.

Someone else - Someone else was with her, no one that the great beast recognized. Male. Her kind. But a stranger. Normally, when there was someone new, his trainer was tense and upset by them. She tried to hide it, but he could always tell. It was very unusual.

Interest piqued, the desert monster decided that it was certainly worth abandoning his sand bath (sand, lovely lovely sand, sand sand sand~) to investigate.

~

Malta was somewhat relieved when she saw the janarim stand up and lope over with liquid grace. "Hello, Detty!" she said, "Thats a good boy, come on." He could have very easily ignored her. Sometimes, that was what he did -- and she knew she needed to respect it. Or go in with him and coax him out, which wasn't something that she wanted Zekiel to be around for.

He was faster than he looked -- fater, even, than he appeared to be moving. It wasn't long before the janarim was there, sniffing at her curiously. Malta held her hand out, palm out, to let him smell. "Hello - aww!" she said adoringly as the janarim stuck his nose into her palm and snuffed. She scritched his nose with the tip of her fingers -- it was always very striking, how unconcerned she was about being so close to a large carnivore, while even being near one of the fieldhands made her nervous and twitchy. "Were you enjoying your sand bath? Good boy."

He took his nose away from her hand and began to sniff at the bucket with hopeful hunger. "Good boy." she said, tossing him some meat, which he caught midair and swallowed whole.

"Detraeus, this is Zekiel -- Zekiel, this is Detraeus... you can come over here, now," she said, assessing, "But not too close, ok?"  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

It was a curious thing to hear, clearly practiced, as Malta whistled. And, like a different sort of magic, the wild beast lifted its head, taking time from whatever it had previously thought important and turning its attention to the young woman beside him. He watched the animal’s attention as it fixated on her.

And then on him.

And then on the bucket, which was—by some combination—evidently reason enough to coerce him forward. As he came, Zekiel noted the lethal fluidity to his gait. The gods of the far sands crafted war beasts, designed for efficiency in conquering whatever came before them. Malta had convinced one that she was his mistress.

His lips curved upward with pleased interest as its maw—capable of tearing a limb from either of them, surely—nuzzled into her palm affectionately. As his haunches bunched and he leapt, successfully burying a carnivore’s teeth in raw meat, and swallowing without effort, Zekiel tipped his head. Some competition. He approached at Malta’s invitation, keeping as much of a distance as he thought she may have meant by her warning, but due to no hesitation of his own.

The janarim was intelligent. And, though perhaps he had many reasons for a poor temper with regard to other experiences in his life, there was no threat to him in Zekiel’s presence. Of that, Ze was sure as he moved in.

“It is wondrous to make your acquaintance, Detraeus…” Zekiel said. “As a vessel of our gods I apologize for whatever may have ailed you in your journey here…but it is a pleasure to meet with you nonetheless. Your mistress speaks highly of you, and you appear to be a fine example of your gods’ craftsmanship.”  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

Detraeus regarded this liquid-voiced twolegger who smelled of spices and ocean. He leaned in, suspicious - what did the twoleg's voice mean, with all its sounds? Even his little mouse wasn't so gentle of voice - he had to be hiding something! Maybe under his flowing cloth? Oh - he smelled the mammu on him now, and there was no fear-smell or anger-smell from the mammu. And little mouse wasn't upset by him. So...

Almost reluctantly, Detraeus let out an "Auugh." sound, something that could almost be a greeting or achkowledgement... either of what Zekiel had said, or that he would tolerate his presence. With a huff, he turned back to Malta - there, he hadn't tried to attack the cloth-man out of the blue.

Reward him.

~

"Hehe." Malta giggled at the sound, "He likes you." Well, he liked Zekiel enough. Wouldn't that be something, if he liked Zekiel's voice as much as she did? The idea made Malta a little bit jealous... and posessive.

Happily, she gave Detraeus his treat - good boy.

"He's beautiful, isn't he."  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Zekiel watched with an understanding that the beast approaching him was both intelligent, and capable of killing him in a moment if it saw fit. Yet, with it came no fear. It was never that he doubted the beast’s capacity, or even that he knew with any certainty that it ‘wouldn’t’ hurt him for whatever reason, be it Malta or some other influence. He didn’t. But, he also felt no reason to fear or need to know, but rather a calming sense of curious inevitability, just wanting to know what the gods had in store for this moment.

The groan-roar of greeting brought about an upward, pleased tug at the corner of his lip.

He wasn’t certain the janarim ‘liked’ him, but he understood the genuineness to Malta’s pleasure that the reaction had been at least positive on the full spectrum of possibilities, and he liked the janarim — How could it not be wondrous? Strange, powerful, and unique as it was… — so the finer details were of little consequence.

“I am glad,” he said. “He is beautiful…and he is as pleased by your attention as I am.”  

[DraconicFeline]

The Only Black Uke

Malta gave him a startled look, taking her hand away from Det's nose. Had he just... Oh my goodness. She thought, As if he would be hanging around me without enjoying it...

Her smile grew very warm. "I... I'm pleased by your attention too... um." Well, he'd said it, so it couldn't be as awkward as she thought it felt.

Aaaah, what do I do? Oh, right, I have a beast here. My beautiful good janarim. I can... I can show him off. Yes! Perfect.

"Do you mind if I run Det here through some of his routines? I, ah, really want you to see them." she said.  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Good. It wouldn’t be doing either of them very much good if she wasn’t, after all, but fortunately it wasn’t very much in doubt aside from the young woman’s nerves, which seemed to be present most of the time regardless. Perhaps one day he would discover how to assuage those, but until then…

He blinked at the question. “I would love to see them,” he said.

He had made it all the way out here, and Malta was evidently proud of what she had accomplished with her beast. He found it difficult to imagine anyone not being pleased to see the fruits of her labor. Besides, though trade with the far shore had begun to develop in recent years and would likely only further expand from where they were at present, janarim were still foreign and rarely seen beasts which he had few other occasions to catch glimpse of, let alone observe so closely.

It might be the only instance in his life the gods presented him with such an opportunity.