Begginnings, Ch 2, Pt 5

Within heartbeats of Kaelish Nelmos' collapse, Aalila had dissolved the protective barrier he had created and was at his side. Where he and his family had honed the physical skills all Krendaarri possessed and used them to protect, Aalila and her family, and others like them, had trained their skills in weaving to higher levels; using them as she had to heal Yenaali's wounds was just one of the ways those skills were used. She now looked over her lover with her weaver's sense and grew more and more relieved when all she found was a spreading bruise on his left side where the tail had struck him and some minor cuts and scratches that were already closing.

As she did not have to save his life, Aalila began kissing him fervently, all over, her hands touching and stroking him. He responded in kind, laughing.

“If this is my reward,” He said after he managed to catch a few breaths, “I could Dance against a hand of prides.” Still laughing he grabbed one of the flasks on the belt Aalila wore.

“That's,” She started as he gulped down the concentrated teni fruit.

“I'm so spent, I don't care.” He made a slightly sour face as he finished the last of it then gasped, “much...”

He lay back on the grass, eyes closed for a few moments before he asked, “Aamaa?”

“Aalila wove me well, son,” She said after she had come closer by crawling on her hands and knees. “Though I think it might be a bit before I'm ready to run again.”

“We will carry you back home, Yenaali,” Aalila said, “And you will rest for a hand of days before I will let you do anything more than stand up and walk a few paces.”

She held her hand before Yenaali's face and the older female looked at it curiously for a few moments before looking back up to Aalila.

“I never noticed your right hand having seven fingers before,” She said at last.

Aalila glanced down at her own hand, comparing it to her six-fingered right hand. Then her look went sly, “Oh, my apologies. I misspoke. I meant a hand of days,” And her right hand grew two more fingers to bring the total to nine.

“I relent,” Yenaali said, laughing, “Your parents have trained you well. As for you, Kaelish Nelmos, my son. My wondrous, amazing son. Myell's Dance against the Lords from the Sky so long ago could not have been more outstanding than yours.”

He flushed at the praise, but his scent was a mixture of embarrassment, pleasure and a hint of shame.

“I almost killed her, Aamaa,” He admitted; his head bowed low. “For what she had done to Aafaa, what she did to you, Aamaa, I wanted to. Part of me wants to race after her now and put an end to her still.”

Yenaali pulled her son close, embracing him and kissing him gently, “Yet you did not. You defeated her. You scattered her pride, I do not think any other Dancer has ever dared as you did; using the hlesskssaa's calls against them in that manner.”

Kaelish Nelmos studied the grass before his feet, “I...it was not my plan. As I struck and the first sought to flee, I realized I could make certain they did not return and used Scarflank's voice on them. The pride is no more. Now I wonder if perhaps I would have been more merciful if I had killed instead.”

Yenaali understood her son's doubt. It was not in the nature of Krendaarri, even Dancers or Weavers, to kill. Zaal had granted them a world lush and abundant and the Krendaarri ate the grasses of the plains, fruits and nuts from bushes and trees either growing wild or that they had cultivated. So abundant that they did not need to kill the plants for their sustenance and that grew into a reverence for all life. Thus were the zaalsestri used to harvest the grasses sharpened but the zaalsestri a Dancer used were blunted; to make them harder to use to kill on purpose or by accident.

“Kaelish Nelmos,” She said once again, “You did not kill. I...was prepared to. And, because of that, I nearly died by Scarflank's claws. Had you and Aalila not been as close...”

She paused a moment, shaking her head, “But you were close. We live. Scarflank yet lives. You destroyed her pride but they are canny and healthy. Some of her daughters were likely ready to leave and form prides of their own, the males are strong and surely will find a place in other prides. As for Scarflank herself, she is too stubborn not to build a new pride. I can only hope that Zaal wills it that she makes their range far, far from here.”

As odd as it might seem, Kaelish Nelmos took comfort in those words. New prides would mean more risk for the Krendaarri in future Turns but there would ever be Dancers ready to defend. He took comfort despite the risk because he chose to not kill

“There is a stream not too far north from here,” He said after a long silence. “This place, and we, smell too much of blood.”

Aalila nodded in agreement then added, “Zaal's eye is getting low enough and we could all use some sleep before we returned. Kaelish Nelmos, help me gather grass and we'll make a nest to carry Yenaali.”

He and Aalila spent the next little while collecting his zaalsestri and those of his mother, weaving them back to sharpened blades to slice through some of the tougher, taller grasses nearby then crafted them into a long sling and hanging bands that they slipped the zaalsestri through after weaving them into straight, slightly flattened rods that they could bear on their shoulders. They gently lifted Yenaali and placed her within the sling and lifted it up and put the carrying rods onto their shoulders. They walked slowly for several minutes before reaching the stream. They carefully washed the blood from their bodies and refreshed themselves in the cool water for laying on the bank and warmed in the light of the setting sun.

Yenaali sniffed the air, “Son, I smell ulgek melons.”

“Oh, no...please no,” Aalila said, her nose already wrinkling in disgust.

“I'll be right back,” Kaelish Nelmos said as he scented them as well. It was only a handful of minutes before he returned with four melons, each slightly smaller than his head and covered in a thick, gray-brown rind. He set three of them aside and then lengthened and sharpened the claws tipping his fingers and used then to pierce the fourth melon.

At the now stronger odor of the melon as its juices seeped from the punctures, Aalila gave a choking sound that was very much like the Krendaarri's name for these extremely pungent melons.

“Please,” she said weakly, already backing away, “You showed Scarflank mercy...”

Kaelish chuckled and started to break the melon into two halves beginning from where he had pierced the rind, “They're far better than teni, my love,” He said and gave his mother one half of the melon. Soon they were scooping the pulpy interior out and licking it from their fingers. Kaelish Nelmos offered his half to Aalila, who shook her head, nose growing smaller on her face nearly to disappearing altogether.

“I'd sooner eat kellen dung,” She replied. “At least it smells nicer.”

“More for us then, my son,” Yenaali said after almost finishing her part of the first fruit.

A large amount of soft grasses suddenly formed over their heads and rained down on them. Eyes still shining, Aalila then raised up the dirt from the stream bank up, around and over mother and son. She left openings for part of the stream to run through the shelter and several slits along the top so air could move through. Then she walked up stream, crossed to the other side to be upwind of them and wove a second shelter.

“Very well,” She said before stepping inside her second construction, “But I am sleeping here and you two are sleeping there.”