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Ramirez knew he was in trouble when the door to his hooch opened and he heard someone whisper to the occupant of the top bunk.
“Staff Sergeant Ramirez?”
“No, I ain’t Staff Sergeant Ramirez!” he heard Burgers hiss back. “Do I look four-foot-three to you?!”
“Sorry, Staff Sergeant!” the other man whispered back. Ramirez could feel the man’s eyes on him as he rolled over. “Staff Sergeant Ramirez?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Ramirez replied with a yawn. “What time is it? And who are you?”
“Zero-one-twenty, Staff Sergeant,” the man whispered back. “Specialist Rafferty. Entry Control Point Alpha.”
“Dude,” Ramirez grunted as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk. “What do you want that couldn’t possibly wait until morning?” He wasn’t even bothering to whisper, his revenge on Burgers for the four-foot-three remark.
“There’s a local girl at the gate asking for you,” the sentry told him.
Ramirez rubbed his eyes and blinked. “A local? You mean a Va’Shen?”
“Yes, Staff Sergeant. Walked right up to the barrier and just said your name.”
“A girl?” he asked, blinking sleep out of his eyes.
“Yes, Staff Sergeant.”
Ramirez hurriedly pulled on his t-shirt and grabbed his uniform trousers off the end of the bed.
“Wanna borrow some cologne?” Burgers sleepily asked from the top bunk.
The other Ranger ignored him as he finished tying his combat boots. Standing up, he grabbed his uniform jacket and put it on as he followed the sentry out the door. He was hopeful that this was the visit he was expecting, albeit earlier than he thought it would be. It was only a few hours ago that Captain Gibson had given his approval for this little field trip.
He broke into a smile as his hopes were realized. Standing at the FOB’s main gate, bathed in the bright white illumination of the camp’s lights, was Bao Sen. The Va’Shen Huntress’s hand rested on her hip, and her bright red tail flicked lazily back and forth in mild annoyance at having to wait so long. She saw Ramirez, and her ears twitched.
“Rah-meer-ezz,” she pronounced. <We’re going to hunt. Will you come?” She mimed her question as she had done before, and Ramirez quickly got the gist.
Rather than try to answer in English, Ramirez held up a finger then pointed at her. He then pointed at the ground in a “stay right here.” He then turned and rushed back to his B-hut to grab his gear. The moment Captain Gibson had given him the okay, Ramirez had hauled ass to the armory to get a rifle appropriate for hunting big game instead of the M-31 he normally carried. What he had walked away with was the same bolt-action .338 Lapua he had carried into the mountains to search for the Pelle villagers.
Of course, this time he asked for a few accessories. Knowing the Va’Shen’s sensitivity to sound, he equipped the rifle with a suppressor so he wouldn’t inadvertently deafen anyone near him. He also asked the armorer for hollow-point rounds instead of the typical full-metal jacket rounds.
“You know those are illegal to use in combat, right?” the armorer had asked him with an arched eyebrow. After assuring the armorer it wasn’t intended for battle, Ramirez had walked out with a box of ten hollow-point rounds, much more appropriate for taking game.
As he hurriedly threw his assault pack over his shoulders and his boonie hat on his head, he called to his friend, still trying to sleep through the racket Ramirez was making.
“Tell the Captain I’m out with the Huntresses,” he said.
“Who is that?!” Burgers groaned sleepily. “Go away!”
Ramirez didn’t bother to answer. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and stepped out of the B-hut, making sure to let the door slam loudly against the frame as he walked away. Trotting back to the gate, he found Bao Sen and the sentry still waiting for him.
“All set!” he announced.
Seeing that the Dark One was ready to depart, Bao Sen turned and started down the dirt and gravel lane that led to the main road.
Ramirez fell into step alongside her, his rifle slung over his shoulder. He quickly went through a mental check to see if he was forgetting anything. Weapon, ammo, MREs, water...
Bao Sen turned her head to make sure the Dark One was still with her on the pitch black roadway. She wasn’t sure how good a hunter he was, but she was pretty sure if he lost her in the dark on the road, she wasn’t taking him with her. Fortunately for everyone, the Ranger had no trouble keeping up with her, and after ten minutes of walking, the two arrived at their destination.
A large four-wheeled wooden cart sat in the middle of the road. The vehicle was taller than Ramirez with wooden rails that ran along the sides much like the modifications he had made to their trucks. Two large, four-legged animals the size of oxen but with a single horn protruding from their heads, were hitched to the front. The animals looked back at them for a moment, their eyes, if they had any, obscured by dirty, mop-like white hair that covered their bodies.
Bao Sen nimbly hopped up to the back of the cart and said a few words to someone inside. Then she turned and reached down to Ramirez.
<Come,> she said. <Climb up.>
Ramirez grabbed the edge of the cart’s “floor” and effortlessly pulled himself up and over the railing. When his feet touched the floor, he turned, smiling.
Eight female Va’Shen, Huntresses, were sitting on their knees on either side of the cart, looking at him with frank disapproval. Although the Va’Shen emoted more with their tails than their facial expressions, their eyes practically dripped contempt. A few held hard-light rifles, most had bows and sharp-looking knives strapped to their sides. The air practically stank of hostility mixed with whatever it was those creatures pulling the cart were.
Ramirez smiled widely. “Howdy!” he greeted with a wave. “I’m Ramirez! Thanks for having me along!”
Half translating, half introducing him, Bao Sen gestured to the Ranger. <His name is “Rah-meer-ez,”> she said. <Nobody kill him.>
There were a few quiet hissing sounds from the vixens, and Bao Sen motioned to an empty spot next to the wagon’s back gate. Ramirez sat down, legs crossed and made himself comfortable. He turned to the Huntress sitting next to him and smiled again. “Hey, how ya’doin?” he asked.
The Huntress rose from her seat without a word and moved to the front of the wagon. After some pushing, the next Huntress in the row ended up next to Ramirez.
Alzoria spared the Dark One a look, just long enough to confirm that Ramirez was the same Dark One whose antics in their mountain sanctuary had gotten her a lecture from Bao Sen. Once her suspicion had been confirmed, she turned her eyes to the Huntress sitting across from her, her tail twitching in utter dissatisfaction.
Ramirez either didn’t notice or chose to play dumb. “I’m Ramirez,” he said, holding his hand out to her.
Alzoria ignored his greeting and instead addressed Bao Sen who was sitting across from her. <Why did you bring this savage?> she asked.
Bao Sen’s tail thumped the floor of the cart twice in irritation at being so directly interrogated by such a junior member of their guild. <Because it pleases me to,> she responded curtly.
Ramirez watched the byplay, his hand still out. A second after Bao Sen’s comment, he pulled his hand back and instead tipped his hat with it. “Not a shaker,” he said. “That’s cool. You look familiar. Did we meet in the cave?”
Alzoria hissed between her teeth as the cart started moving. <Can you at least muzzle him?> she asked. <If he talks this much in the bushes, we’ll never take any meat.>
<It is a long way to the bushes,> Bao Sen pointed out. <He harms no one by talking.>
“So...” Ramirez spoke up. “Anyone know any good jokes?”
<He harms me,> Alzoria pointed out.
<Then you are free to leave,> Bao Sen returned.
“Okay, I’ll start,” the Ranger continued, oblivious to the conversation in front of him. “A Soldier, a Sailor and a Marine walk into a bar...”
It was Alzoria’s turn to thump her tail against the floor. <A Huntress hunts,> she grumbled, looking away from Bao Sen in defeat.
<Then she can do so without complaining,> Bao Sen twisted the knife.
“And the bartender goes, ‘sorry, but I don’t serve crayons.’”
He waited a moment to see if anyone would laugh, not expecting anyone to, but it was polite. “Okay, now you do one,” he said, nudging Alzoria.
The Huntress hissed but said nothing.
It was going to be a very long hunt.
* * *
By Ramirez’s watch it was almost five a.m. when the cart stopped, and the Huntresses all stood up. He followed suit and looked over the railing at the road behind them. It was still dark, though the first tiny hints of sun-up could be seen to the east. Grabbing his gear, he vaulted over the rail and landed in the soft dirt of the road below.
The Ranger took a look at their surroundings as the Huntresses dismounted. To their right was a farmer’s field, though there was nothing growing there at the moment. To the left, however, the wooded land rose steeply, its contents impossible to see through the darkness.
Bao Sen tapped his arm to get his attention, and once she had it, she knelt down next to him. He watched as she took out what looked like a glass mason jar with a white, spherical rock sitting in it. She poured some water from her canteen into the jar and tightened a lid onto it before shaking it a few times. The rock inside the jar began to glow with a pale, yellow light.
Putting the jar on the ground between them, Bao Sen began drawing in the dirt. Ramirez watched as her finger conjured a simple sketch of a four-legged animal with a long snout and a pair of antlers that twisted like corkscrews before splitting off into several directions.
<Datsu,> she said, tapping the drawing.
“Looks like a deer,” Ramirez commented.
Bao Sen patted her stomach. <They’re good to eat. That’s what we’re hunting today.>
“Datsu,” Ramirez repeated.
The Huntress pointed to an area of the animal’s chest just above where its forelegs met the body. She circled the spot and looked up at him.
“The heart,” Ramirez concluded. It was roughly in the same area you would find a deer’s heart. He tapped his chest where his heart (and the Va’Shen heart) was. “Heart.”
Bao Sen jabbed her finger at the spot. <This is where you hit him. He will go straight down. If you miss, he will run, and we will have to chase him.>
Ramirez didn’t understand the words, but the tone was every bit the same his father had when he first taught him to hunt on Vega. He knew without a translation that she was telling him to hit the animal in the right place the first time, or they’d spend the day tracking a wounded animal through the forest, and no one wanted to spend their day doing that.
“Got it,” he told her, tapping the same spot.
As one they both rose to their feet. Bao Sen took a beautiful, but well-worn, recurve bow from the wagon as well as a dark blue quiver made from the hide of some yet unseen animal. She emptied the water from the jar, allowing the darkness to return to the road and pointed up the hill. The Huntress leader called to the others and started marching into the trees as the others fell in behind her.
Ramirez hefted his rifle and started up the hill behind them. As they entered the tree-line and started climbing up the steep grade, he could see small, glowing lights jumping from tree to tree. He remembered seeing them in the woods near the mountain during their mission to find the villagers, but he hadn’t been able to find the cause of them.
He broke his attention from the lights and split it between the surrounding terrain and the Huntresses in front of him. There was still a chance this was a trap, and it was incumbent upon him to keep an eye on them while also keeping an eye out for tasty animals. At the same time, he had to memorize the route and any landmarks he could use to find his way back if he needed to return to the road on his own.
The Ranger slowed his stride and softened his steps as years of hunting experience and Ranger operations focused his mind on stealth. The need to keep up with the Va’Shen competed with the need to step carefully. The steep terrain made his body work harder, and he had to consciously keep the sound of his breathing from rising. He watched for brittle sticks and leaves in the darkness and stepped around or over them. He was going to show these ladies how a Ranger hunts!
They eventually reached the top of the hill, and it flattened out with the hunting party walking along the top of a wooded ridgeline. They continued walking. Occasionally, Bao Sen would point to two Huntresses, who would split off and move down one side of the ridge or the other or both. The rest continued walking.
The sun was starting to rise to Ramirez’s right, and the sky was an odd mix of green and purple as Va’Sh’s star, Bellatrix, peeked over the horizon and found them through the trees. Ramirez admired it for a moment. Moments like these were part of what made hunting so fun. He refocused his mind on stealthiness and continued to follow the Huntresses.
Further up the line, Alzoria’s ears flattened against the top of her head. <He smashes through the brush like a drunken yarl,> she complained. <He’s going to scare away the meat,> she hissed to the vixen in front of her.
Bao Sen growled low in her throat, not at Ramirez’s comparatively noisy footsteps, but the younger Huntress’s incessant complaining about him. She wasn’t exactly a fan of the Dark One either. She had only invited him to try to forge some kind of relationship with him that she might exploit later. But listening to Alzoria whine about him was becoming intolerable.
<Why did you bring him?> the blonde asked once again.
Bao Sen stopped in her tracks and turned to her, causing Alzoria to stop suddenly. She could see, too late, that Bao Sen’s ears were practically trying to burrow into the top of her skull in anger.
<If you’re so worried about him,> Bao Sen hissed quietly, <Then you may take responsibility for him. You two will take this spot.>
Alzoria’s tail whipped about in anger, smacking into a bush and shaking the leaves from it.
<Or if hunting has become such a chore for you, you can walk back to Pelle and ask to apprentice with a glassmaker!> Bao Sen had been pushed too far. Her authority within the Hunting Guild stemmed from her father’s position, and she was only the guild leader while he was away, but she was not about to let some rookie Huntress lecture her about her decisions. As long as she ran the guild, her directions were absolute. Alzoria, it seemed, was forgetting that and so needed to be put back on the proper path.
The blonde Huntress glared, but she then cast her eyes down to the ground in submission. <Yes, Bao Sen.>
Bao Sen got Ramirez’s attention and pointed at him and then to Alzoria followed by pointing at the ground. Ramirez got it and nodded, something Bao Sen had learned was an affirmative. She waved the others forward, and everyone in the group but Ramirez and Alzoria soon disappeared into the darkness.
The dim light of Bellatrix showed them they were standing atop a saddle in the ridgeline where the slopes toward the bottom on either side were not as steep as it had been in other areas. Alzoria took a look around, ears twitching in (almost) satisfaction at their location.
She jabbed Ramirez in the arm with her hand, and he arched an eyebrow. She pointed at him and then down the left side of the ridge. She pointed at herself, and then down the right.
The Ranger nodded. “Okay,” he whispered. “Yell if you need...” He trailed off as Alzoria’s back disappeared down the ridge. “Right,” he finished to himself. Hefting his pack, he started downhill to look for a good spot.
* * *
Patricia backed her way through the hospital ward’s swinging doors, careful not to spill the cups of coffee resting on top of the white chow hall “to-go” box in her hands. While the rest of the buildings on Jamieson had a sort of rushed, make-shift look to them, the Miller Theater Hospital was brightly lit and so clean Patricia was certain she could eat off the floor if she had to. Although most of the state-of-the art military medical equipment in the U.S. arsenal was useless on Va’Sh, the docs and nurses managed to do an incredible job with the equipment that did work and moved heaven and earth to get the patients they couldn’t help on to a ship in orbit to evacuate them to somewhere to get treatment.
But if you didn’t need state-of-the art treatment, you ended up in a bed in the recovery ward, Patricia’s destination that morning.
As she walked through the ward, she was surprised by the number of occupied beds. She had assumed there would be a few patients here recovering from common accidents, but there were more beds full here than not and most with what looked like combat injuries.
She turned a corner and found Specialist Burton halfway down the line of beds on the left. He had managed to avoid wearing a hospital gown and was instead in a pair of black sweatpants and a gray Army physical training shirt. That wasn’t particularly odd. What threw Patricia off was that he already had another visitor.
A tall blonde woman wearing a set of green and brown Marine Corps jungle fatigues was sitting in a chair next to his bed, writing something in a notepad.
Burton caught sight of her and waved, giving her welcoming grin. “’Morn’n, LT!” he said. “How goes it?”
The other woman looked up and saw her, hopping to her feet and coming to attention. “Good morning, Ma’am,” she offered.
“Good morning,” Patricia replied, gingerly holding out the coffee and food she had brought. Burton sat up in his bed and snagged the two cups of coffee so Patricia could put the “to-go” box on the table next to the bed. “Feeling better?”
“Doing great,” Burton told her, biting his lip. “So great, they’re shipping me out.”
“What?” Patricia asked, shocked. “I thought the wound was nothing!”
“It is nothing!” Burton confirmed in frustration. “But since it’s the first of this kind of wound from this planet and since they don’t know anything about the animal that caused it, they want to ship me to the Space Force hospital on Arcturus.”
The blonde, who up until now had been waiting patiently, broke in. “They think there’s a chance some particles of the creature’s... um... phlegm, I guess... might be stuck to some of the microscopic stone particles in the wound, so they just want to make sure.” She thrust her hand out to the Patricia. “Hi, by the way.”
“Oh! Hi! Sorry!” Patricia shook the woman’s hand. “Lieutenant Patricia Kim, Sector 13.”
“Hospital Corpsman Second Class Mina Fletcher,” the young woman replied as they shook. At first Patricia was thrown off by the rank, as it was a Navy rating rather than a Marine Corps rank, but a look at the woman’s collar showed she was, in fact, wearing a crow insignia with two chevrons under it.
“My replacement,” Burton added bitterly.
At Patricia’s questioning look, Mina nodded. “I just came by to learn a little about the unit and what it’s like down there.”
“Oh, well... It’s definitely interesting,” Patricia told her as she took a seat in the chair on the opposite side of Burton’s bed.
“It’s nothing!” Burton assured the Navy medic. “Just watch out for the bomb-spitting monsters and you’ll be good to go!”
“Yeah, that is definitely a new one,” Mina agreed with wide eyes.
“Fortunately, so far it’s the only issue we’ve had,” Patricia said, taking another look around at the wounded men and women around them. “I didn’t think this place would be so crowded,” she said in near awe.
“Most of these guys are from up north,” Mina told her. “Task Force Raven. Word is it’s not going very well.”
“How’d your debrief go?” Burton asked.
“They thought I was an idiot,” she told him frankly. She took one of the coffee cups and took a sip. “I think they were expecting a lot more violence, and when I told them we haven’t seen any yet they must have thought I was just a shitty intel officer.”
“We just got there,” Burton said in her defense. “Give it a couple of weeks. I’m sure someone will shoot at us eventually.”
Patricia smiled at the faux-reassurance. “Yeah, that’d be great,” she replied in mock exuberance.
“Trust me,” Burton told her. “You don’t know Staff Sergeant Ramirez like I do. That guy gets shot at everywhere he goes.”
The terp rolled her eyes. “I don’t doubt it.”
“So, what’s your plan?” Burton asked.
Patricia shrugged. “I signed up for a flight back to Pelle, but it’s going to be awhile until one goes that way with room. Just chilling out here until then. When do you leave?”
“As soon as they have a flight up to the Armstrong with room on it for me,” Burton told her.
Patricia nodded but didn’t say anything. Her mind had gone back to the outcome of her actual mission here. She was going to have to tell Captain Gibson that there was no “quickie divorce” option on Va’Sh, and they would have to dig a little deeper into the situation without upsetting Alacea and the Va’Shen or the chain of command.
The issue presented a real quandary for her. As an Army officer, she felt it was her duty to report what was happening to her superiors in the Combined Joint Task Force. They could take the proper action. The problem there was that the “proper action” would most likely be to get Captain Gibson off-world as quickly as they possibly could, and they didn’t know enough about Va’Shen culture to accurately guess what their response to that might be. The other problem was that this was very likely her fault, and she didn’t want to risk the troops at FOB Leonard or Captain Gibson’s career if there was a way to delicately extricate themselves from the mess.
As things stood now, Alacea’s assistance and intervention on their behalf could be the reason that the hospital beds around her weren’t occupied by Sector 13 Rangers. If they made an enemy of her, who knows what the Va’Shen in Pelle might do?
An image of Alacea leading an enraged Va’Shen army from atop a saddled yarl popped into her head, complete with a banner flying over the Mikorin’s head with the Va’Shen words for “A Woman Scorned” painted on it.
It was an exaggeration, perhaps, but the wounded soldiers around her attested to the value of a good relationship with the local community... even if that relationship was a weird interspecies marriage to a confessed intergalactic war criminal.
She snorted a laugh at the description. The whole thing was ludicrous from start to finish. The two medics turned her way.
“Sorry,” she said. “Something struck me funny.”
“What was that?” Burton asked.
She sighed. “All of it.”
* * *
Sho Nan, Mikorin Ya’Jahar of Pelle, silently prayed over the steaming bowl of soup sitting on the table in front of her, thanking the Gods for providing the ingredients and the knowledge she needed to make it safe and well. Holding her hands up, palms out like a human soldier surrendering, she whispered the holy words and then brought her fingers together. Opening her eyes, her ears flickered once in contentment, and she lifted the spoon.
Before she could dip the spoon into the admittedly thinner-than-she-would-like soup, a familiar set of pink twintails took the seat on the other side of the table from her.
Sho Nan put the spoon back down. Aside from her and Pavastea, the rest of the temple’s dining hall was empty, the other Mikorin having finished breakfast already. Now that they were gone, Sho Nan was looking forward to enjoying her own breakfast. It was the vow of the Mikorin Ya’Jahar that she not eat until all others she cooked for had, and the blue-haired vixen took her role very seriously.
<Are you here to eat?> Sho Nan asked her. <You may have mine.>
<Oh! No, thank you!> Pavastea replied quickly. <I’ve already eaten, I just wanted to... sit, I suppose.>
<I see,> Sho Nan said evenly. She picked up her spoon again.
<It’s just, I wanted to talk to someone.>
The Ya’Jahar put her spoon down again, but her ears and tail remained motionless. Most Va’Shen emoted with their ears and tails, and only very little could be discerned from their facial expressions, but Sho Nan was notoriously hard to read. She actually preferred it that way as it allowed her to keep many of her own thoughts to herself. It was particularly useful now when, although she liked Pavastea and wanted to be of help to her, she was rather annoyed at having breakfast interrupted after having to wait so long already.
<Something troubles you?> Sho Nan asked. <Usually you speak to the Na’Sha about such things.>
<It’s the Na’Sha I want to talk about,> Pavastea admitted.
<The Gods look down on a gossip,> Sho Nan reminded her.
The hair on Pavastea’s ears stood on their ends in embarrassment. <I don’t mean to be a gossip. I am worried for her and want to know if that worry is shared.>
<What are you worried about?> Sho Nan asked, her voice still low and even, betraying nothing of her own thoughts.
Pavastea looked down at the table, her tail flashing on one side of her and the other as it twitched back and forth in apprehension. <Ever since she announced her marriage to that Dark One, she has been treated with less and less respect. It’s like... It’s like they think she switched sides.>
<Did she?> Sho Nan inquired.
<Of course she didn’t!> Pavastea erupted. <She did what she had to do to protect us! Everyone who’s showing their tails to her now are only alive because of what she did! It’s like they really would be happier if the Dark Ones had killed her!>
<And you know this to be true?> the Ya’Jahar asked, idly stirring her soup. She showed not a hint of emotion even as Pavastea was slapping the table, her tail going wild behind her.
<Yes, I do!>
<Then why are you worried?> Sho Nan asked, locking her blue eyes with Pavastea’s. <A Na’Sha who acts appropriately has no fear of the Gods or Great Ones.>
<But it’s not the Gods or Great Ones who are judging her!> Pavastea shot back. <It’s those... idiots!>
<And the Na’Sha cares what idiots think?>
Pavastea was brought up short. She opened her mouth to make a reply, but no sound emerged.
Sho Nan stirred her soup as her friend visibly deflated in front of her.
<I suppose not,> Pavastea admitted quietly. <It’s just that she has so much to deal with already, and it seems like her own community is turning against her.>
The other Mikorin said nothing.
<She has been spending her mornings and evenings with that... alien,> Pavastea went on bitterly. <I can’t imagine how hard it must be for her. Can you imagine having to lay with one of those soulless things? No tail, no ears... It must be like being with a statue. It’s creepy!> Her tail shuddered in disgust.
<Not every morning,> Sho Nan said casually.
<Huh?>
<She’s not there every morning,> Sho Nan repeated. <She’s behind you right now.>
<Don’t even joke like that, Sho Nan!> Pavastea cried in dread. Her ear fur was once again standing on end at the thought of such an embarrassing situation.
She turned her head slowly as if afraid she was going to find a monster behind her. The fur on her tail puffed out in alarm a moment later.
Alacea stood behind her, looking down at the floor.
<N...Na’Sha! I... I...> Pavastea stammered.
<Pavastea is concerned about your marital activities,> Sho Nan offered on her behalf while also taking the opportunity to stir the pot.
Pavastea turned to Sho Nan in shock. <SHO NAN!>
<I... I heard,> Alacea said softly.
<Alacea Na’Sha! I’m sorry! I just...>
Alacea looked up, her ears twitching. <It’s all right, Pavastea. It is only natural that a vixen your age be curious about such things.>
<Oh, I am NOT curious AT ALL!> Pavastea cried.
Alacea played with her hair with one hand and looked off at the wall in embarrassment. <My Tesho has taught me many... many... things about their marriage practices,> she said. <Shall I show you their mating dance?>
<M...M... Mating dance?> Pavastea stuttered.
Alacea clapped her hands together. <Oh, yes! It is quite fascinating! First, you must cover yourself in mud! Then, roll about in a bed of fresh-cut grass.> She raised her hands over her head. <Then, the married couple raise their arms over their head and dance around a roaring fire while making sounds like wild pachu!>
Pavastea’s ears and tail went limp.
<Like this...> Alacea said and took a deep breath...
<It’s okay!> Pavastea cried, dropping to the floor and kowtowing to the Na’Sha before she could make animal sounds. <Thank you! I think I understand now! It is very fascinating!>
<But I’m not done,> Alacea told her in mild disappointment. <There are seventeen more steps...>
<Forgive me, Na’Sha!> Pavastea cried. <But I have other duties! Excuse me, please!>
Before Alacea could reply, Pavastea hopped to her feet and walked out of the dining hall as fast as her hanbok would let her, her long twintails bouncing behind her as she went.
Alacea and Sho Nan watched her go. Sho Nan brought the soup bowl to her lips and took a sip before speaking again.
<The Gods look down on a gossip,> she noted dryly.
<Indeed,> Alacea agreed, her ears twitching in amusement. <But I am touched by her concern.>
<Are you all right?> Sho Nan asked her seriously.
<I do not fear for my life,> Alacea told her. <And my Tesho treats me with great respect, more than I thought he would.> She turned to the Ya’Jahar. She and Sho Nan were closer in age and had grown up in the temple together. Despite how she presented herself, the Mikorin cook had a wicked sense of humor. <Did you enjoy that?>
<Immensely,> Sho Nan confessed. <And I am heartened that you can still make jokes.>
<Feel joy, and the Gods feel joy for you. Despair, and the...> She broke off before finishing the old idiom.
... and the Dark Ones feel joy in your stead.
It didn’t feel like a fitting statement, so she didn’t finish it. Sho Nan watched her over her soup bowl.
<You did nothing wrong,> Sho Nan told her.
Alacea looked up, surprised by the unbidden statement of support.
<A Na’Sha serves her community and gives her life for it,> Sho Nan reminded her. <You just did it in a different way.>
Alacea’s ears twitched happily. <Thank you, Sho Nan.>
<Have you come to eat?>
<No... um...> Alacea suddenly seemed reluctant. <I have come... for lessons.>
<Lessons?> the other vixen asked, her tail twitching in a rare sign of surprise.
<Yes, lessons,> the Na’Sha repeated. <I cannot keep bringing him overboiled lemess. I need to learn to cook properly.>
Sho Nan’s ears began shaking uncontrollably.
<It’s not that funny!> Alacea argued.
<Of course not,> Sho Nan agreed evenly. She rose to her feet and started for the kitchen. <I have some time before I must start the midday meal. I can teach you until then.>
<Thank you, Sho Nan!> Alacea cried. She fell into step behind her friend and followed her to the kitchen.
