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Date Posted: 01:54:11 12/07/01 Fri
Author: Tristan
Subject: Dinner looks scrumptious!
In reply to: Corum & Yorik 's message, "That's me" on 20:57:10 12/06/01 Thu

Tristan wasn’t too happy with the poker idea, since he didn’t have any money, but he didn’t say anything. So far, he hadn’t really had to pay for anything, although that was mainly because Marz usually bought him what he needed, be it dinner or new clothes. He shook his head and sighed as his benefactor gradually lost most of his money, with Jeremy winning the majority of it, probably since he was the only one who’d actually played this silly game before. Tristan merely propped his chin up on one hand and watched them go at it, at least happy that the others had found a fun way to pass the time.

When it came time to go, he felt a little alarmed, since the muscles on his right side still pulled painfully every time he moved. That’s not good, he thought, so he proceeded to beg that they be allowed to rest a while longer. But the answer was no, so Tristan complained bitterly about having to ride on a roc with the others, especially since it made him look weak in front of Marz. But since Marz obviously opted to ride with Corum, and it would be stupid for three people to ride on one bird, he realized he’d have to pick somebody else. That left Tia and Justin.

Was that even a real option? Grumbling to himself, he climbed up behind Tia without saying a word. When she commanded the roc to rise into the air, he found that his hands had reached up to grip her shoulders almost as a reflex.

“It feels a lot different,” he explained, feeling the blood drain from his face, “When you aren’t the one doing the flying.” Like an idiot, he chanced a glance at the ground, and his heart almost beat its way out of his mouth. “Holy shit,” he muttered, closing his eyes and swallowing several times.

He didn’t remove his viselike grip from her shoulders the whole time, and when they finally dismounted, he gave her a look that said, Don’t you dare tell anyone about this! Leaving her to her own counsel, he hurried ahead to catch up with Marz, who was walking with Corum.

They all trudged through a path for what felt like an awfully long time, but there was one good thing by the time they got to the end: he felt close to being healed. Absently, he scratched at the stitches in his skin, anxious to cut them out as soon as possible since they itched like crazy. Immediately, his hand froze when the group of tribesmen emerged, all fully armed with bows and spears. They looked very silly with their face paint and little skirts and loincloths for clothing, making Tristan relax his other hand a bit, which had gone of course to his sword.

When it became clear that the tribespeople really were relatively harmless and were welcoming them as guests, Tristan was only too relieved to accept, since he was as weary as all the others. They sat down around a fire, and he felt himself shudder involuntarily at the mention of the dinner menu, though he did perk up when the goat’s blood was brought around. He drank his fill when he got his cup, savoring the rich, creamy taste of the blood. Much better than vulture blood, he thought, drawing his finger along the inside of the now empty cup and licking the tip so he wouldn’t miss any leftover drops.

A few of their group left, but most stayed where they were. Tristan got a kick out of watching the tribespeople gawk at Corum as if he were their risen god or something. After a few minutes, some matronly women dressed in goatskins emerged from one of the main cave entrances, chatting amongst one another as they carried bowls of what must be dinner. He tried not to stare, as they were completely unclothed from their waists up, their soft, ample breasts making his face turn slightly red. When they arrived to the campfire and began setting up the cook fires, he saw that the contents of one of the pots placed closest to him actually…moved. He felt something lurch inside him when he realized it was entirely filled with live tarantulas.

“We need to leave, now,” he said, wrapping his fingers around Marz’s arm. “Anybody want to go looking for some real food?” He proposed the question through gritted teeth, trying not to look at what awful things the other bowls might hold. Some of the people looked a bit insulted by his suggestion, but he didn’t notice.

“I don’t like spiders!" he hissed when Marz gave him a questioning look. “You know that.” He didn’t really feel all that sissy about reminding him of that, so it was okay, even though Corum was right there, on his other side, as well. Corum was just…well, Corum. Who knew if he even heard things the way normal people did.

Before he could insist that they leave and go hunting or something, Laurel spoke up, momentarily diverting his attention, as she was speaking loud enough for all to hear.

“How about some entertainment before your Ollo is to sing?” she asked Kima, who smiled and nodded, thinking it a bit strange that this female spoke to a strange male without even being given permission by her chief or husband. She returned his smile and removed the bundle she had kept strapped across one shoulder and over her chest, revealing a small miniature instrument case inside. She opened the case and withdrew a baby lute, strumming a few chords to get it in tune before beginning a slow, soft-stringed song, a tune she’d learned from a group of shepherds who lived near her school.

“Sing the chorus, sari,” she told Rowan, who made a face at her. “Come on, love, you know it. Sing it with me,” she pleaded. After rolling his eyes a bit, he complied, his rougher voice sounding strangely comforting with her well-trained one. Rowan knew he didn’t have a very good singing voice, but somehow it always sounded okay when he sang with his sister. Besides, at this point, he was feeling a little depressed of late, and maybe singing a couple of light ballads and country lullabies would cheer him up a bit.

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