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Weatu, LeJene tribe
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Date Posted: 12:03:45 10/17/05 Mon
In reply to:
Narcissa and Mimiteh
's message, "Approaching the Paws" on 20:40:33 09/12/05 Mon
Nobel Weatu frowned as he watched his head sentry approach through the grass, and put a paw on his daughter's tail to hold her still. Frear, a staunch and swift fellow with caramel fur, black points, and the silver eyes characteristic of the male LeJene, bowed perfunctorily before his Nobel.
"A young female out of the north, sire, alone."
"Alone?" Weatu's frown deepened. Had the terrible wind-demon from the air decimated another tribe? Only days ago the LeJene, bearers of silver, had been attacked with no warning. A shadow had materialized in the air above them, falling like a bolt of lightning and killing where it hit. Many bodies had been laid to rest in the deep streams. The LeJene were now only twenty-two in number, having lost nearly that much to the demon and the resulting injuries. They had not traveled, huddling in this valley with weariness and fear written in every face, looking to their Nobel for answers, but what answer could he give for the wind demon? Only his daughter Mimiteh was in good spirits these days, and she was a great blessing to the tribe.
"Take Kelnira and bring the stranger to me," he said at last.
"Are you certain that is wise, sire? Should we not question her first and then - "
"Do as I say." Weatu met the sentry's eyes mildly, and Frear bobbed his head and wheeled about, calling for Kelnira, and together with her disappeared over the hill to the north. Weatu lifted a paw to rub his nose. "Mark this, sweetling," he said to his daughter, and nuzzled her behind the ears. "In times of trouble, distrust can be the worst enemy. Silent Paw have never fought each other. We are civil."
"Yes, daddy," the kit said obediently, looking up at him with frank adoration in her beautiful eyes. "Can I stay and talk to the stranger? Huh?"
Weatu smiled and licked her cheek. "If you promise to be still! Quick, now, go fetch your greatfather."
A moment later the kit returned, bounding ahead of Weatu's father. Asred came up beside him and bowed as deeply as his old bones would permit. "A lone female from the north," Weatu told him.
"Yes, Mimi informed me several times." The jade green elder winked at the kit and leaned briefly against his son's shoulder. "Here she comes, Mimi. Take a sniff and tell me what tribe she's from."
Frear led the way and Kalnira came behind the stranger, a small female with fur of delicate light pink and dusky rose points, regarding Weatu with eyes of evening blue. He was surprised to see that she was very young indeed, barely come of age, yet she held herself with a calm readiness that he could not help but admire. She had the air of someone who has traveled far and seen many things wonderful and terrible, and had a long way yet to go, and looking at her Weatu felt a flare of envy.
"Ooh!" Mimiteh cried, bouncing up to her and sniffing her legs, her paws, her chest, her haunch, her tail. "She's...LeImbe! No, no, LeDarlane! Le...LeIste? She smells like shadows," the kit said to her father.
"All wrong," the stranger said in a pretty, piping voice. "Try again."
Mimi screwed up her face in thought, and Weatu's nose twitched as he regarded the smell of this stranger. As a Nobel he had been required to meet with members of every tribe in the Valleys, and had learned all of the scents, but it had been years since he had caught this one. But he found himself distracted and troubled by his daughter's words, because she was right - something cold and dark clung to the stranger's paws and hung in her fur, something he could not quite grasp.
"LeNibeinah? LeOlarn-Edri? Oh, what is it?"
"LeBrandenburg," Weatu said, blurting it out the moment the answer came to him.
The stranger looked at him in pleased surprise. "Yes, that's right. I am Narcissa LeBrandenburg."
"LeBrandenburg!" Mimi squeaked in delight, rolling over in the grass. "Bearer of...of...."
"Break it up," Asred reminded her, smiling. Frear rolled his eyes, but Narcissa looked amused.
"Branden...that's, um...."
"What are you doing right now?" prompted Narcissa.
"I'm thinking. Thinking - thought! Branden means thought!" Mimi looked very pleased with herself. "And burg, that's deep, like the pond I can't go near. So LeBrandenburg...deep thought? Bearer of deep thought?" She looked at her father; no one else would do.
"That's exactly right, dear. Very good." He smiled at her warmly and she capered in delight, singing a happy nonsense song about bearers and thought. Weatu turned his attention to the stranger. "Narcissa LeBrandenburg, flowing waters sing at the meeting of friends. I am Nobel Weatu LeJene. This is my daugher Mimiteh, and my bluefather Asred. You are welcome to our tribe. Please tell us of your destination and purpose."
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