Beinic Crisis

[Verdana]

In Beinan, the forgotten City of the Ice, life has never been easy. The stony ground will yield none but the hardiest crops, fit only for livestock to eat. Nonetheless, the Bei - the people of Beinan - have lived in the emptiness for thousands of years. Undisturbed by predators, they raise their woolly, bear-like oruga and their sinuous, flying reeva. With the mobility provided by their mounts, and the sustenance provided by other domesticated creatures, they live a successful, if not extravagant, life.

Of course, none of it would be possible without the Seekers. For, once or twice in a generation, a Queen is born. Female reeva are rare, but they are large, powerful, beautiful and intelligent. Only the noble females of Bei may ride a drone, but a Queen hand-picks her rider with deadly precision. Only the best of the young Bei may lay a hand on her. Anyone else meets a swift and gory end. The Seekers - the riders of queens - are the leaders of Beinan. They are brave and strong. It is their responsibility to fly away as winter ends, and spend the fleeting summer months gathering supplies wherever they can find them. Before winter returns to the land of Beinan, they return, their Queens laden with fruit and greens, minerals and kindling, enough to last the whole of winter.

Or, so they have.

This year, with winter drawing ever closer, there's been no sign of the Seekers or their Queens. The reeva grow restless. One Queen - the MotherQueen - sits upon a clutch. She too is uneasy. And in the meantime, the newest generation of Bei must walk the rocky path between childhood and the adult world.

Perhaps not a moment too soon.

[Verdana]

Character Stuff

Name: Tollo (widely known as Tol)

Gender: Male

Age: 23 years old - on the very end of his adolescence.

Appearance: Tol would have made a wonderful woman. He's a big fellow, both wide and tall - at least 5'4, with the hopes that he will grow taller - with honey-brown eyes and red-brown hair. His skin is Bei-dark from work out in the snow with the animals, and from poor bloodlines. He comes from a long line of middle-ranked Bei, with no clear means of ascension in sight. It is hoped that his good looks and good height - as well as his bulk - will guarantee him a good wife. He has strong, good teeth, a wide, open face and a prominent nose. Many men favour a clean-shaven look, in order to look more feminine. Tol is proud of his hair. He wears it long, and it is thick and curly. He is also trying to grow a beard. It has the potential to be formidable, but since Tol is young, it simply looks scraggly. His arms, legs and chest are thick with curly, coarse hair.

Clothing: Tollo wears leather boots and gloves almost constantly, only taking them off when eating or sleeping. He wears several tight layers of fur on his legs, with a thick leather pair of waterproof breeches on the outermost surface. He has a thick coat which trails down to the backs of his knees, and this has a high hood and thick collar. When he's outside, he usually wears a cloth around his nose and mouth. His most important item of clothing is his hip-bag, in which he keeps an astounding variety of very useful and unexpected things.

Personality: Tol likes animals more than he likes people. He thrives around the livestock, and enjoys all work with them. He milks the oruga and the hodd. He'll also de-fleece the oruga of other Bei, for a small price. He enjoys the extra work, because what he loves most is grooming, herding and being with the animals. They like him, too. The reeva always seem quietest and most responsive when he is on feeding them. He is gentle and quiet, with a soft hand and an intuitive understanding of what an animal thinks and needs.

If only he understood people the same way.
People confuse him. They are unpredictable and demanding, loud and complex. Tol withdraws around people. He is surly and irritable, communicating only in grunts and scowls. Females in particular make him very uncomfortable. He doesn't like the authority women have over him, and he especially doesn't like the way girls giggle in his presence. He tolerates his parents and immediate family, but there are only two people he truly likes: his best friend and co-worker, Namod; and his younger sister, Yasmina. Though he is surly, Tollo had a kind and generous heart. Those he loves, he treats with the greatest kindness he can. He's just not very good at expressing himself through words.
He shows his appreciation through gifts and actions. A smile from him is a treat, a laugh an anomaly to be treated with caution.

Job: Animal-tender. He works predominantly with the oruga, but has begun to be sent to the reeva-cages more and more often.

Orug: Tol's orug is an unusually hairy female named Mai. Mai is of average size, but her long fur makes her a desirable breeding partner. Tol has not bred her, for she has only just reached physical maturity, but hopes to do so in the future, when he can afford a desirable stud. His family would like to use Mai's offspring as a dowry for him, but Tol has other intentions. Mai has a white back, but a grey underbelly. Her darker belly skin retains heat. The darker skin and fur travels up her nose and chin, to her ears. Her eyes are hidden under masses of fur, but when exposed, they are a placid brown. She is good-natured and willing. She is not the fastest orug, but she is very patient, and can keep going as long as Tol tells her to. Tol takes excellent care of her fur, and in summer he sells it for clothing and blankets.

History: That we need to discuss ^^

[Startedraining]

Yasmina
20 | female | Yas
Theme

Yasmina is heavyset, and wide in the hips. She's sturdy and stands at the height of 5"2. Her hair is long and brown, usually neatly folded away in a braid, but sometimes left long, and her eyes were a dark brown. Her smile is large and inviting, and gives a good, hearty laugh when a joke is made. She's not as tan as her older brother, but from their tan bloodline comes her tan skin. Lighter skin appears in wealthy families, and wealthy was something she and her family certainly were not. The hair covering her body is usually shaved and her body is clean of any blemish, but during the long winter months, it's left to grow long out of sheer laziness.

Yasmina is the perfect snow monster. She's usually wearing thick leggings and boots to keep out the snow and moisture, and long sleeves to keep her arms safe from the dreaded snowburn. Her fingers are fitted into gloves that allow her movement and warmth, and not usually both at the same time. She has a hood of thick fur to keep her ears warm and lining on the insides of her clothes to keep her body heat in and the cold out. She also has a variety of bracelets, most of which are left at home. Only one remains on her wrist through the entire year, her reeva bones.

Yasmina is usually quiet around people, only those who she trusts will she babble on and on as if she has no end. Only Tol, her family, and a handful of people in her small town hear her laugh and joke through an evening meal. That doesn't seem to faze her, it only seems to make her more of an introvert. She seems to like her quiet, and her mind is always spinning about stories and myths that were her life-force when she was younger. You'd find under her bed are songs that she wrote to the sky at night while the lights were dancing, and occasionally, you'll hear her singing herself to sleep. She seems to think nothing of it, so why should you? On occasion she is blunt and rather rude, but the majority of the time she's kind and always helps out, even if she doesn't speak while she's doing it. Yas in short, is a dreamer, and a very powerful soul and posseses determination to do the right thing ALWAYS.

Yasmina is usually too caught up in her training to ever focus on a specific duty. Her many lessons on history and ettiquete passed down for a whole century seemed to be constantly on her mind. One day she would be married into a family of her own, and she would be making all decisions that surrounded her. It was a lot of stress for someone so young, but with tradition to uphold, she had no choice. You'll often find her in her books of marital training and history of Bei, a state that is hard to pull her out of.

Currently, Yasmina has no creatures to take care of, unless you count her brother! ((zing!!!!!!1))
Her Orug however, is more like family. He is hairy and gruff, and doesn't like the snow much, which sucks for him because the winters are long and very snowy.
She would love a reeva, though they are difficult to train and manage. All women get reevas eventually, she just has not chosen one.

[Startedraining]

It was snowing still. It had snowed all night and the night before, and the day before that. The blizzard seemed like it would never end. Yasmina woke up early. Very early. It seemed as though time couldn't even comprehend the snow. She had gotten her sleep, well, enough of it. She tried to look out the window, but frost coated the thin glass and blinding white flurries restricted her vision to mere feet. She took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut with determination, and pushed the covers back away from her torso.

Cold, cold, cold! Immediately Yas regretted her decision, but it was too late now. She sat up and slipped off the bed and reached for warmer clothes. She fastened the ties that kept snow out on her pants, and tugged on the tight boots that made her a bit taller when she stood. Her coat was hung over the door and she yanked it down to pull over her shoulders, shivering violently against the cold. Her face was already red. She found her gloves on her desk and pulled them on with numb and shaking fingers.

"I hope this blizzard blows over soon... this is getting ridiculous," she whispered to herself, her breath fogging in front of her face as she spoke. She debated finding Tol, but he was probably already out with the reeva by now, and she didn't dare venture outside until the wind slowed. She'd been hiding in the house since the previous day, and she wasn't planning too much to leave the safety of the walls.

She pulled the door to her room open violently, and stomped down the hallway, trying to bring life back into her already numb toes. The house was one story, and rather small. She passed Tol's room and looked at the closed door. Was he in there? She kept walking anyway, planning to light a fire in the home before her mother and father woke. She sniffed and touched her nose with her gloves, feeling the cold through them. She sped up and pulled logs down from a stack by the front door of her cottage, and placed them inside a brick cave with a chimney near the hallway she emerged from. She used a small match to light tinder, one she found on the top of the bricks and gently coaxed the fire to life. She exhaled, greatly appreciating the warmth it would bring.

"Breakfast time!"
Yasmina clapped her hands together once and smiled, feeling altogether better now that the fire was burning. She ran through the small room to a section of the house where food was stored. She examined the scarce food, wondering what Tol and her parent's would want for a morning meal.

[Verdana]

The cold climbed into bed with Tollo and cuddled him awake. They were old friends, he and the cold. It caressed his toes with familiar strokes and tickled his fingers fondly.
'Go 'way,' he thought, rolling over. Bad move. The cold was there too, and it had prepared the blankets especially for him.
"Alright! No use sleeping now," he grumbled out loud. It was his only late morning, for Namod took breakfast on a fourday (Tol would only trust him with it once a cycle, and more often than not he got it wrong). Yet sleeping in was impossible. There was no chance of slipping back under the covers. Cold had taken over his blankets. He may as well prepare for the day and head in early. That looked good to the Overseers. With a grunt, Tollo threw off his covers and let the frozen air of his room smack into his chest.

Tol had the bedroom furthest from the hearth. Their home was an oval shape, with the stove in the centre. Tol lived on one pointed end. Meat was cured and left to freeze on the other. Tollo was the son of the family. That was his place.
'Hardly better than meat,' he thought irritably as he shrugged on the first of two coats. His underclothes were already on. He hadn't taken them off to sleep. He would have been mad to do so. Not in winter, certainly. And winter had indeed set in. He decided against washing his face. That was a summertime routine. The bowl of water to the side of his sparse room was glazed over with ice. Tol remembered summer. He recalled waking up to sunlight, in a warm huddle under just one thick rug. Summer memories were to be treasured through the winter eternity, clutched like gems and traded like butter.

On the subject of butter, Tol wondered if breakfast was ready.

With the last of his clothing on - though his boots and gloves were unlaced - Tol threw open his door. To his right he could hear his Overmother stirring. She was a seamstress, and so could keep irregular hours. The housemother and housefather farmed tuam. They were fat, floppy, stupid creatures that laid fat, floppy eggs. Twelve of them lived on the property. Their hutch nestled against the warm wall of the house.
'It's probably warmer than my bedroom,' Tol thought, and wondered for a second if he should take up lodging in there instead. He decided against it. Tuam stank. Their rancid stench infused the house. Only the smell of wet orug fur and reeva spit kept Tol from reeking like them, too. Although, he mused as he wandered down the hallway towards the hearth, it could be worse. They always had eggs for breakfast.
And usually dinner too.
Oh, how sick he was of tuam eggs!

Yasmina called for breakfast just as Tol stomped into the kitchen. He immediately walked to the stove and warmed his hands. Funny. The stove was not as hot as it should have been.
“It went out?”
No ‘good morning’, no pleasantries. That wasn’t Tol’s way. Mina knew that he wished it on her. Of course he did. He didn’t have to say it every morning. It wasted warm breath. Besides, the fire was important. In winter - real winter, Dead Winter - it could never go out, or they would all freeze to death. It wasn’t Dead Winter. Not yet. But it would be very soon. It was time to take action. His parents had been letting the fire burn down at night, against regulations. That wasn’t good news. The family could not afford coal, and wood was a precious commodity.
“Save our wood. I’ll bring dung from work.”
Dung didn’t burn as long as wood or coal, and it smoked and smelled awful if it wasn’t dried well. However, dung was probably all they had. Tol was in a good position to collect it. He knew from winters passed that, while most families turned their noses up at burning dung in the early months, once Dead Winter hit they’d be scrambling for anything to burn.

“How is the food?”
In part, Tol asked because food preparation was Yasmina’s responsibility. She made breakfast on her own, and while the housemother still overlooked dinner, soon Mina would do that on her own, too. They both earned their keep in different ways. Still, Tol often wished that he could hide inside beside the hearth, memorising old history and what-have-you, rather than slogging through the sleet and snow to a job where being trod on, bitten, butted and battered was all a matter of routine. Instantly, Tol felt bad for even thinking such a thing. Comparatively, he had done well for himself. He could be a wall-builder, an ice-carrier, a scout. He was very fortunate. Young men would kill for the chance to work oruga, and some would die for the chance to work reeva. Tol smiled to himself. Overseer Dau had watched him carefully ever since he had started working hands-on with the oruga when he was nineteen. He had spent three years proving himself, but on his twenty-second birthday, he had been allowed into the reeva cages. Weren’t they something! The oruga were important, of course, and Tol loved them, but the reeva! The way they stretched those magnificent bright wings, and clacked their hard jaws with pleasure when he rubbed just so on their sinuous sides. Overseer Dau said he had a real knack for them. However, that praise was blunted by the other overseers. Overseer Moana wasn’t sure about him, and Overseer Balira - the senior overseer, and the one he most needed to impress - wouldn’t even look at him. Still, Tol never gave up hope. Not when he was wet and cold. Not when he was working both a job as an orug-boy and a reeva-hand. Not even when he was lugging chunks of raw meat, or flaky dried hay that always got down his back, across miles of snow.

One day, one day he would show them all that he was worthy.

So emphatic was he that he placed his hand down firmly on the surface in front of him. Unfortunately for Tol, that surface was the stove, which had heated sufficiently to scald his palm where his unlaced glove had slipped away. He yelped in pain and drew his hand back, shaking it as if to throw the pain away from him.
“Tollo!”
Tol cringed. The Overmother always had something to say to him. She was a good woman, but iron-hard and very strict. She liked order, and she liked her children to conform.
“Nothing,” he called back hesitantly. Then, rapidly lacing his gloves, he shot a desperate look at Mina.
“I have to get out of here before she finds me.”
The Overmother’s lectures could take ages, and Tol didn’t intend to stick around for one.

[Sorry it's so late. I've had assignments due.]

[Startedraining]

"Good morning, Tol," Yasmina smiled brightly at her older brother, wrapping herself up tighter into her coat. She didn't hear a response, which was normal for them. She kind of knew he wouldn't, but she had a hard time breaking her habit of greeting him, "The food tastes good, but I'm the chef, my opinion doesn't count!" Yasmina handed him a plate of tuam eggs, "It's your favorite." She grinned at him, and was swept up in affection for her older brother. She busied herself with cleaning up, reaching over to try to heat up the stove once more for the Overmother, who would be awake soon.

She found herself lost in her memories, then. A flurry in her mind turned into lights in the sky, and she was caught up in stories her uncle had told her and Tol as children.
"The sky dances, Yasmina," Her uncle smiled down at her five year old self, "Have you seen it yet?"
The small girl shook her head and pipped up curiously, "How does it dance, Upa, is it pretty?"
The man laughed, "Yes, love, it's beautiful... do you want to hear why it dances? Why it leaps and bounds in all those colors?" The girl nodded vigorously, taking Tol's hand and pulling both of them closer to their mother's brother. This was her favorite story.
"Ah, well, it all started back when the ice formed. Did you know the ice covers all of our land, and would never melt? I bet you did, smart girl... anyway, the ice bent and curled with the wind, creating beautiful landscapes that simply put, took your breath away. Even now, if you look across an expanse of ice, you can see the sculptures that they create. Yasmina, if you're ever worried, just know that the ice," he stomped his foot on the ground, "Is always constant. It is where you were born, your life and soul..." the memory skipped, "The sky one day saw the ice and thought wonderfully of it, the ice was a luxury the sky couldn't even fathom. Fractals of snow were constantly thrown up and tossed like confetti, but the ice could never touch the sky, no matter how hard it froze or how fast the wind blew, the land couldn't reach. Soon the sky fell in love with the ice, and sent down clouds and snow to build the ice taller, so one day it may grace the blue of the night and day."
Yasmina interrupted, "Did the sky ever get to touch the ice? Was it too cold for her?"
"No, no, the ice never got that far, the sun always burned up the ice before it got close. The sky grew angry and forced winter upon the ice, hiding the sun for days and weeks on end, shrouding the ice in darkness. The ice grew, and grew, but the sculptures were no longer pretty... the sky realized it's mistake, and brought back the sun. Summer melted the ice back to the ground. Every winter, when the ice becomes ugly and imperfect, the sky dances to remind the ice that she still loves him even in his worst forms, his harshest conditions, and every summer the ice melts to remind the sky that he loves her, and is always willing to be knocked down to be built up again."
Yasmina was in awe, every time she heard the story she thought the sky would be a wonderfully pretty woman and the ice, muscular and strong for her. She looked at Tol, smiling. Tol would be the ice. He was her ground. She hugged her uncle, "Thank you, Upa!"

She smiled to herself and put away the cleaning rag, then pulled her own plate of now cold breakfast towards her. Tuam eggs again, joy. At least it was food, and at least she wasn't going hungry, like some of the people in the town. She finished her food slowly, and didn't hear the lumbering of her mother as she got out of bed. The Overmother shouted Tollo's name, and Yasmina jumped slightly. Tollo had burned himself, but the Overmother had not seen it yet. Yasmina stood up exhaling a puff of white, ready to help. She looked at him and he looked back, a plea in his eyes. Yasmina nodded to the door, but grabbed his arm before he could escape, "Tollo, could I go with you to the cages today? I've nothing to do and I'm tired of being in here," Yas looked at the ground, knowing perfectly well that is was his choice, his domain was outside the home, and hers was inside. Although, she could just tell him to take her there, to oversee him, but since she was younger than him it didn't seem right to shove the Matriarch card down his throat.

[Verdana]

Tua eggs. Great. Just what they ate for breakfast every day.

Still, Tol scarfed them down without hesitation, clearing every fragment from his plate. It did not do to be a fussy eater in Bei. Food was precious, no matter how bland and unappealing it tasted. Protein was sacred. Every extra pound was an extra degree of protection against the cold, and one pound more to lose if a Famine broke out. Tol had never experienced a famine before, but his family had told him enough stories to keep him suitably wary. Still... tua eggs. It was like eating blubber. Worse, even. At least blubber had some sort of texture. Tua eggs just tasted like the tuam they came from: sour, fat, stupid and boring. Tol swore that, were he ever to get married, he would never marry a woman who farmed tuam.

Plate done, placed on the icing rack. The ice would kill any grease or grime. Tol was supposed to scrub it too, but he could hear the Overmother creaking her way through the house. He always wondered whether it was her old, battered stick groaning, or her old, battered bones. He felt a guilty satisfaction for thinking ill of the old woman. It was strictly taboo to disrespect the elders, and this was especially true of the Overmothers, who were the vessels of family wisdom and history. Could it be entirely wrong that Tollo wanted her to die? She was old, after all. Half-deaf, crippled with bone-ill, her teeth were rotten and she smelled funny. When she did, the housemother would become Overmother, and Yasmina would be housemother. That wouldn't be so bad, would it? Yasmina would be an excellent housemother. She studied very hard for it.

Tol laced up his boots and was charging to the door when something pulled back on his arm.
"I have to go!" he grunted, when his sister's question stopped him dead.
"The... Cages?"
Not the pens, for Orug. The cages. For reeva. Tol's face became blank as he considered the question.
"I'm... not sure whether that will be allowed," he replied hesitantly. But he did know. All women over the age of sixteen - in training for adulthood, in other words - were allowed near the cages. It was only men who weren't allowed unless working. But that wasn't why Tollo was reluctant. Tol was scared to bring his sister to the reeva for fear that she would outshine him. He was just, just getting recognised for his handling skills. It would be just like Mina to be better at what Tol loved best in the world.
"I suppose I could ask Overseer Dau. But you'll have to get the Overmother's permission. She'll throw a fit if she can't find you."

Speaking of the Overmother, Tol could hear her shuffling near the door.
"I have to go," he said again, pulling his hat out of his coat pocket, and buttoning his coat up to his chin.
"I'll wait by the crosspaths for a while. Come fast, if you can. And it's dark, so remember your Lantern!"
Only young children and unmarried women had to carry a lantern when the sun wasn't visible. But Tol grabbed one anyway. It wasn't sensible to go unlit in a blizzard. The pens and the cages weren't far out of the main city circle, but it was all too easy to take a wrong turn in the endless sheets of ice. Without a lantern, anyone could disappear into the snow and into the darkness.

Tol remembered how he had hated his lantern as a child.

'And where do you think you're going?'
Tollo was one step and two fingers away from the door. He turned slowly, looking mutinous
"To the shed, Upa. For firewood. Nanai sent me so I need to -"
'Without this?'
His Upa held up a small lantern, a soft flame flickering within sheets of yellowed glass. Tol frowned in protest.
"But Upa, the shed isn't far! I know the way! I'm seven years old now. I'm not a baby to get lost."
'The Night doesn't see age, my boy.'
Tol tipped his head.
"The night? What does it -"
'She, my boy. The night is a she. Or she was, once. Come here.'

"But Nanai said..."
Tol didn't protest too hard. His uncle told the very best stories, and this was one that Tollo had never fully heard. He sat respectfully in front of his uncle, who lit his long pipe. He puffed a pale smoke which smelled sweet and tickled Tol's nose.

‘Once, when Bei was young and far less foolish, the minor elements were just as precious as the impressive ones. We were open in our praise. We shared and we discussed. But slowly we veered from our deities -’
“What’s a day-tee, Upa?” Tollo asked.
‘It’s a god, my lad, but without the pretty decorations.’
“Oh.”
‘We veered towards those we found to be useful, and let the others rot. One such being was Darkness, Shadow. The Night. We feared the Night for all it held. Danger and death and uncertainty lay beside the Night, so we chased it away with hot fires and bright torches. It resented us for our hatred and our fear, and in return, it began to steal our children. One by one it snatched our little boys and girls away. We kept them inside, for fear of losing them.
But one day, a young woman named Camani went wandering. She was hunting Rem - for they have the prettiest hues at dusk. It was not yet dark when she left her home, but after a long and energetic search, Camani looked up, and saw that the sky had darkened and the shadows were tugging at her skirts. She ran home, and in her haste she dropped her gloves. She was a quick girl, but the darkness was faster. It gathered her up and near swallowed her whole -’
“And then what, Upa?”
‘Patience, boy! I’m not quite finished yet. She ran through the dark and found the city. The lamps were lit and she ran home, where she had no supper for being so careless. But Camani was not abashed. The darkness hadn’t hurt her. She was not afraid.

And the next morning, when she walked back, following her footprints to the edge of the lamplight, she found her gloves, neatly laid out on a rock.’

Tol walked quickly to chase the cold from his bones, the old story sucking on his mind. The lamps were lit, so he found his way easily to the crosspaths. He did not fear for his own safety, for he walked the route every morning. As he reached the stone cairn marking direction, somebody called his name.
‘Look who failed to sleep in again!’
Tol grinned, despite himself.
“And I was right not to. You’re late Namod.”
The boy scoffed and waved an arm flippantly.
‘Hardly. You watch. Rana won’t notice my absence. And if she does, it will do her good to fret. She’s gotten far too big for her boots since she as promoted to Junior Overseer. You’d think she was queen of the orug pens! I liked her better when she was a hand.’
Despite being two years older than Tol, Namod had never been promoted. He was a good-looking boy, with thick, dark, curly hair, a noble nose, clear grey eyes and an infectious smile. He came from one of the better families, which had landed him his job in the pens. But Namod was incurably lazy, which was as terrible a vice in Bei as fussy eating was.

‘So, how is your very lovely sister today? Is she begging for news of me yet?’
Tol didn’t take those sorts of comments very seriously. Namod didn't mean them. He was a terrible flirt but had no desire to marry, lest he be forced to work. Besides, Namod knew that Yasmina was a tender spot for Tol, and Tol knew just as well that reacting would only make Namod tease worse.
“She might join us.”
‘Oh?’
Tol nodded.
‘How wonderful. By the end of the week, she’ll have proposed and I’ll be your new housefather!’
“It’s just for today.”
‘Then I’d better make a good impression.’
“You’re a jerk, Namod.”
‘And you’re a stick-in-the-mud, Tol.’

In companionable silence, the two young men waited.

[Startedraining]

Yasmina nodded to her brother, letting his sleeve go, "I'll be quick about it, I promise," and turned to clean the rest of the small, icy, and cold kitchen, "Go quickly before she has your head for being here still!" she waved him away over her shoulder, using a small brush to scrape ice and grease from a plate. She had melted a bit of ice into water, but it was far from warm. It has to do... she thought, pushing the plate under the melted ice, and scrubbing again to get the last bit of yellow from the white porcelain. She heard the door open and a gust of wild wind stole into the home, and she jumped up thinking the fire would go out.It flickered and she thought for a terrible moment she would need to light it again, and by that time Tol would be gone and she would've missed her chance to visit the reeva cages, but the fire remained strong and steady, and she sighed with relief. Tol had left.

Yasmina finished the few dishes and trudged through the now-freezing-again home to where her mother was, "Uma," she began, "Can I go with Tol to the reeva cages? I've done the chores and will left a bit off breakfast for you and Pa." she smiled at her mother, who was perhaps an inch taller than Yas herself, and twiddled her gloved thumbs. Her mother looked her up and down, as if judging the amount of energy it would take to say no to her. Her hair was long and dark and mostly thinning now that she was getting older, and gray hair began to show when she tucked strands behind her ears. The older woman nodded, "Aye, get going, and take a lantern." her voice was rough from a night of deep sleep, and Yasmina nodded excitedly.
"Will do, Ma!" she said as she turned around so sharply that she nearly fell over, and headed for the door.

The lanterns rested by the door, unlit and protected from wind. Yasmina grabbed one by a handle and noticed it was light. She would need to get more burning oil when she returned home. She gently used a match to light it and cautiously opened the huge door. Wind blasted her face, but that particular gust ended as she stepped outside. The landscape was pure white, unspoiled by nothing other than the houses around hers. She pulled her door closed and her hood farther down over her face, and started to make the journey to the crosspaths. In some places, the snow was not so deep, and Yasmina hurried along the side of the beaten road.

She saw the two lanterns before the people, and Yasmina knew that Namod had joined Tol in his wait for her. Namod's height was nearly the same as Tol, and Yasmina couldn't tell them apart until they became clear from the snowfall.
"Namod! Tol!" she called for them, lifting her lantern higher, "I'm not late am I?"

She smiled brightly at them both. Maybe today she would choose a reeva.

[Verdana]

[It has been a really long time since I posted. I am a scumbag, and so so sorry.]

“What happened next, Upa? What happened to Camani?”
‘Did you collect your firewood like Nanai asked of you?’
“Yes, Upa. But what about Camani?”
‘If you would just listen, boy, I could tell you. Are you listening?’
“Yes Upa.”
‘Good.’

‘Now, Camani was by nature a curious girl, and tended towards obstinacy.’
“What is obstuhnissy, Upa?”
‘Stubbornness, my boy. In any case, she did not tell anyone about her gloves. Instead, she started finding excuses to stay out late. First it was collecting herbs, then feeding the family oruga. Each time, she returned after dark with her lamp lit. What her family didn’t know was that she only lit her lamp upon reaching the front door. Every night she waited for the sun to set. Then she sat on a rock, very still and very quiet, and as the light faded, she waited for the Night to sneak in.’

‘Night was curious It brushed soft fingers over her hair - so soft that Camani could barely feel it. It caressed her face, her shoulders, the hem of her dress. Week by week, the Night grew bolder. Camani fancied that she could see a shape, cut out of nothingness, of emptiness. But the Night never spoke, never did anything but watch and stroke and wonder. Camani stayed out later and later. The longer she waited, the longer the nights became, and the bolder was the Night. Sometimes Camani spoke, but the Night never answered. It only admired.

One day, a year and a day after Camani first forgot her lantern, she was late. She had never missed a meeting, and yet, on that Autumn evening, she did not appear. The Night flickered and fretted in its silent way. Camani did not come. It seemed she wouldn’t, but at last she tore from the warm light of the village, running fast and sobbing. The Night, instead of waiting near their usual boundary line, ran to meet her, and gathered her into a tingling embrace.

‘Why do you cry?’
The Night’s voice was quieter than a whisper, more a breath in the grass or a tickle in the ear than any voice, but Camani heard, and answered.
“There has been an offer made. They would marry me off. My family goes hungry. It is an advantageous match. But I… I…”

Camani wept, and for the first time the Night knew jealousy.’

Lantern-light appeared at the end of the path like a will-o-the-wisp. It grew to a path, which Yasmina eagerly tree. Tollo grunted. He had almost hoped that his sister would not be allowed to join him. He instantly shook away such an uncharitable thought. Yasmina had done no wrong to him. Besides, ever since he had gotten a job, the pair had barely spoken past housekeeping grunts. It would be fun to spend some time with her, he told himself. Late? Tol looked at the light. There was very little shining through the clouds, but Tol could tell the time of day well enough.
“No, but we will be if we don’t start off now,” he told her, turning and walking fast, so that she could not see the twitch of uneasiness on his face.

Namod was more forthcoming.
‘Well if it isn’t Yasmina! May I say, Mina-na, that you look radiant this morning. Your hair is particularly glossy.’
Up ahead, Tol snorted. Yasmina’s hair was hidden by her hat. In fact, only a thin patch of skin showed for her face. Tol fastened his snow goggles to his face as the sun momentarily broke the clouds, sending a shaft of brilliant light bouncing off of the snow.
‘What brings you here? Not looking for a man, are you? Because between you and me, the best specimen you’re likely to find is standing right beside you. I don’t mean to brag, but…’

Tol shut their conversation out and focused on finding the correct path. They would have to go to the Pens first. It was on the way, and Tol wanted to check on Mai. Even though he was not on the roster for breakfast, he felt obliged to ensure that Mai did not get short rations. He counted their markers, and watched their way. The pens were not far, but it was all too easy to get lost in the half-light. He always kept Yasmina and Namod close, but while he listened in to their talk, he stayed quiet and focused.

The Pens were in sight, and there was an energetic bustle of people milling about. The closer Tol got, the more unusual it seemed. Nobody came out to see their mounts until Full Sun. His step quickened with interest. People were shouting.
‘They’re back! They’re back!’
Tol pulled Overseer Shel aside as she ran past.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
‘The Entourage was sighted this morning. You have to go! You are wanted at the Cages. All hands needed,’ she told him in a rush.
“But breakfast -”
‘Breakfast can wait! Take Namod with you. All hands! Go!’

A strange sort of excitement swelled in Tol. The Queens were back, and he was to aid in the Great Unpacking!
“Come on!” he yelled grabbing Yasmina by the hand and pushing Namod ahead of him. The reeva cages were no more than then minutes away, if they ran.
‘What’s going on?’ Namod, to his credit, did not resist Tol’s prodding, but nothing would still his jaw.
“We’re needed at the Cages. The Queens have returned!”

[Startedraining]

Yasmina practically purred as her brother had confirmed she was not late, that she could still join them. She tried to ignore the stressed look on his face, and smiled brightly instead to Namod. "Hello, Namod! Where have you been all these nights, I wait for you and look to the window!" she held her thickly gloved hands to her heart and bat her eyelashes furiously, a fake frown pressing down her face.

She grinned again at his compliment, although she knew he couldn't see her hair, nor even much of her face. In that moment, miraculously, the sun broke through the dense clouds, bright white and blue sky shone down on the path that the trio was headed on. Yasmina blinked, blindly holding up her hands to the sun and it's warm rays. The storm was indeed breaking, to her relief.

They continued on in silence, allowing Yas to continue her thoughts. That would be great if she could actually remember them. She breathed heavily, feeling the cold air seep into her lungs and cause her to exhale her breath in a plume of smoke and cider. Smoke and cider... what an interesting phrase. Yasmina tried to think about what had caused her to start using it, but she had been hearing it all her life. She wondered where it came from. She mused, and all the while acutely aware of where they were and where they were headed.

As they neared the Pens, Yasmina heard a rough commotion, yelling and hustle from workers. Immediately, Yas caught up with her brother, taking his elbow and clinging to him like a small child. She heard something about the Queens? A sturdy woman in furs was stopped by Tol as she went by, and she quickly informed him. The words were a blur to her as the woman spoke quickly, but when Tol grabbed her hand and pulled her with him and Namod, she knew it must have been something urgent. She did not hear Tol and Namod talking, she was still blind to what was happening.

At the Cages, many people were running about and reevas were being transfered and moved around. "Tol, what is happening? The Queens?"