Lost .. Without Color

Despite my excellent mood all day yesterday I am still plagued by dreams at night. I moved pink to my slave wagon .. I have seen the aftermath of some of my dreams .. she should be safe enough there for now. At least until the worst of it passes again.

Last night was no different .. save when I reached the desert it actually appeared different. The color was gone. The Sky painted in shades of gray .. the sand was white and appeared more like clouds over water on a dreary day. Not only was I left with that distinct upside down sensation but .. I felt pale and weak .. transparent.

I wandered longer this time before I found anyone. Lost among the shades of no color. Easing through shadows that did not seem real enough to be shadows .. more like ... shadows of shadows. Some kind of watered down .. copied too many times ... and bleached reflection of a world.

I came upon a boy who played with a toy wagon .. oddly enough the wagon was painted red .. and I could see the color. It was a boy I had never seen in the desert before. Though his dark hair and dark eyes felt familiar to me. I called to him.

"I do not remember you being here .. in the desert."

"I am not from the desert." The boy replied.

"Why are you here then? This is not the kind of place to visit."

"I am hiding here."

"But whom are you hiding from? This is a dangerous place .. why would you choose to hide here?" Even as I queried I glanced around .. feeling protective of the small boy and knowing first hand the terrible beasts that roamed and devoured things in the desert.

"It is easier to hide among many enemies than it is to hide among many friends." He replied.

I had to think about that for several moments .. studying the small boy before I spoke again. "You are very brave."

"I have no choice. I want to live. He will change me if he can. But I like the way I am now and I do not want to be like him."

"You look a little like him."

"It happened before I was able to make it to the desert. But the change stopped as soon as I entered."

"It is lonely here .. how will you survive?"

"I am not afraid to be alone. Will you come and talk to me?"

I opened my mouth to ask a question .. but instead I spoke .. "I can not always find my way here in the desert. I can not always choose who I speak to here."

"I will find you if you want me to. Will you protect me?"

I was shocked. "Me? What can I do? I fight .. but never gain any ground. I struggle .. but to what end? I am tormented .. but for whom?" But despite my protests .. my inability to understand why he would ask such a thing of me ... the look in his eyes caused this sense to rise up in me. This need to protect .. and I said to him. "I will .. I will do this. I will protect you."

The boy smiled at me and nodded.

The battle last night was much the same as always. The beasts were just as horrific and the blood was just as real. The pain was no different. However when I woke in the morning covered in sweat and my muscles screaming with hard use .. I felt a sense of accomplishment. In one small promise given .. I felt that perhaps .. just perhaps ... there was reason to it all.

Search for Grass

Still quite high on my own self growth .. my own maturity ... I hit the trail with renewed energy and self importance.

Grin

Moving always put me in a good mood and today was no different .. it just put me in an even better mood.

The air was cold .. crisp ... but the rays of the Central Fire held a hint of warmer days to come. The wagons moved out with their normal ordered chaos .. the shouts of children .. the calls of women .. the quiet chatter of those grouped together. The snap of colored flags in the breeze .. the light radiating off the leather domes with warmth. The grunts and protests of the bosk as they strained against their yokes. The yells of men as they started the herds. It was all like an energy that raced through my veins and teased the capillaries into life. My entire being rose with it .. stretched towards the Sky. Pride filled my chest. I was proud to be a Tuchuk man today. Proud to be a part of it all.

But I did not linger on all these feelings .. there was much to be done. Much to oversee and direct. Not only with my own responsibilities .. but to help those that had seen to my possessions when I was gone. These people I needed to feel like I repaid somewhat .. at least as much as I could with my time and energy.

Today I can not escape how good it feels to be Fonce. I have so much to be thankful for .. so much to feel good about. Perhaps tomorrow reality will tap me on the shoulder and I shall remember all the personal frustrations that I wrestle with .. the things that help define me as a Dreamer .. a Thinker. But this morning it is all dimmed by the entire glory of my People. The Tuchuk as a whole .. not the less than perfect pieces which we all are ... but how we fit together to make the perfect whole. Strengths and differences matching with weaknesses and pains.

It was with glinting amusement in my gaze that I picked up a tired calf and threw him across my saddle .. the mother following Rocca and the sounds of her baby as we rode with the herd. I am not sure he appreciated me breaking out into song .. not sure anyone really appreciated that ... but I did. I could not contain how I felt. Poor calf is probably scarred for life.

Grin

Selective .. Memory?

I have seen Leonette several times since I have returned. She seems the same .. yet different. Perhaps a little older around the eyes. A little softer within them. Is that what pride and maturity .. life with a mate .. is that what these things do to a woman? It wears well on her. Gives her another color to an all ready varied pallet.

She has spoken kindly to me .. with a bit of honesty that I appreciate. The kind of honesty I could take as weakness but I know is not. That she trusts me to know the difference makes me feel good .. makes me want to be a better man for it.

Why is it that when people believe in me .. push me up even when I do not deserve it ... that it makes me want to be a better person. But when they drag me down with bitter words and bitter lies that there is some irreverence that makes the wicked boy come out. Those that know me are aware of this by now .. those that do not know me seem to be making an obvious spectacle of themselves by getting me all wrong yet again. Those that actually give a shit ask me what I think and what I believe.

I do not know what all has happened to Leonette while I was gone .. but one thing that has happened is .. she is capable of giving a shit about me as a person. It shows .. it shows in how she treats me. In so many ways I do not deserve it from her .. yet she offers it now. She offers me trust .. trust that I will not take what she offers and see it as a weakness .. or a crack in the shell to exploit and hurt her with. She is one woman that I will easily hand over the right to be angry with me. I have done things to her I am not proud of. Frustrations I allowed to rule my temper. There are not many I will give that to .. she is one. And yet .. somewhere she learned trust. It was not from me .. if I had to guess I would lay it at Ramza's door. Accolades to that man. Ramza may not be the most competitive .. glory sleen around but I have never seen anything about Ramza that would make me question his strength or his honor. And if it is Ramza that has given Leonette the ability to trust me when I do not deserve it .. he has my eternal thanks.

At first .. I thought it was my selective memory that teased me. Drew me to her. Forgetting the way she hurt me. Was I erasing everything back to the time when she knelt at my feet and I wanted her so badly it was a sickness .. a fever in my brain that drove my senses to the point of manic frustrations .. which I then took out on her? How could I set the moments when she hurt me so badly .. aside? I even told her .. I was remembering things differently than I should be. I do not think she completely understood though or she would not have been so open with me.

I was frustrated with this selective memory. It was wrong to see her as a slave again .. she was nothing of the sort. If I honestly thought she was a slave I never would have freed her .. given her the chance to be a free woman .. a Tuchuk free woman. I felt I was dishonoring her .. with this. She had done nothing to resemble slave like behavior. How could I feel this way? How could I not only dishonor her by this but even Ramza?

I struggled with it for some time .. until I had a conversation with Cana. No .. I did not share this mental struggle with her .. but it so happened I was drawn to speak to Cana and I realized it was the same draw. Only .. I did not see Cana as a slave ... good Sky of course not. I saw Cana as a friend .. a friend who understands me at least enough that she knows .. or believes what kind of man I really am. Knows enough to defend me as a person.

So perhaps this was not what I was afraid it was. Perhaps it was not a selective memory .. but a memory with growth. Perhaps I was responding to Leonette's trust in me as a man to respect her and even what might seem as a weakness. Perhaps I was drawn to that trust .. just as I was with people who believed in my integrity .. my honor.

The entire idea cleared my mind like a breath of cold air clears the senses. It was a weight that lifted off my shoulders .. relieved by the maturity of it all .. the obvious growth. I wanted to seek her out and tell her everything .. quite proud of myself... but that is not what I shall do. I shall simply strive to be the man that she believes me to be now. The man that will respect her .. even respect what might be seen as weakness. To be the man that knows it is not. To be Leonette's friend. I am very fortunate to have two women that I can say that about.

I still want to share a bit of grass and sod with Ramza ... he has given me my friend back.

you left me
and I didn't look back
your precious pains
clutched tightly in your hands

I love you a little less
than I did yesterday
for your abandonment
when I walked away

and in all the places and in all the times
from all the stories and from all the rhymes
when all my verbal pixels are penned
am I your beginning or am I your end?

so where are you going?
I'm headed this way
but don't turn around
when I want you to stay

there's nothing I can do or say
to make you want .. to stay
no there's nothing I can do or say
to change that part
of my dead and bloated heart

wash your hands
get out while you please
because you scare
the living shit out of me

and
I want you to know
if you don't surrender
and become all I need
I might forget to remember

in all the places and in all the times
from all the stories and from all the rhymes
when all my verbal pixels are penned
am I your beginning or am I your end?

dance marionette
to the piper's rune
and when you walk away
I'll whistle the tune

but
I want you to know
if you came back along
I'd love you some more
just because it was wrong

and
I love you a little less
than I did yesterday
for your abandonment
when I walked away

and in all the places and in all the times
from all the stories and from all the rhymes
when all my verbal pixels are penned
am I your beginning or am I your end?

©2009 Revisited on a Night Without .. Beauty

In My Vain Attempts

You are gone today .. and I can not seem to find you. You have gone missing before but it never felt this way. Today I feel responsible. I feel .. that you are gone because of me.

At the same time I blame you for being gone. Being gone when I need you. I sound like I am two. Childish demands for comfort without any real connection to the realities of life. However .. it does not change the heat of my temper .. nor the tantrum building inside of me.

In my clumsy attempts to capture Beauty .. have I then marred the fragile and delicate natural substance that makes Beauty what it is? Should I have left Beauty to roam and flit .. without drawing this thing to me personally? Should I have continued to chase it through time and space careful never to touch this perfection? Should I have left it all as it was .. forever ... like a picture painted ... a frozen moment. Clear .. concise ... never growing or changing. Never maturing .. never touched by time.

Have I lost it all in my attempts to own this experience for myself? Has my selfish need become the bane of my desire? Or is it all simply my paranoia faced with a few brief moments without you here .. with me.

Is it all worth the way I feel right now? I do not like how I feel .. I do not like this pain of separation. Is it part of the experience? Is it part of reaching out to feel? Is it part of accepting emotions? Is it really .. worth it?

Where is the numbness I have grown so accustomed to? Where is the familiar poppy's draught of ease that sooths my waking moments and litters my dreams with color and depth. This clarity is too sharp .. too bright ... too real ... and without you it is too painful to face.

Once more I wrap myself in the shrouds of peace .. the quiet comforts of the Lethe as it laps with tender touch against the bank where I repose. All that was before this becomes like wraiths of memory that toil the current with no more connection to me than a barely remembered dream. Embalmed with spiritual design that purifies my needs until they are sterilized .. safe from my desire lest I seek to consummate ... to reach ... to attempt once more

...to capture Beauty.

©2009 Written in Search of .. Beauty

On the .. Edge

The edge. That place where everything pauses .. breath held ... waiting. The future's horizon stretched out before you .. the past over your shoulder and the universe waits for you to take that first step from one into the next. Sometimes that sensation lasts only a moment .. sometimes it stretches out into days. At least .. for me that is true.

This particular time the sensation is stretching out for me. Like remembering a dream when you are awake .. catching just a hint of that ethereal .. otherworldly feel. A hesitation to take that step just because you are savoring that moment for what it is.

My slave and I have settled into a kind of comfort. She seems happy with the way things are .. or perhaps she is still sore from my sharp words. She has not failed in her duties nor slacked from her chores. Sometimes there is just silence between us .. other times she plays her flute which is relaxing.

I have seen sumki a few times now. There is something a little addicting about the sexual connection without any feelings. There is an energy that comes from pushing each other from a completely different platform than either one of us is used to. All right with each of us thinking about someone else while we do it. Using the frustration to challenge each other .. translating each emotion strictly sexually. In the end being sexually sated while our emotions are still hungry .. seeking ... starved. And laughing about that with each other. So honest .. so clear.

I am not saying it is healthy or good for us .. but neither am I saying it is not. Neither one of us seem to have anyone to talk to and in my case .. I am not so good at the "talking" about things like this. So this release takes the edge off. I do not want to feel comfortable right now .. I want to feel excited and hungry... this works for me.

I am not sure what is about to change .. but I feel it. I feel the edge. I know I am about to step forward and move in some new direction. I believe it is made stronger by the push to search for grass. But it is more personal than just the normal routine that is an integral part of our lives. I have not tried too hard to figure it out .. finding a certain pleasure in that moment of held breath .. that edge.

Why Not .. Me?

My slave pink had come to kneel at my feet. I hid a bit of a smirk at that .. you could feel her slight reluctance like a wave through the air that washes over and through you.

I was not unaware of her reactions to me when I returned to my furs the other night. Surprised? Yes .. I was. I am not used to jealousy among slaves .. it is something I know exists and I am sure I have even inspired it myself ... however actually having one let me see it is another thing. Usually slaves are punished severely for such things. Unless the man actually gets off on it and then it is inspired and encouraged. I however .. do not.

I have spent a little time studying my slave. Watching her when she does not know it. Observing her routines .. how she spends her time. Some of it makes me chuckle .. some however I puzzle over.

Once Cana left pink attempted to serve me .. but as I watched her rather intently she started stumbling over her words as she attempted to offer me trivial needs and/or wants. I asked her if this was how she actually wished to speak to me.

She said no but that she was not sure she had the right words. I asked her .. are there always the right words? So in the spirit of the day .. I asked her what she sought.

She said she sought for understanding .. to make sense of things that confused her ... that she sought me.

huh

I told her she had done nothing of the sort. Sought me .. my ass.

Then I asked her just what she wished to understand?

She said she wished to understand me .. but that there was so much she did not know where to begin? I queried .. so you do not begin at all? Does that seem the best way to proceed?

She said no .. probably not the best way but she did not wish to displease me with her quests. She said there was such a freedom here that went against much she had been taught but that she reveled in.

I told her I had seen this in her .. seen her reach for the Sky .. finding her way here. But that I had also seen that something had pushed her out of that peace she had found. And I asked her what exactly that was.

And she replied .. "Why .. not me?"

If only I were a more patient man. If only I were a nicer man. If only were a better man and I did not let that little irreverent daemon stir my blood and raise my temper .. blowing sweet kisses over the slumbering coals.

If only .. but I am not.

My lip curled enough to expose the white of eyetooth and I asked my slave .. "You do not like the smell of another woman's sex on me? Did it make you sick? Turn you off? Did you hate sleeping next to me with her scent all over my skin?"

I was rewarded with the emotions that raced and flushed over her features .. liquefying her eyes ... warming her cheeks and filling her lungs .. straining her breasts against the fabric. For a moment I thought she was going to cry. But she did not .. she said to me .. that it hurt her. It hurt that she was not good enough.

If only I was a more mature man .. interested in the emotional health and growth of my slave. I would have addressed the fact that she did not believe herself worthy. That my act had wounded her personal identity .. her self worth as my slave.

If only .. but I am not.

Instead I said to my slave .. "Poor pink. You should have been a free woman. You crave me .. yet the simple flavor of another woman makes you avoid me .. turn a shoulder to me." And I let all the distaste and pity those words afforded thread through my tone.

And it cut her .. as it was intended to do .. but instead of rolling over and showing me her belly she lifted her chin and begged me to tell her why she felt the way she did.

There was the first little glimmer of something for this slave .. but instead of showing her that I simply yawned and brushed the dung dust from my fingers on my pant legs and said to her .. "Because you think you care .. yet you are caught up in your first jealousy .. nasty little emotion pink."

She said to me she did not understand why she felt such a thing now .. here ... with me. I told her if she had never experienced it before it was because she had simply never feared loss before.

She said it had all been a process before .. but here with me it was different. At this point she had my attention ... even if I did not make it obvious. But then she said it was me she wanted .. even if it was selfishly ... she would not stop wanting me or my kiss. It was me she wanted to be with.

Ha

The blade was exposed again.

"And yet .. you ran from me simply because I sought pleasure with another woman? And I should reward that? Are you free that you can pick and choose when you seek me? My kiss? My attention?"

She said something .. went on about Sky only knows what but it did not mean anything to me and I dismissed it with a gesture and went on to explain my point since she had obviously missed it ..or at least missed letting me know she did not indeed miss it. Either way.

I told her .. a slave who is comfortable with herself and who she is would have crawled into my arms that night .. reminded me what I was missing anywhere else but with her. Reminded me why I chose her .. in my furs. Replaced every scent and smear of body fluid with her own ... and done it better.

I told her that her fear made her weak. Weakness would not survive here. Not with me.

She claimed she would not make that mistake again. At first I thought it was a threat .. and my slave came very close to meeting her end right there .. the energy had all ready left my brain and was making a swift path to intent down my arm when she replied that .. she would not make the mistake of being afraid of me again. Good save.

I asked her then if she had it all figured out .. solved it all on her own? She changed her tune just a little and said that is how she wanted it to be but that .. she was not sure exactly how to get to that end ... that she would need help. Good save.

I told her I would help her .. but she would have to stop savoring her fears and letting them control her. That every time she did so she gave them power .. power to create the very things she wanted to avoid.

At that moment I was called away .. as a commander. It was something I could not wait for and so I left her with that. I still do not know exactly where she is at in her head .. I am sure I need to go back and find some of the pieces I cut from her flesh and figure out if any of them were important enough to sew back on. She has made herself scarce since then .. and I have been shouldered with more work as my strength has returned. I still do not know what effect my words will have on her.

Sometimes I wish I was a more gentle man ..

But I am not.

A Touch of .. Beauty

Beauty. I have done a lot of thinking on that in the passed few hands. What that means to me .. and it is much more than a physical attribute. It says more to me than attractiveness. It is more than lust or that certain something in a woman that brings out the sexual predator in me. And not that I have anything against those things .. those things are an important part of my life and I enjoy those experiences. But there is something else that I have sought a word for .. sought to define ... giving the infinite a finite skin ... if only for a moment that I might touch it briefly.

When I say that I saw Cana today .. and she was looking beautiful ... it grabs just a hint of that something I am trying to define. Like a pot of things thrown together .. stirred and simmered.

There is respect .. for her as a person. Her integrity and patience. Her diligence with the Tribe .. with her children ... with her mate. There is honesty and loyalty. Self sacrifice and long suffering. There is spunk and wit .. fire and just enough sadism to make her interesting.

Some day .. when I can place those qualities with the other things that inspire me about a woman .. when I can bring it all together under that word Beauty ... that is the woman I will take as mine and hold her close to me for as long as the Sky allows.

Those other things that inspire me I will leave off defining for another time for they are much too detailed .. while still being raw clay ... for me to attempt here and now.

Today I saw Cana and she was looking beautiful .. and not just because she brought me honey ... that did not hurt though. She spoke with me for a time and though we exchanged much of the normal sort of conversation .. there was one thing that stuck with me. She brought me a gift .. a piece of leather with a fish painted on it. It was from Also. For me.

That touched me.

She said she had been hoping that he knew what a fish was .. I told her he know all right ... and he knew where they belonged too. I assured her in no uncertain terms the boy was smart .. very smart ... with a unique way of seeing things that I believe is a gift.

She fussed around a little about me and how I was doing .. I assured her I was well ... she said she had a right to fuss since she had adopted me ... not that I was complaining. It is good to have a female fuss a little. And she rarely gets carried away with it.

So anyway .. I think I am just a little closer to defining .. Beauty. Friendship .. one facet of the prism that I am in a quest to possess. A piece of the whole. A touch of .. Beauty.

What Do You Want .. II

If you want an example of how to go from vague to specifically direct in one moment .. that was it ... right there.

If you want an example of how to sneak up on a man and suddenly reach your fingers through his ribs and sink your feminine nails into his heart .. that was it ... right there.

ow

So I took a deep breath and slowly scratched my jaw .. and replied ... "T'zuri? What about her?"

She said that she was rather sure that I had not been saying much about T'zuri because everyone seemed to be skipping over the subject. Well yes .. most were. She said T'zuri had been her friend and she missed her. I nodded .. told her so did I.

She said she knew I must be mad at how she had disappeared .. with not knowing the whys and hows and wheretos. That not knowing these can be overwhelming.

Mad? I told her no .. I was not mad. That sometimes I feel sad because I missed her. Had I not disappeared on her? Without word or reason offered? How could I be such a hypocrite? If this thing had taught me anything it was that the Sky gives and takes away.

She told me that anger was normal. That perhaps we were both wrong in how it came to pass but .. that it was still okay to be angry.

huh

Wrong? I could see nothing either one of us had done wrong. And I told her .. despite whether anger in the situation was wrong or right ... I still did not feel any. It just did not exist. Which .. was strange for me but something I would inspect later.

She said that was okay too.. that every person we come to care for leaves an empty spot when they leave.

I told her .. I filled the emptiness with memories of her .. that for now it was enough. Memories and the occasional slut .. but no I did not say that part.

huh

No anger .. and restraint ... I was on a roll.

She told me that memories were good .. but not to allow them to cloud what waited for me. I was confused .. I asked her what she meant? She said I should not use the memories as a crutch to keep me from life and living and from those that love me.

Why would I do that?

She said that memories could be a security .. safe. That they could not hurt me unless I let them. That I might use my memories to keep others away .. to avoid the chance of being hurt again.

huh

T'zuri did not hurt me. T'zuri made me a better man. I could not see her memory .. what she was to me ... with me ... as ever keeping me from living life .. in fact I saw them as giving me a better grip on doing just that.

That is when things got really confusing.

She told me what she was trying to say was not exactly literal in words. She said for example .. when Jerus died she was better .. and lived but she also kept herself away from certain parts of life. So I asked if she meant .. kept her away from men .. from moving on with another relationship. She nodded and said though it was not because she was afraid .. more being selective in her picking of what she allowed in.

I told her being selective did not sound like a bad thing to me .. sounded damned healthy in fact. She said not necessarily so .. what if she was not allowing the right one close enough to learn of her .. for her to learn of them?

I said that .. yes ... choices have a chance of being wrong.

She told me that her papa had told her .. that finding a mate for him was like crossing a great expanse and that each stone he stood on along the way taught him a little more .. brought him a little closer to his goal. I said I could see how his words made some sense.

She said her papa had told her to go for what she wanted. She said sometimes she was too afraid to do that .. and it was often because it would be brazen. I told her I had never really seen that fear in her. I have seen Silken do some things I would have beaten her to a bloody pulp for.

She said .. that she was afraid of being brazen right then ... I told her in this case it was a very healthy fear. That she did not know me well enough yet to define what she wanted from me. She disagreed .. so I asked Silken ... what do you want from me?

Why is it that nearly every time I ask a woman that they think it is a bad thing to want anything from me? Instantly she got defensive and wondered why I thought she wanted anything from me at all. Why is it that women can not just realize that it is not an attack when I ask that question? When is a woman just going to strait up answer me and let me know what in the hell they want from me. Fonce .. the man. Not the warrior .. not the commander ... me. And if she does not want anything? Well then move right along because just like every other human being I have ever met .. I want to be of value. I want to be of use. You have to make me feel as if I can do something .. something I can achieve that makes me a better person .. an accomplishment. My identity is tied to me making a difference. Not to mention I like to define relationships. Put people in places where I can identify them and relate to them as appropriate.

I finally got out of her that what she wanted from me was simply the chance to get to know me. Well that was easy enough. I told her it was not that hard to get to know me if she were serious enough to try.

Why do women have to be so complicated?

I returned to the herds with the entire conversation taking a backseat to the natural consequence of talking out loud about T'zuri ... her memory alive and breathing and strolling through the grasses of my thoughts.

What Do You Want .. From Me

The morning found me wandering along the side of the stream. My boots and even my calves and shins dark with dew. It was cold .. but not frozen. My thoughts a long way off along the horizon somewhere. Sometimes I believe my life would be much easier if I did not think so much.

I probably would have tripped over Silken if she had not lit a fire near while she was fishing. I have not seen much of Silken in the last few days .. have not seen much of the First Fires. People seem to be busy .. myself not the least of these.

I asked her how she was doing .. she said she was doing well. I told her that was good to hear for I had been concerned about her for a bit. She said I had given her reason to push through the darkness.

huh

I had? Helping someone through the darkness did not seem like something I would be good at .. unless it was just a guide because I lived there? I told her I was not sure how I had done such but if I had I was very pleased I had been able to do that for another person. She said I had taken the time to talk to her .. showing that I cared. That it made me important to her in return. I thanked her for her words. She waved her hand in the air and told me it was nothing .. that she wanted to be able to do the same for me since I seemed like I had a lot on my mind. She told me .. I could talk to her.

If she only knew.

But I did appreciate that she offered her time and energy to me. It was a thoughtful gift. I just have no way to accept it. When it comes to taking the things out of my head and putting them into words .. I do not do so well. Sometimes what comes out has nothing to do with what is actually torturing my synapses. There have been times it leaks out .. but usually not at the same time someone offers to listen to it. At this point in my life I am rather comfortable where I live and when the loneliness gets to me it is usually because I just want someone to understand where I am .. not so much that I want someone to fix it.

I told her it is not rare for me to have a lot on my mind. She told me thinking was not a bad thing but that the things get muddled and compressed if they are not expressed. I had to chuckle .. do they? She tugged me along into a stroll along the bank. She bid me talk to her .. I asked her about what? She said anything and everything .. things that were wrong .. things I enjoyed.

I told her it was not easy. She told me I could trust her. I replied that her words did not tell me how .. merely told me that I might do so. She told me that trust did not come from words. Well that I agreed with. She then told me that trust came from my heart. Inside.. that I should close my eyes and listen .. did I feel she would betray me?

huh

I told her I rarely trust my feelings .. emotions lie. I told her she could not speak to me as if I were a woman. Men think much differently .. and I thought even differently than a lot of men and that made the odds even worse.

She told me emotions do not lie .. that people do.

I told her we would have to agree to disagree on that one.

She told me she could listen .. give me her thoughts. I told her I knew that .. but it did not make it easier for me. There are times I just do not know how to.

She replied .. "All right ... would you like to talk about T'zuri?"

fuck

A Different Kind of .. Comfort

Her name is sumki. A slave girl. One I have known of but never spent much time with. I know the man she is in love with. I have seen her beg him with her body .. her eyes ... her words. He does not see her .. or chooses not to ... I do not know which.

She has never sought me out .. tonight I chose to find my solace in her.

She had come to the fire begging to be raped .. he took another ... his favored.

Tonight I called her to me for the first time. There was a meeting of understanding in our eyes. We both knew it was not each other we wanted to be with. We both knew it was not a coupling of knowledge or love. It was sex .. for the sake of sex. Fucking for the sake of blood .. sweat ... exchange of body fluids and exhaustion.

And that was all right.

We both challenged and pushed each other to our limits. Daring the other to give up first. Wagering with our bodies on which one of us could withstand the physical impact over time. Sadism meeting masochism in a fevered .. frenzied and macabre dance. Her appetite seemed endless .. meeting my directives each time without hesitation as if she thought of them first and merely waited for me to catch up. I know this is not true .. but she made it feel seamless and practiced ... the perfect accompaniment to a few of my more base desires.

What made me seek the exact opposite of what I wanted so badly? Some kind of denial? Shaking up my expectations so I was not disappointed? Falling into myself so hard I inverted on the other side?

I do not know .. I do not have the introspective answers butchered and flayed out in their respective pieces for examination.

I do know there is a certain comfort in time spent with someone that seeks only a brief respite from unrequited feelings. The moments of setting aside emotion and letting the physical become priority. When the release of adrenaline and endorphins bring two people together without a lot of relationship mist to get in the way.

It is not perhaps the best comfort that exists in life .. it is rather a different sort of comfort.

A Time .. Before

Today I am lonely.

I am surrounded by Tuchuk .. my people. Even friends and those who care about me personally.

But today I am lonely for someone who knows me. Understands me. That is a much more difficult proposition.

Those who I would say .. got close to me ... who got close to knowing me as a man ... are gone or their circumstances have changed and they have moved on. Today I wish for just one whose eyes tell me .. they recognize me.

Today I do not wish to explain myself. I do not want to feel disappointment when someone shows how painfully wrong they are about me. I want someone to believe in me .. not because they have faith ... but because they have experience.

Today I have no patience with faith. Faith has done nothing for me. I will pick it up and carry it around tomorrow when .. again ... I no longer care that I do so alone.

Today I feel as if I am a mere reflection cast from some other time .. a time before. I am out of place. I do not belong here. Not right now. I belong here before .. a time before ... where my true image is stuck. Mired in some kind of dimensional shift .. unable to advance.

I am not making any sense. I know what I mean .. but I also know that when I try to explain it there are no words to fit the way I feel. The language fails me. The expressions do not exist .. or I am ignorant of them.

Perhaps it is just this huge chunk of time I am missing. That I am unable to fill in with anything tangible. Perhaps it is to blame for this reflective feeling I am suffering right now. This inability to see myself .. feel myself .. correctly in this time and space. Desperate for someone to touch me .. make me feel real. I would give anything for that right now .. today.

I want someone to know why I am angry. I want someone to realize my frustration. I want someone to know why I am lost within my thoughts fighting for a sign from those around me that I am something more than shifting mist. That I am someone. That I will leave a mark behind me .. that I will be remembered for who I am and not just what I have done.

There is only one way I know how to deal with these thoughts .. to work ... to fight .... to sweat until I can barely move or breathe with exhaustion. Until my muscles scream and tighten into knots like rocks. To throw myself into the daily survival of a Tuchuk until I am too tired to feel any more.

I suppose if there really is no answer to it all .. I will at least be remembered for being a hard working man .. even if no one ever knows what sometimes drives me so hard.

Colors of a Slave

My slave.

huh

Been awhile since I have said that about any female. Yet I allow this one the freedom of sleeping with me. From the beginning. I am not sure why.

I have spent less time with her awake .. I wonder if it is a natural whiplash reaction to having her close to me while I sleep. A vulnerable time for me. Sometimes I wish it was easier to allow people to get close. Other times I do everything in my power to keep them at a safe distance. Loneliness has questioned my independence. A new one on me.

She made a quilt. Perhaps that is what she was working on the other night that she hid from me. I have not spoken of it. I do not know what to say. That it is used .. says a lot. But I do not know if she is astute enough to realize that. Perhaps I test her.

I watch .. more than she knows. I know .. more than she imagines. I have seen the way the plains .. the life ... the Tuchuk have begun their magic on her. Opening up her mind as well as her eyes. Instead of shrinking and hiding from it .. she has begun to stretch. She does not seem to need the cage to live .. like a dweller remaining incased in a cocoon afraid of the vast emptiness on the outside. She is looking up .. and out. That pleases me. She might survive here.

That is worth more to me than the gifts she crafts. In her attempts to impress me she is a good and capable slave. The quality of a person .. the value to me ... is much more about the ability and the drive to survive. To take what life shows you and attempt to see it for what it is and then step on it ... make it your own by applying your understanding to it ... as you move on to the next plateau.

As of yet .. she has not allowed herself to become lost in her own head in an attempt to deal with this new lot in life that Destiny has thrown her way. She has separated her own need to be impacted .. her own need to feel the trauma with an even more real need to function. She has thrown herself into survival and allowed the other to simmer on the side. Because she has done that .. because I have not had to deal with her injured mind ... because she has had food and warmth and a fire waiting for me every night without the lash inspiring her ... I will help her with the trauma when it is time.

For now .. it is my pleasure to watch this big wide world impact her and to see how she responds to it.

There is a .. Wall There

It started out as a simple conversation. It quickly turned into a spar of words.

I came in to the fires for a cup of blackwine and to warm my hands. Finding Tarra there as well was a side benefit of circumstance I decided not to let slip away considering that I had half a mind to speak to her about the other night at the fires. The other half of my mind told me to think again about doing that .. but when she was there and I was there I ignored that half. Much to my detriment .. or hers ... could go either way at this point.

She said something to me that sparked my more intent focus ... she questioned herself. Her own viability for being a woman. I asked her to be honest with me .. that if she actually believed that there was no point in continuing the conversation. If she was just being passive aggressive and denouncing herself out of frustration and anger ... then there was a point to the conversation .. there was a chance for me to get through that layer and go deeper where she really did remember she believed in herself and her abilities. But if she really did believe that as a woman she did not have as much to offer then .. I was done and there was nothing more to say.

She gave me nothing to go on .. an answer that could go either way. So I pushed her .. I wanted to know. I wanted to know if it was possible to let her know she was indeed a viable Spex .. whether female or not. So I asked a her a "what if" question ... hypothetical. I wanted to show her that belief in herself was the most important .. key ingredient. Something I have heard her tell others so I never thought she would not understand it. That was my mistake.

She answered my original question .. about whether or not she really believed in herself .... by getting instantly defensive with me and telling me I knew nothing about her. That I had no right to question her. That when I bore the things she did ... then I could question her viability.

At this point it was obvious to me that things had gone very wrong in the conversation. That Tarra would never allow me to question her as a concerned friend. That she would only see it as an attack instead of someone concerned about her as a person .. as a Haruspex ... as a viable member of the First Wagons. I apologized to her .. I told her it was not my intention to tell her she was not important .. quite the contrary in fact. I gave her my word I would no longer question her on any level .. I have no desire to hurt her like that.

Instead of hearing my apology she took it as another attack. I could not connect with her at all .. everything I said was being taken wrong and making her more and more frustrated and angry. She even apologized to me for having human emotions .. which is ridiculous. It proved to me she has no idea who I am as a man .. let alone have a clue how much I respect her as another human being.

It was way passed time to call the conversation to an end. To walk away. Not because I am afraid to talk .. but because I have no desire for everything that comes out of my mouth to be taken wrong. To watch it confuse and hurt someone. Especially when the entire thing had been motivated out of concern for her. I just could not seem to get through the wall between us.

She left me a parting shot on the way and it did the job. Hit home and I finally felt that breath against the sleeping coals of my temper. Her accusations were wild and untrue and I finally got irritated.

It is not the first time I have met that wall with Tarra. And I am sure it will not be the last since I never do see it coming until it is much too late. But I did give her my word I would not question her in any way again ... and I meant that. As to whether or not Tarra and I will ever be friends .. I do not know. But even if we are not .. I will still respect her as a Haruspex .. as a member of the First Wagons.

The Answer Cometh

The desert opened before me. The desert at night. The stars brighter than they should be .. the moons closer than possible. The sand shifted beneath my boots and I saw the dark haired boy sitting upon a dune playing with a toy wagon. He did not acknowledge me until I drew closer and then he glanced up and spoke.

"Why do you seek her?"

"I have been asked for an omen."

"It has nothing to do with you."

"The omens I seek rarely do."

The boy crouched over his toy and I saw a spark ... then the wood of the wagon caught and started to burn. The boy gestured me over and I sat there before the burning toy as I had before the small fire in the Spex wagon.

She rose from the fire .. lifting up to her full height. She glittered in her greens and blues and the ost curved and twisted through her hair. A shimmering hand reached to caress the boy's cheek before she turned to me and queried .. "You are not who I was expecting .. what do you seek of me Fonce of the Tuchuk?"

I replied .. "I am to seek an omen for the moving of the herds."

"Follow the grass."

"The Ubar wishes to see further."

"The Ubar is wise but he can not avoid what is to come."

"Are there words to give him?"

"There is only a song when it is done."

"Is there nothing I can give to him now?"

"You may give him this." And she reached up and pulled the ost from her hair and threw it at me .. I caught it just behind the head .. wrapping my fist around it as it coiled and squeezed my arm in its embrace. I struggled with the thing as it tried to reach me with poisoned fangs. I heard her gentle laughter as the desert faded and I felt the polished wood of the Spex wagon beneath me .. but the ost did not fade.

I fell backwards with the force of returning .. rolling over I thrust the ost against the boards slamming it into the wood. It twisted and turned .. shape shifting within my fingers.. taking on the vague shape of a woman .. something about her familiar .. her eyes wide as I crushed her throat. Then returning to the reptilian form before its life force faded and died within my hands.

Shaken .. I rested back against a trunk wiping the sweat from my eyes as I struggled to regain my breath.

The meaning of it all too real but there was very little I could do about it. It was not mine to change or even comment on.

When I had control of my breath I left the Spex wagon seeking Ba'atar. But he was not to be found. I left word with one of his close Commanders that he was to follow the grass .. in the direction he had offered to me. That .. what was to happen could not be avoided. That the events had been sung in the Sky all ready and soon would be sung here as choices followed the path to their natural consequences.

Preparation for an Answer

During my time as Ubar I had set much of my Haruspex duties to the side. Wanting to be the commander instead of the Spex. I had allowed many others to use the craft to tell the omens and read the runes.

My abilities had been used for the Dream War.

I was a little surprised when Ba'atar asked me to give him an omen for the moving of the herds.

Now this is nothing new .. the bosk eat the grass in a few days .. then we move. Always we move ... there is never a time we do not move forward looking for grass .. following the grass. That is why our homes are on wheels. If we stayed in any one exact place more than a couple of hands the bosk would eat the grass to nothing and the land would be over grazed and turn to dust.

With the Ubars of the Plains are entrusted the care of the land. A careless Ubar can destroy millions of pasang of good grass. But the Sky has given wisdom to our Ubars .. sometimes through the Haruspex ... so this disaster does not happen.

Ba'atar said something about following the grass to me .. I am not sure what that meant for that is like saying .. we grease the axles. Not something you talk about save in greetings .. it is just something you do. But since he mentioned it I must figure it has significance .. it must be important in some way I can not see on the surface.

What surprised me was that he asked me instead of Tarra. From what I have learned since my return she has done most of the readings for him. Even being considered for the head of the Clan itself. But this night she was not asked .. and her words were ignored at the Main Fires. I did not understand this .. not that it is mine to understand. Nothing regarding this has been given to me to understand. Nothing regarding the Kassar nor Tarra's recent illness. Whether any of that has to do with the current events at the Fires is also a mystery to me. There is always a reason for everything .. but in this case I am left to wonder at it.

However .. I digress.

I found myself pondering how best to proceed. I had a whole new way of going about things now. Well .. not completely new .. just a little different. A few added steps .. if you will. Though the beginning was easy enough .. the scraps were gathered ... the details for the specific One I wished. My fingers were clumsy with the needle .. but the doll was a relatively good likeness.

My Spex wagon was as good as any .. how long had it been? My memory strands were connecting strongly with the Orisha. It made the skin along my spine crawl. The fire was lit .. the doll set within the flames ... a long pull on the paga bota and the alcohol spewed over the doll. I sat back and watched the flames roar to life wrapping hungry little tendrils around the piece and it writhed and curled with life ..

or perhaps it was merely the intense heat upon the materials.

It really is all in the eye of the Dreamer.

A Sense of .. Accomplishment?

I found myself in the desert far past that place of in-between. I found myself upon the blood red kaiila .. lance in hand. The great shifting sands always moving beneath the massive paws of the beast. The wind biting at my cheeks and eyes. I pulled my wind scarf up to protect my mouth from the sand but it did little good .. I could feel it in my teeth. Soon my face and my hair .. my hands and clothes were gray with dust .. raw from the sharp bits blown so constantly against me.

From the sea of sand came forth monsters .. great beasts the like I had never seen before. They came with blood on their fangs and hunger in their eyes. They came for me. I fought them until I was so tired .. so sore and bloody. I fought them but they would not die .. would not cease to be. Every wound from the lance or kaiila instantly healed .. their flesh reformed. I fought them until the blood red kaiila ran with sweat .. his great lungs gasping for air between my knees. I fought them until I could not fight them any more. And I waited for the great beasts to devour me.

I saw then a small boy. With black hair and black eyes. He wore a very serious expression as if .. it was his only expression. He was much too serious for his age. Where were the songs .. the cries of mock battle with his comrades ... the color of first experiences? But his eyes were old and tired for the things that he had all ready seen .. seen too early ... too soon.

The boy held up his hand and bid the wind to be still and the sand to stop moving. He bid the great monstrous beasts to be quiet and leave .. and they obeyed. I marveled at his power but a part of me expected it I think .. that he could do this. I was not sure how I suspected that. I asked the boy .. "Why am I here .. in the desert. Why am I always here now?"

He replied to me in a soft subdued voice tinged with youth and flavored by ageless wisdom .. "I am the connection to all now. You must come through me to speak to the others. I know the creator. I watched it all as it was formed from the beginning."

I was confused ..the beast and I still breathing deep ragged breaths. "The creator? You watched as the creator formed what? The desert? Something more? This is not how I was taught to walk."

"What you were taught is no longer viable. I have been sent to you as a connection to the others. This is where you must begin every journey .. every quest. You must understand this place before you can leave it behind."

I wiped at the sweat as it stung my eyes. "Why? What have I done? Have I not shouldered every punishment for every wrong I have committed here? Have I not done as I was bidden? Who has set this great land between for me to conquer?"

"You did.. of course."

"But .. but wait ..." It was too late .. the desert faded .. the sand eased away from me. The boy was the last to go but he did not answer my questions for I was tossing in my furs .. struggling to free myself from them .. from pink's small embrace .. gasping for cool air.

What did he mean .. I did?

Freedom of Choice

I was making my way towards my wagons when I saw Yamka leaving down the steps. Now .. I double checked to make sure it was my wagon ... just because well .. seemed like a good idea.

It was. I waited for her to explain and she gave me a gift of a brightly colored silk butterfly sewn onto leather. She said she had thought about the things she had said to me. Specifically how it did not matter if she liked her mate. She said she had changed her mind. That it did matter. That she would attempt to make her mate happy no matter what .. but she would rather be with someone she actually cared for .. actually cared for her.

Well this was all new thinking for Yamka .. I found it interesting she had come to these conclusions. I wondered what all had impacted her .. to work on her thoughts and make her change her mind.

Yamka .. though she is not that young ... is very innocent. She shocks me sometimes with her naivety. It is not that I find it unattractive .. or wrong in any way. But sometimes it can be rather daunting when faced with child like understanding.

She said the butterfly was to her a symbol of freedom. That a butterfly that is caught and loses its freedom does not live very long afterwards.

She asked me my opinion .. well she asked me a question and I made sure she actually wished my opinion. So many people ask me questions they really do not wish the answer for .. but Yamka said she really wished to know my opinion so I told her.

I told her I had no desire to mate a woman I did not know .. had less of a desire to take as my mate a woman I did not like. I am too selfish a man .. too egotistical ... too arrogant. I wish to be understood.

But I told her that was not the opinion of everyone. That many men had no such desire and existed quite well without it.

She said she had seen I was different. I asked her if she meant because I wished to be understood? She answered me .. that I had a soul. I told her I did not know what she meant by that .. but I wished to know.

She said to me "You hurt.. I think somewhere someone has hurt you a great deal and so now you care.. Your soul is ancient and deep.. Only from what I have observed from you..So nothing you give is given carelessly.. its thought out.. and measured.. and then given."

huh

I was surprised. Impressed even. That was a lot to say about someone you have only seen a couple of times around the main fires. I was suspicious .. but there did not seem to be any negative purpose or intent. I thanked her for her words and for the butterfly .. for what it symbolized to her. It was a thoughtful gift.

She said she had noticed that whenever a woman talked to me other women's tongues wagged. I had to snort. That usually happened to any single warrior at the fires and would continue to do so as long as there was nothing more interesting to gossip about. I told her as she grew in experience and knowledge the things she liked .. looked for would grow and expand as well. She said she knew what she wanted ... I had to ask ... all ready?

Damn .. I still was figuring that out and I had one hell of a lot more experience than she did.

She told me what she her ideas were .. and they were simple but well thought out. I had much more specific ideas .. very specific. But they were forged over time and experience. Refined and detailed by heartache.

And I had never even gotten the whole mating thing off the ground yet.