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Realms: These Shattered Stars Logs

Interlude XII

It is the next day. Freyja's sleep was restful, but her dreams were odd -- fleeting, hard to remember (unusual enough for those sensitive to the Force) yet at the same time having some very vivid moments...

Kourakani is in her hands, and she stands with a village at her back that burns hot enough to sear stone. The yellow-hued fields before her are clear, even though her smoke-stung eyes. There is a subtle sound, and she tenses -- and then a huge, black-winged shape, five stories tall, erupts out of the field before her and up into the sky, its mass blotting out the sun before it swoops down. She moves, Kourakani cutting an arc of light through the air-

-and that is what she remembers most upon awakening.

The sun casts a somewhat desultory light across Murno Down outside the windows, the clouds just high enough so that the first rays of dawn sneak in under them. Not long after, though, the sun rises high enough that the cloud layer again cloaks it. Freyja is troubled by the dream -- what natural thing is that huge?! She finds Master Roakkana and relates the dream to him.

Roakkana is just getting awake himself, though he seems somewhat cheerful and bright-eyed-and-bushy... er, -pelted. He listens to Freyja's recounting curiously, then finally shakes his head. "I have never heard of such a beast, child, though I am certain if a Jedi was facing it down, it would be of the dark side. It is possible it is a memory from the Caamasi who once wielded Kourakani, and who placed her memnii into it."

Freyja nods slowly, "That was my assumption also, Master, if the dream wasn't instead an allegory I should be meditating on." She thinks a moment, then adds thoughtfully, "I think, if we do end up meeting with Sith in our efforts to broker peace... what we'll need most is the ability to somehow block the nauseating effects of Sithstain, and the ability to spread peace and calm the same way they spread the stain. Perhaps that's what I should meditate on with Kourakani."

She adds again, after a moment, "I think, unless you have need of me, that I'm going to go do some working out exercises in the monastery, Master... and maybe head into the city for a while too, to look around a bit. Is that all right with you?"

"Well, Sithstain comes from the outlook on the world about them that a follower of the Sith tradition has. But it is certainly worth thinking upon. Of course, child, please feel free. Later on we'll see about finding Jedi Kuuna. She is actually not currently in the monastery itself, but is with a field group who is meditating atop a mountain on the other side of the continent. They are expected back tomorrow."

Freyja brightens, "Oh, good! I'm glad to hear she's getting out and about -- that's wonderful to hear!" She grins, giving the currently fluffy-furred Wookie a cheerful hug, "All right then, I'll be back later! Want me to bring you anything from town?"

The Wookie chuckles, then considers. "Yes, please. Ghassian tea, if there are any herbalists selling it. It is from Kashyyk, so I imagine someone will have it; the monastery does not."

Freyja nods happily, "I'll get some then, certainly!" She wonders internally if it would be acceptable to bounce over to the small city of Banin's Landing, to check out the tap café -- she does have a whole day to play with, after all. She'll check the local net and see if it's feasible.

It looks quite feasible indeed, actually. When she checks to see if she can find the requested tea there she finds a couple of places which have it -- a few apothecaries, a few places that would best be kindly referred to as Republic-style "New Age Crystal Emporiums," and a few spice-and-herb specialist importers. She'll cheerfully inform both Master Roakkana and Vakkal of her plans, then head on out.

Freyja takes the vac-tube transit to Banin's Landing with Vakkal. When they disembark, her usual ebullient mood has resurfaced, and she's singing happily as she almost dances down the street next to Vakkal,

"In Munro Down I met a lad;
Mark well what I do say!
In Munro Downs I met a lad...
"
She grins, her sideways glance at Vakkal mischievous as she continues cheerfully,
"-and he used well all that he had;
I'll go neh more a-ro-o-ving with you, fair lad!
A-roving, a-roving, since roving's been my ru-I-in,
I'll go neh more a-ro-oving with you, fair lad!
"

Vakkal looks only a bit oddly at Freyja as she sings, but more than a few passers-by do a double-take at the very attractive Jedi who's singing as she goes down the street. Freyja laughs in spite of herself -- it's far too nice a day, clouds and all, to not be in a good mood! She stops at one of the spice specialist importers to see if they carry the tea, wandering in with a fascinated look and sniffing appreciatively -- smells nice!

    Freyja glows in the light of sun or moon; a willowy, long legged, golden skinned woman with an unruly mane of fiery gold hair; frost-blue eyes alight with serene happiness; and the strong, supple musculature of an athlete. An iridescent-blue band gleams at the end of her very long, thin Padawan's braid, swaying in constant motion. She moves as lithely as a dancer, pragmatic in well-fitting breeches and a laden utility belt, well-cared-for leather boots, a cropped athlete's top, and sturdy armored gloves.

The Toydarian proprietor is humming to herself as she flits about near the rafters, her wings blurred at a seemingly impossible, hummingbird-like speed for their size. She is tending to some of the greenery there -- Freyja realizes shortly after she enters that the foliage covering the ceiling and most of the walls is actually alive -- some kind of ivy that grows right into the wood panels. "Be wi' ye inna mooment!" the Toydarian says in mild brogue. The accent sounds like she learned to speak Aurabesh from a North-Balmorran Human.

Freyja smiles, listening with appreciation to the brogue... it brings back mostly pleasant memories. She knows the North-Balmorran Humans are the ones like Piper and her grandmother's family, who have names like MacRonian and MacNeil, and one of whose ancestors owned the ring Fafnir, Freyja's betrothed, was so excited to have found. "Certes, Kuras." The Balmorran term slips out quite naturally as she reminisces.

Freyja lightly trails her fingers along one leafy, twining branch, enjoying the little emporium's rather peaceful and pleasantly scented 'feel.' She casually traces a mental finger through the Force, wondering if there's a pet tucked sleepily away somewhere too... it seems somehow right, she thinks, that the shop lady would have a plump, contented catta, or something similar.

Freyja senses more than just one pet -- there seems to be a whole herd of a variety of beasts. As she touches one branch, she sees what looks like a furred iguana curled up on a shelf behind that particular tuft of leaves, sleeping contentedly. As she moves deeper into the store, what might be a catta skitters across the floor -- 'might be' only because it had six legs and looked somewhat feline. And in a corner, hanging by its tail from a rather stout beam, is what appears to be a sleeping dakang of approximately twice the size of little Jiaohua -- no, on second glance, it isn't sleeping; it is watching Freyja with one eye open -- apparently a watch-dakang.

Freyja blinks, looking around and laughing with soft delight -- she loves having pets around, and this lucky lady has a plethora of them! She sighs and smiles with quiet rue, realizing how much she misses that... then drifts peacefully over to offer her hand for the watch-dakang to sniff, so when it's reassured by her she can gently skritch its ears.

The Toydarian says, "There we are!" and drifts down from the ceiling to in front of the counter. She is typical for her people; about a meter tall with a highly expressive and vaguely pachyderm-like face, a pair of tusks beside her snout, with attractively swirling dark blue eyes, dark cyan skin and a pleasant, dusty scent. "An' what may I be helpin' ye wit' t'day, Kuras?" It's not quite a mental disjunction to hear Balmorran brogue coming from her.

The dakang rouses itself as Freyja approaches. It twists its head around with seeming aplomb, unconcerned that it now looks like its head is on upside-down. "Moof?" it goes, and liberally sniffs Freyja's hand with a cold wet nose. "Moof," it goes again, only the tip of its tail twitching a little, apparently approving.

Freyja looks up and grins at the Toydarian from where she stands next to the dakang, "Heiyo, Kuras shop lady! I envy you your little family of pets here. Ah, let's see... do you have any Ghassian tea from Kashyyk, please?"

The Toydarian smiles as Freyja introduces herself to the dakang. "Thankee, Kuras. I like tae t'ink thot they're enjoy'n' it 'ere! Jinxiu seems tae be likin' you." The dakang moofs in response. "Ghassian tea, you say?" She arches a brow. "'Tis a rare enough t'ing, Kuras, but aye, I 'ave some. Ye realize 'tis nae th' most tasty t'ing tae be comin' out o' Kashyyk, aye?"

Freyja happily croons to the dakang, gently scritching its ears, then smiles at the proprietor, "Hai, I know... but it's not for me; it's for my Master. He's a Wookie, and I know he'd like some."

"Your -- oh, I'm seein' now! Yer Jedi Master's a wee venerable Wookie. Aye, I can be understandin' thot, then. But a moment, Kuras!" She flits over to a corner of the shop, poking through a shelf with a variety of oddly shaped containers that seem to be made mostly of wood sealed with amber. "I dinnae get much call f'r Wookie spices an' t'ings, but y'r in luck! I 'ad a trader deliver some tae me in th' past couple'a weeks..."

Freyja giggles quietly, still gently rubbing the contented dakang's inverted head, at the thought of Master Roakkana being considered 'wee.' She smiles, "Excellent! Thank you, Kuras. I know my Master will be pleased." She adds with curious interest, "May I ask where you learned Aurabesh, Kuras? I'm guessing Northern Balmorra?"

The Toydarian woman returns shortly and sets the two sealed wooden jars down. Freyja can recognize the Wookie claw-rune marks on the sides and caps, which describe it as gathered and packaged by 'Shokkon Medicinal Exporters of Kashyyk. Established 102 PR. Store in a cool dry place. Good for seven months after seal is broken.' "In th' original cases, too. Ye willnae find better in th' Landing! Now, if'n ye'll be preparin' it, it does th' most good when made wit' water thots hot but nae quite boilin', an' try tae nae mix it usin' ceramics. Wood's best f'r thot; Kashyyk wood's even bett'r, but polymer'll do well enough."

She blinks, then laughs at Freyja's query. "Aye, Kuras, 'twas born in Macronainsberg durin' th' reign o' Balder Odann Rigg, an' m'parents left nae long after. 'Tis a strong accent, isn't it?"

Freyja brightens at sight of the sealed jars. She reluctantly gives the dakang one last ear rub, then moves over to the counter. "Ah, this is perfect, thank you!" She runs one hand lightly over the sealed top, then smiles at the Toydarian, "Macronainsberg? One of my childhood friend's family comes from thereabouts. The Ridomr family... I don't suppose you know of them?" She grins a bit ruefully, "I know how unlikely it is... but I thought I'd ask."

The Toydarian smiles, tilting her head to the side. "Aye, ye're from Balmorra? Och, should've known; th' accent, 'tis subtle! Nae, I'm afraid I dinnae know them."

Freyja nods, smiling, "Hai, from the South. It's fine. I didn't think you would have, but... can't hurt to ask." She pushes memory of home aside firmly, and cheerfully asks, "So, how much for these, please?"

There's very little haggling; the Toydarian doesn't appear to want to haggle with a Jedi, just on general principles, and Freyja soon has her purchases in hand. She leaves the little shop with satisfaction at the two jars in her backpack -- Master Roakkana will be pleased! -and a bit of wistfulness compounded of equal parts nostalgia for parts of home, and the pleasure of getting to spend a bit of time, however slight, with friendly pets again. She curiously asks Vakkal as they walk, "So, do your people keep pets at all?"

Vakkal shakes his head. "Not many, no. On Khar Velos it is more of a matter of being adopted by an animal. We never sought domestication of animals, and by tradition we hunted just about anything, within limits. Over time, as we've learned more about the ecosystem of Khar Velos, we've cut back on hunting certain animals, but we still have not attempted domestication. The animals that do, erm, adopt us tend to be smaller, non-competing predators who are indirectly assisted -- we tend to hunt larger predators, and the smaller ones and the scavengers might begin to like 'hanging around' us if they know they can get some food."

Freyja nods interestedly as they head for the tap café Vermillion, "So, creatures like... what are they called again -- Sith hounds? Are they who adopt you, or is it more the animals that evolutionarily share a common ancestor with you; way, way back... that sort of predator, or smaller scavenger types?" She adds a little wistfully, "Must be nice to be adopted by some animal..."

Vakkal grins and shakes his head. "Maybe in the very distant past. The creatures closest to us tend to be among medium-sized predators. The ones who 'adopt' us tend to be smaller. And I do not think I am using the term 'adopt' in the same manner you are. A little scavenger may follow a hunter on his forays, chitter or squeal when a dangerous predator approaches, and drive off other small scavengers. The hunter will let the scavenger have some of the hunt's catch. Once in a while such an adopting scavenger will become bold enough to venture into the clan's bivouac and might be seen here and there for a time, though they usually tend to develop into little thieves. More than one person has been seen chasing a tattri out of their tent with a broom; some piece of victual or other shiny object firmly in the mouth of the little beast."

The Vermillion is a medium-sized tap café; not at all like the spaceport cantinas (of varying dubiousness and legitimacy) that would be found at Murno Down. It is more of a working-class "third place" or pub actually, with a bar and grill. Rather than being a single room, it is a number of rooms all linked together, with a few bar-rails, a couple of food-servers, and a staggering variety of furniture. Most of it seems to have been put together piecemeal over the decades. The crowd is somewhat more rough-and-tumble, but a friendly and mixed lot, and Freyja's dun-and-tan clothing seems barely out of place in a locale which lacks any sort of high-class or refined clothing at all. Though her appearance does attract attention -- there are a few Human and near-Human examples here, and each one seems to at some point do a double-take at the door as Freyja enters, though the conversation doesn't seem to die down.

Freyja giggles at the image of a broom-chased tattri, "Like Jiaohua, eh?" then looks around in interest as she enters the tap café. She wonders curiously why they're doing a double-take at her and looks down to make sure her clothing's all neatly in place... hm, looks like it. She wonders again what they were staring at, as she looks around for a free table.

"More or less. They tend to be thinner and lighter, much like Corellian ferrets. At least that's what Fhazil said when I related that tale to him." He looks around and nods in satisfaction. "Ah, yes. Just as I remember it..." There are a few free tables; most of the people seem to be congregating in bunches. Elsewhere, in one of the other rooms, there appears to be some sort of betting or sports-viewing going on, as a loud cheer is raised briefly.

Freyja heads for a table, tossing a grin over her shoulder at Vakkal's comment, "Well, good, then -- let's have lunch!" She doesn't recognize anyone there, and doesn't notice anyone doing a double-take at Vakkal, so would guess there won't be any past troubles to deal with -- she grins -- like his having sung/howled far too much here in the past!

Lunch is tasty, warm, and while plain -- 'spice' seems to be something applied wholesale rather than delicately -- very satisfying. It appears to be some kind of nerf meat pie, mixed in with a cross-section of vegetables from across the sector, which Vakkal recommends. The sports event seems one part Corellian rugby, one part acrobatics, and one part fencing, as two teams charge across a field at each other with force field-buffered sticks and attempt to throw or hit a ball -- at least, it looks like a ball -- through a ring-shaped target at either end. One of the commentators notes this particular game of frung is being sponsored by one of the Balmorran military droid manufacturers.

Freyja rolls her eyes in amusement, wondering why the Balmorran droid manufacturer would care... then pondering curiously as she chews her nerf meat pie. Is frung a chance to observe the humanoid form at combative play, for later droid design? Or is this more a chance to import droids circumspectly for later smuggling out? She sighs quietly, wishing she had more data... trying to hypothesize with inadequate information is a bit frustrating, and probably ultimately not worth the effort. Better to wait until there are enough pieces of the puzzle to put together.

Freyja sets the issue aside in her head, and continues to eat, looking around and watching folks with curiosity. At one point she'll lean over to murmur to Vakkal, "Hey, Vakkal... do you have any idea why most of the humanoids did a double-take at me when I came in? I mean, my clothes were all straight and tidy... was my hair mussed up funny or something?"

Vakkal pauses in his devouring of a hunk of bread, and actually blinks incredulously at Freyja for a moment. He sets the unbitten bread down slowly. "You... really wouldn't guess, I suppose," he says, then shakes his head. "I believe that it is because you would be considered extremely attractive in Human measures."

Freyja blinks, a bit taken aback at the incredulous look -- she's not sure whether she should thank Vakkal, or apologize! Uncertainly, she does both, "Er... I'm sorry? ...thank you?" She frowns at the bite of food she was about to have, then looks back at the big canid warily, "Um... you're not just teasing me, are you?" She tries to remember what the faces around her sister looked like... were they like the faces she'd just seen a short while ago, as she entered here?

Vakkal's ears cock either-which-way as he blinks. "I'm not teasing you, Freyja. You mean you really didn't realize that they were looking because you are attractive?"

Freyja hesitates, then says a little sheepishly, "Wellll... neh, not really... it's not something I think about myself. I'm sorry? I just... well, that sort of thing doesn't happen to me, you know? I get looked at because I've done something stupid or funny, not because I'm pretty. That's how Syffy gets looked at, not me." She feels suddenly terribly self-conscious, and hastily eats her bite of food. A moment later she swallows, cheeks still flushed, and mumbles, "You must think me terribly stupid for not realizing..."

Vakkal shakes his head. "Not really. It happens often enough in my people's stories. A girl or boy is a 'late bloomer,' so to speak and all of a sudden they are bewildered by the attention they're garnering." He grins a little. "Considering that none of the people here know you, let alone if you've done something stupid or funny, as you say..."

Freyja sighs softly, murmuring with quiet amusement, "Late bloomer... guess I really am an ugly duckling. Ah, well." She smiles at Vakkal, the flush starting to fade, "Well... if it's true, I guess I should either figure out fast how to handle it, or just ignore it." She toys with her food for a moment, then adds ruefully, "...except... every time I've tried using the techniques I've watched Syffy use, I get into trouble. There's some subtlety; some, um... nuancing or something, that I don't know how to do. It's like... like she has a slider bar, where I just have an on/off switch, you know?" She considers again, then says more quietly, "And... I'm not sure it would be appropriate for me, as a Padawan, to work on figuring out how to do it right, even if I wanted to... so..." she sighs quietly again, finishing a little dispiritedly, "...maybe I should just ignore it...?"

Vakkal shakes his head, "Why do anything? Just be aware of it. If you don't mind me saying, Syf has been trained to use her looks for the purposes of entertainment. Entertainment has its role in a society, but your role, your duties, your... destiny, as some might put it, is greater than that. You are an attractive young Human woman. As far as that goes, be just that. You are, of course, much, much more than 'just that.'"

Freyja looks at Vakkal a bit hopefully, "You think so?" She considers for a moment, then nods slowly, "All right... that seems reasonable." She returns to her meal with renewed appetite, quietly pleased at the unexpected (and somewhat startling) compliment she's been delivered by Vakkal. It's lovely to feel one is possibly attractive to a dear friend... and a relief, in a way, to decide she doesn't have to try to emulate her frighteningly energetic sister!

The meal is completed without any incident. The Vermillion, during the day, seems to be a comfortable and fairly quiet place, though some of the (relatively few) working-class persons of Banin's Landing seem to come here for midday meals. Freyja heads out with Vakkal some time later, pleased at having (in effect) successfully reconnoitered the meeting spot ahead of time. A significant chunk of time later the two are relaxing together after a brisk and thorough workout, soaking in the monastery's hot tub and steaming out the aches in their muscles.

Freyja is flopped out in luxurious repose against Vakkal, who is braced comfortably in a tub corner. She idly runs her fingers through some of his fur as they sit, admiring the way it swirls and shimmers under the water, and asks in lazy curiosity, "Hey, Vakkal... I was thinking. You said you had a lot of siblings, hai? But you're not that old, and you said your people lived to like 75 years or so. So, I was wondering how you could have that many siblings so soon. Do the females of your people have litters of pups? Is that how you got so many siblings?"

Vakkal nods, "Pretty much. My family is a little on the large side. Seven or eight in a litter is not uncommon, however. That is, seven or eight who survive. Infant mortality is slightly high in my people; one out of a litter is expected to be stillborn."

Freyja nods thoughtfully, her wet hair mussing up against his fur where her head rests against him, "Makes sense. All right, so aside from infant mortality, how do you keep from bein- er, from having too many individuals in your clan for the land to support? You said other clans live relatively nearby... is your planet particularly dangerous? You've not really indicated there were a lot of deaths... so I was wondering if only the alpha females had litters? I know there are some species where the whole pack works together to raise their young, but only the dominant pair bond actually have young. Is that what your people do too?"

Vakkal seems slightly uncomfortable. "Well. No, the 'alpha' females are not the only ones who bear young. There is a short period of time in which females are fertile in their lives -- as I said, my own mother was rather exceptional. It was also a time when our family was really relatively, in fact dangerously, small. Her having such a large litter was seen as a blessing by the tribe. The tribe as a whole, as you said, plays some role in the raising of all children, but at any time perhaps only two or three litters are being raised." He adds quietly, "I say 'dangerously' because every so often a Plague occurs and lays to waste... sometimes entire regions of my people. It is something that has been with us since the beginning. That is why I believe we have such large litters, after all."

"Oh." Freyja blinks, trying to imagine how that might be -- entire clans decimated by the Plague, lost forever! Softly she murmurs, "The poor people... don't they have any medics?" A moment later she adds with a touch of embarrassment, "Vakkal... if this is bothering you, we can talk about something else, if you prefer?"

Vakkal shakes his head. "We have tried, but even modern medical science takes time to come up with a cure for things such as this. The Plague is quick and lethal; difficult to spot until it is too late. With the help of the Sith we have narrowed down the vectors and are certain that it arises from the equatorial swamps, and so we attempt to avoid them. But just as with each Plague more and more survive it, each time it strikes, it begins further and further from the swamps. And it's all right; it is just a discomfiting fact of life on Khar Velos."

Freyja nods, turning to give a hopefully reassuring hug to her big canid friend, "It's all right... you're here, now," then settles back comfortably, one arm still curled about Vakkal as she murmurs thoughtfully, "So the Plague isn't zoogenic, and is constantly evolving... interesting." She considers, then adds curiously, "If all the females have a fertile cycle, there must be some period that everyone gets a chance to mate, hai? Or does only the dominant male do so? Neh, that can't be right... you mentioned couples staying together if they had cubs. Ah! That must be why it's not a given that mating couples will stay together -- the low conception rate, hai?"

Freyja hesitates, struck by an uncomfortable thought, but not knowing how to politely ask if her poor friend misses the chance to find mates. She hopes he's had a chance to mate already. From what she's heard it's quite nice... she wouldn't deny that particular joy to any sapient.

"Well, I understand that once only the clan leaders were allowed to mate, but it was learned that clans which did that ended up... twisted, or not able to hunt as well as others. In some of our legends lone hunters would find themselves in unmapped regions and come across a very strongly inbred clan. Usually it was a fell discovery. Since then, we diversify. When two members of different clans decide to mate, it is considered an auspicious occasion, since traditionally the scions of such a union tend to be stronger, smarter, and better hunters. But it is rare, since clans do not often spend a great deal of time near each other -- and there is, of course, the Plague. If only the dominants mated, then the clan would never be large enough to have any of its blood survive, even if it is only to find other survivors and form a new clan."

Freyja nods, obscurely reassured to hear that. She considers how to ask politely, then cautiously asks, "Have you had a chance to, er, take a paramour? Um... I don't know if it's polite to ask or neh, Vakkal, so if it's rude, just ignore that I said that, please?"

Vakkal blinks, then chuckles a little. "No, that's quite all right. As I said before, there is mating, and there is just coupling. I have not mated, no. But it is better that I have not. I had no children to tie me to Khar Velos when I decided to leave."

Freyja considers that, parsing out the sentence, then says tentatively, "So... mating begets young, and coupling is just sex for fun with people you like, then?"

Vakkal purses his lips, thinking, then nods. "Yes, at least if I am giving the proper Aurabesh words for those terms. As I have said, when two mate they stay together solely for each other, at least until the children become accomplished hunters."

Freyja sighs in faint relief, "All right, good." She leans her head back and smiles up at Vakkal, "I was just hoping you'd had a chance to couple already... it'd be a shame to never have a chance to, I'd think." She pauses, then adds curiously, "Er... I take it you didn't encounter many aliens on your planet, hai?"

Vakkal shakes his head cheerfully. "No, we didn't. The Sith Empire doesn't have a great deal of casual, 'tourist' travel, and Lord Ghang has been limiting casual visits to Khar Velos, at the clan leaders' request."

Freyja looks curious, "Really? Why do the clan leaders not like visitors?"

Vakkal says, "It's not that we do not want visitors. It's to discourage over-industrialization. We realized long ago that Khar Velos has a delicate ecosystem. It's taken thousands of years, even with the assistance of the Empire's scientists, to even come close to properly evaluating what we might or might not do to our world. As it is, in the Empire industry is, overall, decentralized; most worlds cannot fail to support themselves. There is no pressure to have us pillage Khar Velos for resources."

Freyja ponders curiously as she listens. Interesting that the worlds are so poorly integrated. That'd indicate little specialization... and thus, less advancement in the sciences. So... the cloaking device must've been the product of a powerful and determined patron, hai?

Still, in a way that's really secondary news for her -- she finds it more interesting that Vakkal's had a chance to... to couple, to use his words. She's both glad for him, and a bit wistfully curious, wondering what it was like. Pillow books just don't tell the whole story! She's pretty sure she wants to try sometime... but how does one choose a partner to couple with? She blinks at a sudden realization -- why not ask?! She straightens and turns slightly to excitedly say, "Hey, Vakkal! You've coupled -- so can you tell me how one picks a good paramour?"

He looks a little startled. "How one picks...? I'm not sure I can help, Freyja. It... it just sort of happens. And the standards for one of Khar Velos would not be the same as for a Human, I think." He considers for a moment. "I can really only say that the people I have coupled with have been my friends for at least a while, and it... just seemed to be mutual, and at some point it just seemed like the thing to do..."

"Huh." Freyja sighs, leaning back against Vakkal again, "But... how do you tell when it's the thing to do? How did you tell?"

Vakkal seems to fumble with his thoughts for a minute, then shakes his head. "It's... something that we just knew. Or one would ask the other if they wanted to couple. But even before that there'd be... cues. Hints. Subtleties. By-play of words. Word games that might tend towards that direction. But I would imagine that would be shorter than for Humans or other species, since we live for so short a time and there is the Plague hanging over us..."

Freyja sighs quietly, absently running her fingers through Vakkal's fur again as she shifts comfortably against him, non-consciously enjoying the gentle caress of fur against her skin in the warm water. Her tone is a bit disappointed, "Well, wolf-feathers. I was hoping you could give me some advice on how to tell." She adds thoughtfully, "I wonder if Humans would recognize the hints of your people... or vice versa?"

"I don't think so, Freyja. There are cultural amorphisms; differences in body language, even scent."

Freyja nods regretfully, "Ah, well... so even if you could tell me your cues, they wouldn't help me with Humans, then, hai?"

Vakkal shifts a little beneath her. "Uhm. Oh! No, I'm... afraid they wouldn't. At least, not with any Human I've ever met, nor near-Human species."

Freyja grins in spite of herself, "Wolf-feathers again. Would have been too easy that way, hai?" She chuckles, stretching lazily against Vakkal, looping her arms relaxedly behind her and about his broad shoulders, "Well... enough of me burbling at you -- if I keep this up I'll probably start accidentally asking taboo questions, and I don't want to be offensive. So... do you have any questions you'd like to ask me?" XXX

Vakkal shakes his head. "No, that would be too easy," he says with a chuckle. "Uhm... questions from me? I'm afraid I really don't, Freyja, except to ask why you are concerned? Why does this matter worry you?"

Freyja idly wonders if she can read Vakkal at all right now... she turns her face to lazily rub her cheek against his fur and laughs softly, "Goddess bless, don't you know, after my cluelessness today at the Vermillion?" Her tone is rueful, "If Kuras Taas is still interested in me, or if Zero's serious, then I better figure it out fast, hai?" She sighs, flopping her arms a bit disconsolately into her lap and causing a splash. "Pfooie." She wipes the water off her face, adding, "I wish I understood this better. I'm afraid of sex without love... all our romances warn against it. But... how in the Middlegard can you tell?!"

Vakkal shakes his head quietly. "I wish I could help you, Freyja," he says softly, gently hugging her. "I know that it's a... sometimes difficult issue with many species, not just Humans."

Freyja smiles, leaning her head back against Vakkal and wrapping her arms around his, "Oh... I know. I just... worry, I guess. I have... well, I don't know how people work where -- where the folks I care about come from, if that makes sense. I mean, where I come from it's simple -- the lower ranking person lets the higher ranking person know they're interested, and if that interest is returned then the higher ranking person lets the first one know -- and they become paramours! It's easy. But... apparently there are places where what's important isn't who'll be taking care of whom, but rather what gender you are! It's... very confusing."

Freyja says, "I mean... what does it matter whether you're male, female, neuter, or something else? It's more important the folks involved not feel pressured by someone stronger than them, and can express love how they want to, don't you think?" She hesitates, then says a bit embarrassedly, "Er... maybe I should have checked how it is for your people first...?"

Vakkal chuckles a little bit. "That's all right. I'm only surprised that rank has anything to do with it for you -- is that for all Humans, or just Balmorran Humans? While with my people there are some... added steps to the dance when one of the people involved is considered to be a clan family leader, for the most part... well, as I've said, it's not something easily explained."

Freyja curls up comfortably against Vakkal, her arms still wrapped around his wrapped around hers, and says hopefully, "Try, please?" She adds a second later, "Uh... well, my guess is just Balmorran Humans, considering how bewildering betrothal seemed to both Zero and Kuras Taas?" A moment later she dreamily murmurs, "Dance... that's a lovely way to think of it, I think..." She smiles quietly, relaxing and leaving her head leaning against Vakkal, "So how does one dance with a clan leader?"

Vakkal sighs a little. "I will try," he says. "Keep in mind that this is not the mating ritual, which is something else entirely. And 'dance' is only one metaphor for it." He considers, then says, "Well, let's see. With most people it is a matter of subtle signs at first -- not only glances but also body language and scent. Modes of speech, even. Modern and Archaic Aurabesh carry subtleties of speech very poorly. And communication by scent depends upon people being able to understand and respond appropriately to it."

"There could be many ways a clan leader might show interest in one who is not a clan leader, or vice versa, but it has to be done delicately; there are attempts to prove that there is no favoritism or attempt to glean undue favor. In some stories intermediaries are sometimes employed, though in our comedies the intermediaries were the ones who ended up coupling. In other stories, particularly brave or bright leaders would come right out and speak their interest, or perceive it themselves.

"Once both parties know there is an interest, they spend time together. Our lives are short enough that this is made as easy to do as possible. With few exceptional situations, the two will often be found together in one way or another, either hunting together or working within the bivouac together.

"If they find themselves compatible, then they may eventually become more than friends. If not, then they do not. I am afraid ours is a rather simple social structure, Freyja. Few persons will press the issue if they are rebuffed, since there is no loss of face or honor in being rejected to couple with someone. Those who find themselves consistently 'unlucky' sometimes take heart in some of the more unusual romances of my people, which have stories of hunters who range far to the boundaries of their clan's territory and encounter members of other clans there, who are very often so far out for similar reasons. Much more often, though, they simply bide their time." He shrugs a little. "We have been called emotionally simple people, Freyja. Certainly much more simple than most Human cultures.

Freyja hms, her eyes half-closed as she considers, relaxing against Vakkal's comfortably warm bulk. "Interesting. So... with your people it's not, ah... pressuring for a clan leader to just let someone know? There's no... no worry that they're saying hai simply because they feel they have to?" She adds a little puzzledly, "Why do you say 'emotionally simple' like... like it's a bad thing, Vakkal?"

"Not really. Though I suppose there is that worry sometimes. Though most clan leaders are older and have passed the point of seeking coupling; what with the Plague, more often than not younger persons become clan leaders. It is not so much a worry because the clan leader does the same work that the others do -- he or she hunts and works within the bivouac. They must also be concerned with the mandate. Anyone can be clan leader. If the clan leader does a poor job, if their judgment is called into question, they can be deposed. That does not happen often, however. The eldest clan leaders of Khar Velos take exception to too many deposings, and may appeal to Lord Ghang for mediation."

He shakes his head at her other query, "Oh, it is not a bad thing. It does mean, however, that when unusual things happen, unusual situations like one would find beyond Khar Velos, it is not always easy for us to deal with them appropriately."

Freyja nods slowly, considering thoughtfully, then asks, "What's the mandate?"

Vakkal says, "The mandate of the people who are lead by the clan leader."

Freyja says, "Er... are you saying the people choose their clan leaders and tell them how to rule?"

Vakkal says, "No, the clan leader position is inherited -- well, the line of successors is appointed. I suppose you could call them 'princes' or 'heir designates' or 'arvings.' Usually they are the clan leader's children, but it is only tradition that decrees that. And said children are usually trained as best as possible to be rulers and leaders and judges when they grow older."

Freyja says, "All right, I can understand that. Still... where does the mandate come into this, please?"

Vakkal says, "Freyja, every leader leads with the mandate of the people. The ability of a leader to give orders and have them followed is directly proportional to the willingness of the people to accept that leader's orders. This is true everywhere, even on Balmorra. If a clan leader began to act... irrationally, play favorites, insist that others hunt and do work while he or she remained idle in the bivouac, neglected to plan for that season's needs for his clan, then what kind of leader would they be? Why would the people of that clan wish such a one as leader?"

Freyja says, "Oh! I understand now. I thought by 'mandate' you meant some written document or something... and I thought everyone realized power comes from below." She pauses for a moment, then says gently, "What were you trained to be, Vakkal, if you do not mind my asking?"

Vakkal says, "Not everyone does. I would daresay some Republic and Imperial leaders do not fully realize it." He pauses, then smiles quietly. "You remembered, then, that my father was a clan leader. I was neither the oldest nor the youngest, but my father did have me trained to assist whomever would be clan leader. I was to be the clan hunt master, helping to decide where the clan should hunt for the following season, and to coordinate with other clans so that our hunting grounds did not overlap. There would rarely be conflict over that with other clans; Lord Ghang preferred to arbitrate such conflicts himself."

Freyja sighs quietly, then turns her head to again gently rub her cheek against Vakkal's damp fur. She doesn't know what to say... a part of her feels he was horribly abused and forced into exile unwilling, by his brother's foolishness, and that he certainly doesn't deserve being stuck out in this squabbling mess of a universe with cold, strange, new people everywhere, and no pack to speak of. Another guiltily selfish part is glad he's here... he and Zero both make her feel warm and stronger and cared-about. She finally settles on saying nothing... just turns carefully about in his arms to put her arms around him in turn, to hug him close and warm.

Vakkal gently holds Freyja, comfortable and warm -- if damp and therefore slightly aromatic. Freyja finally murmurs quietly against him, "Do you... ever miss it? Having a pack, I mean?" She sighs gustily, "I guess that's a stupid question. I'm sorry. I wish... I wish I knew how to make things better for you..."

"You mean, a clan? No... it's not a stupid question. I have no clan on Khar Velos. My new clan became Lord Ghang and my Brother... and you as well."

Freyja smiles a little shakily, hugging a bit tighter. "That... I -- thank you, Vakkal. I'm very proud you feel that way." She settles a bit more relaxedly against him after a moment, and adds with quiet mischief, "So... I wonder what the Sith lord Ghang would think of who that made him clan-members with!" She giggles softly, her eyes dancing, then curiously asks, "Do your people ever have multiple coupling partners? Like more than one paramour at a time? Hmm... actually it sounds like neh to that, right? -considering that would introduce emotional complications?"

He chuckles softly. "I'm not sure, Freyja. Though he is a patient man... he is still a Sith Lord." He tilts his head to the side. "Not really, no. At least, I have never heard of it happening in my clan. Sometimes in other clans one might hear of such a thing happening. So long as the clan's integrity is maintained, and there is no emotional disturbance arising from it, I don't see why it would be a problem."

Freyja nods thoughtfully, considering for a long moment as she absently runs her fingers through Vakkal's fur. It gets quiet... quiet enough that Vakkal's slightly heavier breathing and the occasional plink of a water droplet can be clearly heard. Freyja continues to think very hard, and shift a bit on occasion to glance surreptitiously at Vakkal, causing the water to ripple silently as she does so.

Vakkal's eyes are closed, as if he's resting comfortably, but when Freyja glances up, he asks, "What are you thinking, Freyja?"

Freyja starts slightly, a faintly guilty look on her face for a fraction of a second -- then looks hastily away. "I, ah... I, I, I w-was... uhm..." She hesitates, then takes a deep breath, squelching her immediate desire to ask for a promise not to be laughed at first. If he's going to laugh, she'd rather find out now, she thinks a bit defiantly -- and besides, he did say it was particularly brave or bright clan leaders that would have the courage to admit their feelings. If she's going to be brave, she might as well start now... she just wishes the butterflies in her stomach weren't quite so bad! In a bit of a rush she says firmly, "I -- I was thinking I like you very very much!" She stays tensely upright, utterly unsure as to how Vakkal will react, and not knowing what else to do at this moment.

Vakkal blinks, then smiles warmly. "And I like you, Freyja. You've been very good to me, you have been a good lord, and you have been a good friend through a great many things. Trust engenders trust, and you have shown me a remarkable amount of trust."

Freyja looks away hastily, her cheeks flaming -- her whole front is flushed, a part of her absently notices -- and takes a deep breath. She clenches her hands together in her lap, under the water, and hopes they're not shaking as she looks back, a bit more in control of herself now as she says gravely, "Thank you, Vakkal. I appreciate that. I... never wanted you to feel... stuck, or trapped, or anything."

She takes another deep breath, quietly reminding herself that having a dear friend who is not a lover... is better than no friends or lovers at all. Hai... that's important too. She shouldn't feel disappointed -- she should remember that. Quietly she adds, "You and Zero... the two of you make me feel... safer, stronger, wiser... like... like there's more to me than I know." She takes one more long, slightly shaky breath, then carefully leans back against Vakkal, still a bit tense but trying to relax again.

Vakkal blinks again, tilting his head to the side, a confused look upon his face. "I have never felt that way," he says, his tone odd and concerned. He gently puts his arms around her, lightly resting his muzzle upon her head. His tone deepens a little, to where it is almost felt as well as heard. "That is, never felt stuck or trapped here. I am grateful and glad for what you've done for me. Above and beyond that, I enjoy spending the time that I do with you."

Freyja blinks, listening both to his voice and to the deep, rumbling thrum of his speaking in his chest. Vakkal can feel the delicate surface muscle tension along her skin suddenly lessen as she takes in the meaning of his words... and then she takes a deep breath of relief as she relaxes, her expression lightening, and wraps her arms around him as well. She doesn't say anything... just holds him close in extremely happy relief. Vakkal *urfs* a little, then settles in comfortably into the cozy embrace.

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Last modified: 2002-Jul-16 16:14:54

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