I guess...

he truly means it. One of the first times we talked he asked what I would say if he kissed me. I told him I would tell him to not kiss me unless he truly meant it. I do not give my heart freely, it has never been given. Once I do give it, I won't be wanting it back. He smiled, he told me he would not kiss me unless he did mean it. I never expected then, that he would kiss me like this. It was wonderful, it was stunning, it was amazing. It was right, and it was going home. I am glad I kept my heart for one man. I am glad that there have been none before, and I pray that there will be none after. I know that this is a moment I will remember forever.

He Showed Me The Way..

back to my friend. I don't know if that was Fonce the Ubar, or Fonce the friend. Either way, I am glad that he gave us the chance to get caught up and to reconnect. I have been lonely, and I have been lost without her. I have felt like I was trapped in a world that had gone dark. It was starting to get bright again, but now the light is so much more with her back in it. He is a good man, our Ubar. He is a good friend. He is a person who will do his all for any one of us, and yet he asks nothing in return. He might not ask it, but I will show him how grateful I am. How? By not being one of the ones that forgets that this man is a man with real feelings, real thoughts, real hurts, real dreams, and real desires. I will always remember that Fonce the Ubar is also Fonce the man. More than my Ubar, more than my Guardian - he is, my friend.

My hands are not

smaller than butterfly hands. He says they are. He says I have fists that are more tiny than those of a butterfly. I am not a large woman. I am toward the small end of average. It is not my fault he is a bit taller than most. I don't mind that, though.

My hands might not be smaller that those of butterflies, but I know that my heart has been given wings. I feel like it lifts up to soar higher than the kite we flew together. I cannot explain it. It came from no where. I was not looking, and he was not looking. This is not what either of us planned, but I am thankful it did happen. He makes me feel alive. He makes me feel and see the world around me in ways I have not experienced it in so long. I see through new eyes with him. Is there a better gift a man could give a woman than to renew her entire being? I don't think so.

I Do Dare

to risk it.

It takes courage to push yourself to places that you have never been before... to test your limits... to break through barriers. And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~ Anais Nin

~~~~

I have to risk it. If I do not risk it, I could miss out on what might be the most wonderful thing of my life. It is not so much that I dare TO risk, but it is that I do not dare not to. There is more to loose than there is to gain by hiding my head in the sand. This happiness, these smiles, this joy is all too precious to dare let slip away. I dare to risk it. I dare to risk my heart.

Some Things Just Naturally Go Together

like her and I!

I have missed T'zuri. Her voice at the fires, her to talk to, her to share my thoughts and feelings with. There are just those people that will always be special to you, no matter what. She is such a person. She has a kind heart, she cares about everyone be they brand new or long time here at the First Wagons. She has a soul that is as bright as any star in the sky. When she stopped coming to the fires it was like a light went out, and a void was left that nothing could fill. That is T'zuri's gift. She is life, she is zest, she is spice.

No, T'zuri did not die. She did something else. She submitted to Fonce, and I had not seen her since then. I missed her, but in a way I was afraid to go see her. Everything had changed, after all. She is a slave now. I am a free woman of the Tribe. There are things we once had in common that we will never have in common again. I did not want to face that, and I did not want to face her. There have been so many changes so quickly. Kaz and Zarina's death so close together, then this, I just could not keep up with it all. I needed time to put everything together in my head before I dealt with things.

Fonce, he helped to bridge the gap. He is a good person, and a good friend. I was blessed the day the Skies introduced us. He has been a quiet, but steady, source of encouragement and guidance in his own way. I should actually 'thank' him for it. That's another matter, though. We talked. T'zuri and I talked for ahns and ahns. Things shared, spilled out from each of us. The flood of so many thoughts held in just could not be stopped. She and I, no matter what path our lives take that bond will always remain strong. She is happy. I love her as a sister. What else matters?

I won't ever be sorry

for being happy!

I'm not sure if it was an argument or not. He thought I had been laughing at him, and that thought seemed to hurt him. I can understand why it would, too. I was not laughing at him. I was laughing because something he said made me happy. Well, I just told him that! I told him he would know if I ever laughed at him. I was laughing because I was happy, and because he had made me happy, and I would not be sorry for it. He seemed to like that answer. Yes, yes he did.

Why do people laugh at or mock those that are different? I'll never understand that. If we were all the same the world would be such a boring place. It is our differences that make us who we are. I like people, but I would not want to be exactly like them. They would no longer be the special person they are. Aiyana would not be as special if every other woman in the Tribe were her. Arigh would not be so special if she saw things like each other person in the Tribe. Cana would just be another face in the crowd if we were all exactly the same. How boring, how dull, and how sad such a world would be. No, I won't be sorry I am happy. I will be sorry that people are so insecure in who they are that they cannot accept someone who is different.

How

can this be? How can it feel as if I have known this man my whole life? How can it feel like he is the piece that has been missing which I never knew was not there? We have only known each ot her such a short time. How can this be after only that? Surely this is just some sort of dream from which I will waken from, because this just cannot truly be real. I don't understand it. I am afraid of it, and yet I cannot make myself pull back from it either. I don't know what is happening between us, but I know that somehow it feels right.

Bridges

take time to build if they are to last.

~~

There is something to be said for taking the time to know a person. We, all of us, tend to only show those bits of ourselves we like when first meeting. I do this. I hold in my own insecurities, my own fears, my own shortcomings. I show the brave face. The smile and the laugh. These are the pieces that I show at first. It is not until knowing someone, truly knowing them, that these other sides are shown. That is why building a friendship takes time. Oh, there are those you instantly connect with! It still takes time to truly know them. It is an absolute impossibility to know all there is about someone the very first time you meet them.

It is possible to feel like you have known someone forever. People which that feeling comes to me with are few and far between. Talking to them is comfortable, it comes easy, and it is like a warm blanket wrapping its way around me on a cold winter's night. T'zuri was like that, as was Zarina. I've felt that Fonce could be such a friend, but we are not there yet. Sahli is such a person. Talking to him is easy. I don't have to be afraid that he is going to laugh at me. We share laughter together, yes, but we don't laugh at each other. This is important. It is a part of building that bridge that is a true friendship. One should never be afraid to be themselves around those that they call friend, or to be who they are with those who might become more than friends with. There is no real anything if it is not built on honesty.

We have talked ahns that have felt only like ehn. We have shared some of our own fears, and our own thoughts on our short comings. These talks are parts of the bridge that we are building. Each talk brings us that much closer together. I have never felt this way about a man before. I have never smiled just at the thought of the man. I have never felt my heart swell when I see him walk near by before. It is strange, it is frightening, but it is wonderful. Yes, I know that he has his own past. He's been honest with me about that. I would rather him be honest with me than for our bridge to be built on lies. Bridges built on lies are doomed to eventually crumble under the weight of those lies. The truth is better. The truth is much better.

Do they enjoy

drawing blood with each poke time and again?

I have noticed that there are those that seem to simply enjoy picking at those that cannot, or will not, pick back. They seem to get a sick, and distasteful to me, joy out of their ability to keep on pricking long after they have drawn blood. I wonder if this is because they get some sense of power from it? What kind of power is that? Oh, I'm impressed! You have the power to be a bully. Awe inspiring. Yes, that was utterly sarcastic. I find it pathetic and rather sad, really. If their own sense of self-worth is slow low, so little, so insignificant that they cannot feel it without making someone else loose their own then that is a truly sad statement about them.

There is such a difference between speaking the truth and harping endlessly. I've seen so much of the latter lately that my stomach is sick with it. Its led me to reassess my thoughts about some people. I have never found strength to be the ability to make someone else feel low. I've found that true strength is in being able to guide while one guided feels their worth at the same time. Its easy to break down. It is in building up that the challenge lays. These are just the thoughts of a silly woman, though. Maybe this is how they get their kicks. Maybe it is how they find their enjoyment in a day. It must be a rather boring day for them to have to stoop to such a simplistic form of entertainment. How sad that this is the only joy they can find in their lives.

This this the thing, though. One day there is going to come a time when these same people are feeling low. They are going to have snipped, picked, and pricked at so many people that there will be no one left to lift them up. They will have alienated those that would have once extended the hand to help them and dust them off. What goes around comes around. When you dish out dirt you have to know that one day, one day you are going to eat it, too.

A gift

Now I have to see if he will let me give it to her. I made it for the one who used to be called T'zuri. Her name is boots now. I haven't seen her since she submitted to Fonce. I wonder if she is happy? He seems happy, and I hope that is a sign that she is equally happy. I can't understand her choice, but I can say I love the woman who was my friend enough that I can accept it. Things are going to change between us. They have to. We are not longer peers or equals. I am a free woman of the Tribe, and she is the slave of Fonce. It has created a gulf, but I am not going to say its one that cannot be bridged. We may never be the friends we used to be, but we will never be enemies. This doll, it will tell her that t he love of a friend is forever. Even when our paths go different directions. I just need to make sure that Fonce doesn't mind if I give it to her.

Do I dare?

Take this chance? Will fear hold me back? I don't know. This is so new, so unexpected, and so amazing that I don't have the words for it. I wish T'zuri were here. I wish I could speak to her about it. I wish we could toss this around, explore it together, and look at it from all sides. I have not missed her this bad in a long time. Yet, I have not felt less alone in a long time either. I don't feel invisible any more. I don't feel unseen. I feel - special. I feel as if someone sees me for who I am. I feel as if my thoughts, my words, my feelings have weight. That is a feeling that could give a heart wings. The question is, do I let my heart take to this fledgling flight knowing that it might crash down to the ground or do I hide my head in the sand for fear of t hat crash? I don't know if there really is a choice. Its like a falling star hurtling toward the ground. It seems to be happening, even when I wasn't so sure I wanted it to.

I have a bosk!

Its a herd of one. What shall I name him? Fonce gave him to me as payment for the vest I gave him. I think he over paid, but I am not going to turn away a fine bosk such as this. Its the start of a herd! Its a small start, but it is a start. Every journey begins with but one step, and besides, Isu said she would trade me a female bosk. I am excited. The future is looking bright in so many ways. I dare to hope. That, is a gift by itself.

The funny, and sweetest thing, is that I think Fonce enjoyed giving the bosk as much as I enjoyed receiving it. He took delight in my delight. The happiness was a shared thing. That is special, too. The ability to share joy with others is a rare gift I've only seen in a few. He has it. I just don't think he rarely indulges it. He is a man that deserves more joy in his life. He deserves to know that people do care. Not about their Ubar, but about the man who IS their Ubar. There is a difference. I do not mistake our talks for anything more than they are. We share thoughts, we are friends. I am content with that, and happy that he has chosen to allow that. It is a gift I will cherish.

Darting about like a

a little bird with no direction comes to no good. I have seen this happening on several fronts. I see people darting about, searching for something in so many different places. I wonder if they will even know it when they finally do find it. Will they be so used to darting in, tasting, and running off that they don't realize that they finally found what it is they are looking for? Do they understand what this makes them look like? They seem inconstant. They seem unable to see things through. It is one more case of being careful of what one's actions say about them, because these actions to speak to the sort of person that they are. Do they hear the voice of their actions or are they deaf to it? Do they even care? That is the real question. Do they really care about anything, or anyone, but themselves? Its hard to tell. One of the symptoms of youth is the desire to experience and taste from life. I have it. I've done my share of flitting and darting. There comes a time when youth is no longer an excuse, and you have to simply wonder if the person even really knows what it is they want.

The Stars Came Down

to visit us.

“What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.”

There are no words to describe a moment that seemed to hang forever as if it existed outside of time in some place of its own. There is nothing I could ever say or write to give that time justice, but it will forever linger in my memory. It is one of those things that makes you believe in magic, and it makes the word seem wide and wonderful again. The fireflies themselves, in this time of year, seemed magical enough. There was more to it than that, though. That was only the beginning of this wonderful night.

I don't know what his vision was, but I do know what mine was. It was a happy vision, and it was one that gives me hope for my own future life. The image of the brown eyed boy holding my hand while we walked through the wagon rows toward the fires still brings a smile to my lips. I did not see the face of this boy child, but I knew that he was my child. I will be a mother one day. I do want a family. I wish the same things other women want, of course. I wan a mate and children. I want to hear the laughter of those children, and I wish to hear the laughter of that Mate. I am simply not in such a hurry to have those things that I grasp at every man that smiles in my direction. I am not mated to the idea of having a mate that I grow desperate. The Skies have this all worked out, and they will bring it to be as it pleases them. Until then I will continue to do as I have done. I will build my life, my happiness, my self confidence. If I am not happy without this mate in my life, then I can't be happy even with him. Happiness comes from within ourselves, and we share it with those we are with. Happiness cannot be given by someone else. Those that think it can are going to forever find themselves disappointed. It doesn't matter. The stars danced with us this night, and I saw the brown eyed boy in my vision. My life will be a good one. I am sure of that now.

Anger is so...

Ugly.

There are some who might not believe this, but I have a bad temper. I have learned to control it most of the time. I don't ever want to say something to someone that I cannot take back. The hurt from words is no less than that from a knife or a lance, and sometimes it is even worse. I don't want to be responsible for that. I find that when that happens my anger hurts me as much, maybe worse, than the person it was directed to. I know that many might think that I don't have a temper because I keep it so strongly in check. Its not because I don't have one, but because the one I have can flare so bright. I have learned to leave it alone, to think about it, and come back to it when I am calm. I don't hurt others, and I don't hurt myself that way.

My anger has been trying to get the best of me lately. I don't know why, either. Maybe its all the ups and downs this winter has brought? Maybe its the loss of two so close, well actually four, in such a short time? I don't know. My temper has simmered close for days now. I just have to remind myself - anger, is ugly.

So Many Pieces

How do they all fit?


In life people show us themselves in snippets. The first pieces are usually those that they want you to see. The good pieces. Those pieces that are pretty and shiny. People rarely have a problem with those pieces of themselves being seen. Its those darker ones they don't want to show. Those pieces that are ugly with wear and tear, or jagged around the edges so that the prick and draw blood, those pieces are the ones that we don't ever see right away. They are the pieces we all have. Every person has pieces that they try to keep hidden away. Those pieces of temper, or self seen flaws. It doesn't have have to really 'be' a flaw for a person to see it as one and hide it away.

The trick is meshing all these pieces of a person together to see who they really are. Are we the shiny pieces that we show the world around us, or are we the darkest pieces we hide away? I tend to believe we are the sum total of the picture that all of these pieces are when joined together. The whole picture is always better than pieces anyway. Well, not always. There are those times that when the pieces are put together the picture becomes quite ugly. The funny thing is, we have the ability to change that picture. We can guide our own behaviors, and we can learn to let go of those dark pieces to trade for better ones. That is, if we want to.

Its selfish, its wrong, but....

I miss my friend.

"A friend will break your heart, a friend will mend it, a friend will provide you with every feeling in the world, good and bad. A friend is emotion incarnate."

~~~~

I had one of those moments the other day. It was the type of moment where you turn to your bets friend to share it, and to discuss it in great depth. I turned, but she's not there. I wanted to tell her what I had discovered inside of myself, and to pick it apart with her. She always helps me look at things from more than one side, but this time - I guess I can't. Oh, its not like she was the only woman in the Tribe. She was my friend, though. She was the only one I connected with on -that- level. This didn't make her better, or worse, than the other women. It simply made her the one that understood me the best.

I miss her.

Sometimes Strength

Is hidden within.

“Strength is Happiness. Strength is itself victory. In weakness and cowardice there is no happiness. When you wage a struggle, you might win or you might lose. But regardless of the short-term outcome, the very fact of your continuing to struggle is proof of your victory as a human being.”

Daisaku Ikeda

~~~

What is strength? Really? What is this thing called strength? Who is it that determines if one is strong and another is weak? By what right does a person have to simply make these choices for another arbitrarily? I think strength is something more than some people think it. Oh, there is the strength of arms. There is the ability to use the lance and bow, the bola, and to fight to protect our people. I don't think that is all there is to strength. If it were then there would not be some men that are leaders and others that are not. I don't pretend to understand it all, but I figured that part out.

There is a simple, and very deep, strength in the very act of just being true to one's self. There is strength in walking the path that belongs to you despite what might try to get in your way and veer you off of it. There is strength in so many aspects of life. This strength goes often unseen. There's one, I think he's stronger than many think he is. I know he is, that's better. I know he's far stronger than many give him credit for. I am going to enjoy watching them discover that within this man is a strength they never imagined. Somehow, I'll even refrain from saying I knew it all along.

Sometimes the best way to show you care....

Is to go away so they don't feel trapped.

~~~~

We all need space sometimes. It might be because we want to be alone with our thoughts. It might be because we are going through something we don't feel we wish to share with others. It might just be because we are embarrassed at that moment, and we don't wish that to be made worse by the moment being shared. What ever the reason for it, when someone expresses the wish to be left alone it is best to leave them alone unless they are in dire risk of their own life. When a person remains after being asked, or told, to go it is not so much a selfless act as a selfish act. We let our own desires override the desires of the one we are supposedly there to help. That became an issue today.

The Drummer made a mistake. He took too much of a medication. It is probably because so many people were speaking to him at once he did not properly hear Silken's directions. I know she was upset, because she is a Healer at heart. Despite the fact it was not her fault, of course Silken felt to blame for it. I can understand that. I can understand why Sahli was embarrassed by his error, too. The results of the error were not fatal, but they certainly left the man feeling far worse for the wear. I wanted to go to him, and I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to reassure him that he's not the first man to make an error, and he surely won't be the last one to do so either. Mistakes are just one of those unavoidable parts of life. I didn't go to him. He wanted to be alone.

Someone did go to him. I heard him, between his bouts of being ill, asking - then screaming - at her to leave him alone. She did not. She forced him to suffer not only his being ill, but she made him do so with an unwanted audience. I know this woman, and I am very sure her heart was in the right place. I am absolutely positive that the only thing on her mind was worry for him. I can understand that. I shared her worry, but I understood his desire to be alone with the consequences of his error. Vomiting is never a pretty thing. Doing it in front of an audience is even less pleasant to be sure. It is just one of those things we all prefer to not share with others, and due to the fact that I tend to vomit when another is doing so - its good that its not shared with me. I don't think she set out to be selfish, but I do think that her refusal to allow him his pride and dignity was very selfish on her part. Its hard to explain, because I do not think her a selfish person. I just think in this case she did not realize how selfish she was being.

I waited at the fire until I heard him stop being sick. I was worried, and before I went to go tend to my wagon I wanted to know he would be all right. I grabbed a bota of water to take with me to my wagon, and I had every intention of dropping it by his wagon once I had finished tending to a few things. That would give him time to put himself back together enough that he would not mind at least a brief visit to drop off the cool water. I remember my mother telling me when you've been sick like that it is important to drink a lot. I don't know why, but I've heard Healers say the same thing. I did not make it to his wagon. I get to my wagon, and there he is perched on the steps. It was a pleasant surprise even if he did have a bit of a green look to him.

We talked for a bit. I think he ended up feeling a bit better, both physically better and in better spirits. He was at least smiling a bit. We were going to have a lovely meal of broth and bread. My own stomach was a bit uneasy from the sounds of his earlier troubles. Yes, I know that's pretty sad, but its the truth. I'm a sympathetic vomiter. Oh well, that's who I am. He nodded off there on my steps. I covered him with a fur, and I just let him rest. He needed it, and if he was comfortable there I would not disturb him. I am glad that I was able to bring him a measure of comfort.

He is a puzzle this man. He is a mass of contradictions. Each time that I see him or speak wit him, each time we have a few ehn to talk I see a new facet of him. The discoveries are interesting, and they make me look forward to seeing him again. I went to put my mending basket up, and to get my wagon ready for nightfall. When I stepped back out he had gone. Maybe his little nap refreshed him, or maybe he went back to sleep more comfortably at his own wagon. Either way, I will check on him tomorrow.

He seems to hear differently than most.

His name is Shali Luu. He is a man I have not had much chance to know. Well, I don't know many of the men except Saresh. I know Saresh due to us sharing a Clan, and that had given us common ground to discuss things on. Sahli, well he and I have had bad timing. I met him the night Kaz died. I was not at my best, and we did not get to do much conversation then. The next time I saw him we were both entwined in other things, and of course talking was not on our mind. The next time I saw him was when Zarina died. This was another blow, another friend gone, and clearly not my most social moment. I remember when I made Tribe, it was the day of the Kites, and he helped make that day special for me despite his not knowing me well. It was a favor I returned when the Drums sang his acceptance. I left a very special hide for him, one that will be perfect for a drum skin or anything else he chooses. I wanted to make his day as special as he had made mine. Well, I had asked him to teach me to fly a kite, and yesterday he decided was the day to start.

I enjoyed the time with him. I got to watch him, and to learn some of his ways. He is different. He seems more introspective than most men I know, and I actually did enjoy that quality about him. He seems to be a bit distracted at times, but yet his focus is really far more sharp than most might think of him. He just seems to hear a different beat to life than the rest of us, and that keeps him slightly out of step. Its not really a bad thing, and it works for him. The afternoon brought a few unexpected things, and I will sort through them in my own way. The most unexpected, and precious thing, was the laughter. We shared laughter, and we shared something else. I took a chance with this man, a chance I rarely take, and I extended the hand of trust. Now, we'll see what he does with it.

Its Done...

But is it good enough? I won't know until I give it to him.

Well, it was good enough. I am so glad he liked it. I have often felt that words are not as meaningful as actions. It is the care I take in the things I make that speak for the care I have for my tribe. It is the care I took in this vest that speaks directly of the care I have for the man that will now wear it. It is an unspoken way of telling him that he is important, he is special, he is cared about. We all need to know that. No one is an island completely to themselves no matter how much they might think they are. Each of us, at times, at least needs the smile of another person, or to know that we spent a bit of time in the thoughts of another.

He liked it. You know, the man does need some new pants. He's been too long between new clothes. I am not his woman, I am not his sister, but I am of the same Tribe and he is my Guardian. More importantly, I am someone who would like to think we are becoming friends.

With all the shock of an explosion!

I have never really spent much time talking to the Ubar. He has always seemed beyond reach. I had to seek him out today, and give him the kaiila blanket I started for him some time ago. It took time to finish correctly, within the design of the initial work he wanted made into a blanket. It took so long he actually forgot about it. Its a good thing I did not.

He did seem to like it a great deal. I was delighted by how much he seemed to like it. We discussed the meaning of the work, this patchwork quilt of leather made of nothing but humble scraps to become something beautiful. I shared with him the lesson that was made into it. That had been part of the task Mayala gave me as I strove to prove my worth as a Prospect. He seemed to grasp the lesson, and frankly I'm sure he grasps it even better than I do. He is the Ubar after all.

We talked after that. I learned a bit more of the man I've only watched from afar. It was good to be let into his world just a little bit. I enjoyed the laughter, even the banter we engaged in. I enjoyed talking to him about things that matter to me as well. I began to see him not as the Ubar, but as a man. I think its important that we all remember that. He's not just this figure head. There is a real thinking, breathing, feeling person in there.

He asked for me to make him a Vest, and now that is my next project.

Leather and Women

I used to think my father was very strange for saying that a good woman is like a finely worked leather. The more I think about it, it seems to make sense! Leather is strong, yet soft. Leather is able to be both rigid and flexible. Leather can be torn, but it can also be mended. Leather comes in different colors and styles. No two hides are ever exactly the same, even if they are cured in the same fashion.

It seems to me that is what a Tuchuk woman is, too. We have to be strong, yet know when to be soft. We have to know when to be rigid and when to be flexible. We can have our hearts torn, but they will mend in time. No two women are the same, and our emotions do not work the same. Even if we are treated exactly alike by someone, each of us will respond differently. We each have our quirks, our stains, our unique qualities like a well tanned leather.

I'm not so sure that many would like this comparison, but I find it amazingly apt. Then again, most of life can be related to leather or its workings. There is so much more to it than many ever see. His often made comments about a woman being like leather came back to me tonight while I mulled over the things that have happened. Mayala ran away. That is something my mind still wants to reject. She left her people behind her, and she never even said good bye. My heart, it doesn't want to accept that. If this is truly what she did then these are her choices. They are not choices I could have made, but then again she is not me and I am not her. T'zuri has chosen to become a slave. She submitted to a man. Yes, it was to Fonce. He is quite a man. That doesn't really make it any easier to understand. Again, that is her life. My life, and my ways, well we're a different hide all together. Not sure what we will become when life is done tanning and curing us, but I do know that each day brings about another step in the process.

Change Affects Everything

I hadn't been sure despite the rumors, but it seems that the rumors are true. T'zuri did submit to Fonce. Part of me is outraged by this, and part of me is angry. Part of me cannot believe a woman I called friend would throw away her freedom like that. I can't pretend to understand, and I won't say that I do. Fonce studied me as he confirmed those rumors, and I looked into his eyes I did figure something out. He is happy. If she is as happy as he is I will accept it. I might never understand it, but I can find my way to accept it. I loved T'zuri like a sister, and she was my best friend. I will mourn the loss of those two things. Nothing will ever be the same between us, and I'm sure that she knows it as well as I do. I am not so selfish as to hate her, or him, for the choices that they made, though.

I have watched Fonce, much like I have watched everyone at the fires. I have seen him seem to be right here, right with us, and yet so often I get from him the sense of someone that is on the outside looking in. He seems, to me, as if he doesn't quite feel as if he belongs, and yet he knows he does. I am sure that some of that is the weight of his responsibility as it rests on his shoulders. He is the Ubar, and that is not a small duty. He carries it well. I am not even thinking that he doesn't. If he has found a small measure of peace and solace from those responsibilities, then I cannot begrudge him that even when I want to.

T'zuri, or now boots as she is called, is not the only change among the First Wagons. It's true, Mayala is gone. From the look of the tracks she is not off wandering, this is no accident. She left us. She left of her own choosing for what ever reasons. Those are reasons I cannot understand, either. At least T'zuri did not abandon her people. She submitted to a man, but she did not turn her back on the Tribe. She is still here, if different. It is like Mayala has died. Her presence is gone in all things and ways. What lays north that is so important, so vital, that she would turn her back on those that she called family? No, that is not something I will ever understand.

The ripples spread. The changes are many. Deaths, submissions, abandonments and betrayals. I do not know when this season of change will ebb. I only hope to ride out its currents as the ripples spread across the surface of our lives. I do know that the Tribe, like me, will weather the changes. We will never be the same, but we will remain always Tuchuk.

Its Not Only Our Words

Of all the things that my grandmother taught me I think the most important of them was to be aware that it is not only my words that say things to people. In fact, according to her, the words were less than half of the message that could be delivered to a person. My actions, my deeds are what speak the loudest about myself. It is my actions that will let people know I am a woman of my word. It is my actions that will speak the truth of what I really think of them. It is my actions that will reveal the truth about me. Words are easily spoken, and only cost the expenditure of a bit of breath. Its the actions of living that require effort. If the actions and the words do not mesh up, what does that say about me?

My actions can prove me industrious or lazy. They can prove me truly caring or callous. They can name me honest or a liar. They can name me thoughtful or hot tempered. My words can say what "I" want them to say, but it is my actions that will say what is really going on within me.

"Be careful not of what you say, but of what it says about you." Because even the words I choose, and the tone, and the manner I choose to give them says something about me. My grandmother taught me to be observant of the world around me, and to be very observant of the people around me. That gift from her I have to think is one of the most valuable she has ever given me. It has guided me often, and I don't think it will ever cease to guide not only how I behave, but also how I view others. She was a wise woman. I do miss her.

Confused!

I must admit that I am new to the First Wagons, and I do not yet grasp all the interesting under currents that flit about. I have found things that are not as I have thought they would be, and I have found things exactly as I thought they would be. The contradictions are the hardest to keep track of. Last night, I grew very confused as I watched something play out before my eyes. It was the fact I am so new to the First Wagons that kept me quiet. Maybe there is something I do not understand that was going on behind the scenes? I only know that I sat there and watched a slave that had been dismissed by the woman she served to serve others get scolded for choosing to serve her owner, who happened to be also a Free Man, a Warrior and the UBAR of our tribe. I have no idea why any of that was wrong of her to do? I don't know, but maybe those that scolded the slave felt they should be ranked higher than the Ubar himself? Maybe they thought they should be higher in the slave's estimation than the man? Maybe they feel that here, among the Tuchuk, that a slave being pleasing to men is less important than to women? I don't know. I won't even ask. I will watch and see. It is a contradiction to everything I have ever been taught - and perhaps the whole of the story is not know.

Maybe She Didn't Leave?

There was talk about Mayala at the fires tonight. I had listened to Saresh, I thought it was known that she had left of her own choosing. It was not until I listened to the others that doubt began to enter my mind. She didn't pack any of her clothing with her. She didn't pack any provisions. She did not take her wagon, and she didn't seem to have planned to be gone for long. Maybe something else happened. Maybe something terrible happened to her. How harsh my thoughts of earlier were. Maybe Mayala did not leave, but maybe she can't get back from what ever took her away from us. Now I am worried. I am very worried.

What if she is hurt and alone? What if she is sick again? What if she has been taken by someone intent to do harm to her? How could someone come into the wagons and take her from us? The Outriders and sleen would have known they were there before they could take her. No one can get past them except those that belong within our midst. No, she was not taken from the wagons. She left the safety of the circle of her own choosing. That does not mean she intended to stay gone. She could have encountered someone or something once she was away from the wagons proper. Who knows. Anything could have happened to her. There I was angered at her having abandoned us when it is us that abandoned her.

How Could She?

Maybe I have a small mind, and maybe it is closed. I cannot imagine leaving the Tribe, the Plains, and my home for any reason. Life swells with joy, and it overflows with sorrow at times - that is part of life. That does not mean we run away from our problems. That does nothing, and it never makes them go away. That is only the coward's way of hiding from things that we do not wish to face. I cannot imagine doing that. Mayala did. That's where she has been. She left the Tribe as if we were nothing to her.

I know that she and Saresh had their problems. Everyone in the Tribe knows since many of their discussions happened in front of the fires for all to see. People talk, and that is another facet of Tribe life. That is not the point. I know they had their problems, but I never expected either of them to just pack and leave like that. It doesn't make any sense. I have no right to be hurt, but I am. I have no right to be angry, but I am. I feel betrayed. I thought I was her friend, and she didn't even talk to me or try. I thought we were close, and I knew nothing about these plans to leave her life and family behind. I feel betrayed. Its like another death. She is not dead, but she might as well be.

Where Is She?

I have looked for Mayala. I wanted to share with her the joy of my having been allowed to the First Fires. My days as a Prospect behind me, and my place is now earned. I wanted to thank her for her support and help. I cannot find her anywhere. I thought, at first, I was just missing her. We have played that game before. She arrives to the fires ehn after I leave, or I arrive ehn after she leaves. It is not a fun game, but it is one that everyone plays now and again.

I know things have not been as she would wish them. I have done my best not to involve myself in the private matters between her and Saresh. They are both my friends, and what happens within their wagon happens between them. It is impossible not to sense the tension between them, though. It is not that I don't care, because I truly do care. It is because I would wish privacy to deal with things that are family matters myself as well. It is a little thing called respect.

Where is she now, though? I have not seen her at her wagon, nor the stream, nor the fires. I have not met her in passing. I have simply not seen her. Its as if she is simply gone from the world. I will ask around. Maybe someone else has seen her. I cannot shake the feeling something is wrong with my friend. I cannot shake the feeling that I might not see her again. There has been so much death and loss already, maybe I am just over reacting?

Learning to Fly

“Character contributes to beauty. It fortifies a woman as her youth fades. A mode of conduct, a standard of courage, discipline, fortitude, and integrity can do a great deal to make a woman beautiful.” ~ Author Unknown

~~~~~~~

Tuchuk women are things of beauty. I am not talking fair of face and form, though surely there are none so lovely as a born Tuchuk woman. I am talking about something far more important. I am talking about a beauty of soul and spirit that cannot be duplicated by any other people, anywhere. We are strong. We are no less fierce than the men of our tribe. We are just as wily, and maybe more so. The Plains are harsh. There is no room out here for people that are weak in spirit, mind, heart or body. We might show our beauty of spirit in different ways, but none of us lack that beauty. We are each different, as the petals of a flower or the flakes of snow that fall in the frigid night. Each of us is unique, and each of us is a vital part of our tribe.

We do not need to be just like the other. That is part of the mystery of life. Our strengths are diverse, and they compliment one another greatly. If we were all good at the 'same' things, then who would do the things that we were not good at? Some of us are better listeners. Some of us have the knack to slice right to the heart of a matter in very few words. Some of us can find the right, pretty words to make a point without raising someone's defenses. We each have our traits, but it is combined that our true strength shows. Each of us remains strong in our own right, but we are 'mighty' in combined forces. The trick is finding one's niche, and then being true to themselves. Do not change just because someone thinks you should, change only when you feel that by growing and changing you become a better person. Not everyone is going to like everyone else. That doesn't mean they do not 'respect' one another. Like and respect mean two entirely different things.

I can soar

Sahli made kits to celebrate those that made the first fires. It was a thoughtful gift, and one that got me to thinking. I felt as if I was that kite so high did my own spirit seem to be soaring that morning. The dawn was just a bit brighter, the day just a bit warmer even in the midst of winter, and the company of those I am close to just that much more welcome.

I have asked him if he will teach me to fly one of them, and he was good enough to agree to do so. It looks like it will be fun. I still cannot get the image of Fonce trying to peek around the large yellow kite out of my head. There is this big, wonderfully made, yellow kite in front of his face. Suddenly you see one of his eyes, about half his face, peeking first to one side, then the other, then trying to peek under it and over it. I could not help the laughter that brought forth. He was happy. I have rarely seen such a genuine smile on his face. It was a good morning. Yes, the soul CAN soar. Mine has.

Let That Light Shine

I made it. I heard the drums this morning. I am no longer a Propsect of the First Wagons. I am a Woman of the First Wagons. I feel like I could walk on the clouds. I never thought that this sort of joy was possible. I think the smile is frozen upon my face. My first thought was to share it with T'zuri and Zarina. I remembered that Zarina's not here, and for a few ihn I felt the sorrow threaten. Something odd happened. Its winter, but I felt a warm touch of the wind on my face. It was fleeting, but it was really there. I think it was Zarina letting me know she knows, and that she shares my joy.

It is a huge step in my life. It is just that, though. It is the beginning, not the end, of a journey. I know where my path lies, but I don't know where it will go. I know it will forever be within this Camp, among these people, but where it will take me I cannot imagine. I will walk that path the same way I have so far. My head will be high, my shoulders straight, and my heart filled with the Song of the Plains upon which I live. The Skies will be my shelter, and the grasses my comfort. I am Tuchuk. I am proud.

Life Goes On

The Potter is gone. No more will I see her lovely works of art being made, or bringing joy to so many. I am adjusting to that fact. We all are. There is no real other choice. She is gone, and we are still here. The dawns still come, and lift goes on. This is a truth that we all learn eventually. Life can be harsh, and people close to us are going to die. It doesn't mean we did not love them because we are able to keep up with the rhythm of life. It means that we understand that our lives are not over just because someone else's is. It doesn't mean I loved Zarina any less. It means that I understand the facts of life.

I have spent some time with the Weaver. Aiyana is a woman who has the ability to put the spirit at ease. She has a quiet strength in her that is like a warm blanket on a cold night. Just being near her last night helped me feel less alone and more like my old self. It was good, and it was relaxing. I do not even know if she knows the calming way she has about her, but I was grateful for that aspect of her personality. I will miss the Potter. There are going to be times that I still look for her even though I know that she is not going to come. One does not forget those people that have left foot prints in our lives. I will also continue to live my life with joy. There is no other right way to remember her. If her loss caused a grief so bad that life stopped then I would do her memory no honor. If Zarina was anything, she was a woman that loved life to its fullest. She embraced her life with both arms. I can do no less.

She is Gone

She is gone. It happened that fast. Just yesterday laughing and talking, and today I help the other women to prepare her for her pyre. I can still barely absorb it. It seems so unfair! It seems so wrong. She had so much to look forward to. There was so much she had not yet done. There were people who loved her so very much, and none of that mattered when the time came for her to ride on into the next world. She left us so suddenly. No warning. No crash of thunder. Nothing!

I am angry. I want to scream at the Skies to send her back. I don't have so many that I consider a friend that the loss of yet another goes unfelt. Its so soon after we lost the Year Keeper. My heart feels cold in my chest. It feels like a stone that is trapped in the grip of winter's ice, and I wonder if it will ever thaw out again. I keep expecting to hear her laugh. I keep expecting to see her come to the fires. I keep expecting - her.

I cannot get Polunu's face out of my mind. No, he and I are not what I would call close. He's been pleasant to me, and I am grateful for that. It is just that we have not forged a tight bond as I had with her. He had formed one with her. It was far deeper than anyone knew from the look on his face last night. Part of me wants to say something, but I know there is no such words that will ease that pain for him. I wanted to do something to help. I can't. Nothing will bring her back.

Tomorrow will dawn. Life will go on. It will just never be the same.

Rock In My Boot

There is a new woman at the fires. She is one of the same Clan as my grandmother was. She did a reading for me. I was curious. She cautioned me to spend a bit more time and worry on myself, and that didn't come as a surprise. I've often been known to get on a project and work through both meals and the night. I had to agree she had a point. That wasn't what left me feeling glum.

It was the other part of the reading. That someone I view as abraisive and overbearing would be coming back into my life. Between that statement, and the visit with my mother that revealed Yul and his brother are going to be approaching the First Wagons I know who she is talking about. Yul, the man who has been like a pebble in my boot since we were children.

I could almost feel the cold mud on my face the time he tripped me face first into the puddle. I could feel the upset when he cut my braid off and used it as a paint brush. The tricks he played, the antics he committed all reared up and left me in a very surly mood. He was bad enough as a boy, what is he going to be like as a man? I have spent most of my most recent years avoiding him unless I had no choice. I won't deny he is smart and wiley. He is good on a kaiila, and from what my brothers say he is good with his weapons. That doesn't make him someone I want to spend any more time around than I must. He might be good for the First Wagons, only time will tell that. I won't try to trip him or his brother up on that quest, but that doesn't mean I have to be nice to him either.

Take Time to Laugh

There is nothing wrong with taking one's self too seriously. There are many times in life when we have to take a situation seriously, and we have to work through it. I refuse to take myself too seriously. I refuse to forget the delight of laughter, and I strive not to loose the simple wonder of being alive. I hope I never loose those things.

I have neither gift near as strongly as I had when I was a child. I have not lost it, but I do not seem to find so much to inspire that wonder as I once did. I miss when every blade of grass, every insect, and every cloud held a mystery to be puzzled out. I don't think it hurts any of us to pause and watch the world through the eyes of a child. They see things in their own way.

I have met many in my life who I think have forgotten the simple pleasures of life. Maybe they never knew them to begin with? These are the ones that walk around looking like they have sucked on a tospit all day. They have this sour, and disgruntled, expression about them. I've been known to look surly in my time, don't get me wrong! I simply do not make a habit of looking that way. These are the sorts of people that you begin to wonder if their face will break if they dare to so much as crack a smile. I never want to be one of those people. I would rather spend my time with people over shared laughter than to sit there and try to deliberately inflict hurt or pain on someone. I would rather spend my time in wonder of the most simple things life has to give us, than to find my self worth by the attempted humiliation of another.

People are as different as the blades of grass, this is true. How boring it would be were we all the same. I just simply cannot understand the decision to be miserable that some make. My mother always taught me that happiness is a choice. I have the choice to take delight in my life, even in the hard times, or I can choose to let the hardships overwhelm me. I have always walked the path of choosing the light over letting the shadows swallow me. This doesn't mean that I don't have my dark moments. It means I do not allow myself to become overwhelmed by those same moments.

I think we all need to just remember what it was like to make a silly face. We need to remember what it is like to laugh for no other reason than the sake of laughter. It is good for the soul.

Undercurrents

The moods of people are much like the unseen currents that lay under the seemingly still surface of a river. Sometimes those moods shift so rapidly you can see them like the river swollen after the rains or snow melts. Sometimes, those currents are subtle and hidden like the river when its frozen over. Those currents are always there, and they are always moving around us.

I have not been at the fire as much as I would like in the last hands. I was busy, but those of the First Wagons were in my thoughts. I return to find many currents moving around me that I do not quite understand. My friend Mayala seems to be the one most swept up in them. I worry for her, but I don't know how to tell her what I worry over. I just know something is not right. The currents seem to gather about her so strong. I fear that she will drown within their grasp.

That is the funny thing about currents. Sometimes we do have to fight their tug, but other times it is best to just go with their flow and see where it goes. The trick, the absolutely near impossible trick, is to figure out which time is which. Is it time to fight, or is it time to calmly float on by? I am still learning how to tell the difference myself.

Faces and Conversations

I have changed since coming to the First Wagons to seek my place here. I am grateful to Fonce for the chance to prove myself, and for him allowing me to do so with his own brand of quiet encouragement. When I am a bit intimidated by the crowd at the fire is when I notice his encouragement. It comes in a smile and his quiet greeting. It is not much, but it is enough that I know I am not without those that are glad I am there. That is quite enough for me to face another round of putting names to faces. There always seems yet more new names and new faces, and that can be more than a little overwhelming.

Fonce is not the only one that has helped with that. Cana, Falon Mayala, Saresh, T'zuri, Zarina, and even sometimes Polunu. I haven't seen the Bead Maker in some time, and I do hope that Sakmeta is all right. I miss her laughter, and I even miss the flashes of pink that come with her presence. If I don't see her about the fires soon I think I will go to her wagon to see if she is doing well.

I am finding that I have changed just in the short time here. I am still very much me, but I have grown. I do not find the large crowd as intimidating as I once did. I do not mind the voices of many, and it is easier to follow the different conversations that surround me all at once. I am more at peace with myself. I have made new friends, and I have had to say good bye to some of them already. The saying good bye is never easy. I find myself still looking for that plume of dust that heralds that one's arrival, but I don't see it. I know I won't, and yet I look for it anyway. I've watched some of the others, and I know I am not the only one that does it.

My mother asked me a question the other night. Both of my brothers have now claimed women for their own, and she asked me when it would be me being claimed. I told her that it would happen in due time, but that I was in no rush for it to. There is none that have my eye, and I have the eye of none that I know of, either. I am content with that. I truly do believe that I have to be at peace within myself, happy with who I am, before I could enter into a life with someone else for us both to be happy. If one is not then they could unbalance the whole thing, and it could fall apart. I am not ready. At least I know that.

Why the Change - OOC Post

Why change to this forum for the journal? That's a good question. I have seen others in the RP group using this forum, and so I investigated it. The forum is easy to use, and it can be easily customized to suite the feel of my character. These are good things when you are hopeless with codes. I switched to this forum, and provided a link back to Jaella's old journal.