He wished he understood even a fraction of what she was saying, and wished even more that he could respond in a way that would reassure her that he would not press himself upon her without her agreement.
He also wished he could completely trust Kevos enough to allow Sarah to rest at the outpost, before setting out for the last leg of their journey to the skilev. He now suspected introducing Sarah to the people of his skilev would be far more exhausting than he’d planned. They should not hold the same degree of enmity towards the nixirs, since they were not tasked with guarding against the invaders, but Kevos’ unexpected reaction to Sarah had shown that Jotaha could take nothing for granted.
She only turned around to look at him when he approached her. Her cheeks were a bright red color beneath the dirt that smudged her soft skin.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so nosy. I swear I’m not a perv.”
She was still babbling incomprehensibly, but her eyes were not filled with the hard gleam of outrage at his dishonorable behavior. Though she would not directly meet his eyes, her gaze shifting to the side as her cheeks grew ever brighter with the strange reddish tone, her relaxed body revealed that she did not see him as a direct threat. That, at least, gave him some relief. He hadn’t scared her away. She still seemed to trust him.
He gestured towards his pack, then towards the shelves, not bothering to explain his intent in words. Her gaze followed the direction of his movements. Though her eyes were still clouded with confusion, it was enough to stop her from talking in her rapid, nervous way. Instead, her efforts to understand his intention appeared to focus her mind. She tapped one finger on her bottom lip in a way that he had seen her do several times before as she’d tried to understand his words and gestures.
It was an affectation he found increasingly appealing. A small, nixir gesture that he had never seen a yan-kanat make while in thought.
Seeing that he had her attention on something more important than his previous, overeager behavior, he left her side to collect his pack and belt, then carried them to the shelves, eyeing the items stored there. As he selected a bundle of kirev cakes, wrapped in coarse woven fabric, he heard a drawn out sound from Sarah.
“Ooooh.” She followed it with, “Duh! We need to restock. This is probably some kind of general store type place. The proprietor isn’t really big on customer service, is he?”
He’d paused to hear her words, but finally had to accept that nothing she said made any kind of sense to him. Still, she had apparently figured out his intent, because she joined him at the shelves after setting aside the fur she’d worn around her shoulders since he’d placed it there. She’d hung it on one of the crystal spears with a nonchalance that would make most yan-kanat wince. Legend had it that the crystal spheres were formed from drops of Theia’s blood that were shed when Bal Goro slayed her to create this world for the yan-kanat. The crystals within each drop were treated with reverence, and even in creating these outposts, builders were careful not to disturb too many of them.
Still, he could not expect a nixir to understand this world, as the yan-kanat did not allow their kind to visit it freely. If nixirs made it this far into the barrens, they would be hunted and killed without hesitation or remorse.
Sarah took the bundle he handed her and bent to put it in his pack. He was pleased to see that she understood what they were doing even without words. He selected a full pouch of xirak to refill their depleted supply of it. When he handed it to her, he saw her lift it to her nose, take a cautious whiff, then bare her teeth in an expression he’d come to associate with her appreciation. After that, she added it to his pack.
He did not want to take much, as they only had one more night cycle to walk before they reached the edge of land that surrounded the skilev. It was a pity the sentils rarely used mounts, because they drew the attention of large predators to the hunter’s outposts. A pair of rituks would get them to the skilev much faster.
At least once there, they would have transportation to the temple, which was the first stop he would need to make with his new drahi.
He added one more bundle to the pack, and Sarah had shown interest when she’d sniffed the pouch of dried berries from the anetaak plant. Along with ane sap taken from certain trees, the berries were used to give sweetness to the flavor of things. Eaten alone, they were too sweet for Jotaha’s taste, but Sarah had seemed to relish the sweet pastry he’d given her, so he thought she might also enjoy the treat of the berries themselves.
He’d been pleased that he’d kept Sarah’s zayul, the hon-gree, well sated. They had not growled in anger since he’d led her from his campsite and began the dangerous journey out of the urvaka. He intended to keep her hon-gree content as long as it took for them to reach maturity and leave her. He hoped she would not need to acquire more at that point, but figured Seta Zul would not have chosen a drahi for him who needed something in order to survive or thrive that could not be found on this world.
After filling his vandiz skin, they were as supplied as they needed to be for one more night in the barrens. There was a campsite within a few sandfalls’ trek from this outpost. They would rest there for only four sandfalls, before moving on. He was eager to get home, and even more eager to get Sarah to the elder priests so one of the healers among them could see to her health and comfort. She had been through an ordeal, and the marks on her body were turning more appalling colors with each cycle that passed. At least they had faded somewhat, no longer as dark as they had been, but they were still turning colors of sickly green and yellow that did not look natural for a nixir. In contrast, the rest of her skin had only grown paler with each passing cycle, and he didn’t think that was natural either.
He hated to push her so hard, and suspected she needed more rest than he was letting her take, but he hadn’t felt that she was safe in the urvaka when he was still recovering and could not protect her as readily if more of the twisted nixir crossed the boundary. Now, he feared she might not be as safe in the barrens as he’d hoped. Even if Kevos would never harm her directly, there was no guarantee he or any other sentil would come to her aid if a barren stalker attacked their camp and managed to overwhelm Jotaha.
Jotaha had never felt this kind of distrust for his fellow yan-kanat before, and he wondered if this was the way nixirs lived every cycle of their lives, always hesitant to turn their backs on the ones they should be able to trust the most.
Sarah rose to her feet as he finished refilling the vandiz. He slung the skin from his belt, then reached for the pack. She shook her head and shouldered it herself, grunting a bit as the weight of it settled on her back.
“No, your shoulder is still hurting you. I can tell by how you’ve been favoring that side. I can carry this.”
He wanted to demand she give him the pack, knowing that her back was still healing from the slashes of the twisted nixir. At the same time, he could now better understand her mistrust of him. Though he would never have allowed a female yan-kanat to shoulder such a burden, he could tell that Sarah needed to have control of the supplies to make herself feel safer. Perhaps the pack itself covering her back even gave her a feeling of protection, in addition to knowing she had control of the food to continue her journey.
She also knew he kept his extra darts and poison in there, and no doubt wanted that additional protection. It pained him that she still didn’t trust him, but his experience with Kevos made him realize what it must be like to be uncertain of your own allies all the time. For the first time in his life, he pitied the nixirs for their back-stabbing natures.