Trees are People Too (Faith)

Qit'ria doesn't understand a local custom

Once an isolated and dying township, an influx of academics, adventurers and thrill seekers have made Scalvoris Town their home. From scholars' tea shops to a new satellite campus for Viden Academy, this is an exciting place to visit or make your home!

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Qit'ria
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Trees are People Too (Faith)

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Vhalar 1st, 717
"Speech"


Qit'ria was making her way toward Scalvoris Town, south from her cave, as the sun was rising. She yawned, glad that the damnable Saun heat was finally breaking. This was the latest she'd slept in for a long while, not tossing and turning in the stifling air. She had the latest supply of pelts, nothing much, a few from rabbits, one from a Hafrein deer, and a surprisingly red squirrel pelt. Being a huntress might put food in her belly, but selling animal parts is what bought her supplies. She was not good enough yet to be completely self sustaining, though the moment she could be would be the moment she would be.

As Scalvoris Town came into view, Qit'ria groaned inwardly. There were many carts, wagons, and steeds parked all around the outside of the city. Tents were going up now, as it seemed something with the town was inviting many guests to come there. That meant the town would be bursting at the seams with people. More people to stop her and talk to her for absolutely no good reason at all. The thought of all these people made her stomach toss and turn. People were so... complicated, especially en masse. So the huntress decided she would try to avoid them as much as possible.

So she found a vantage point by a tree, not hiding so much as just leaning against it to hope to go unnoticed, as she watched the hustle and bustle of people arriving and setting up. For a break she leaned there, watching. Merchants approached the gate in the palisade, stopped by the guards if they weren't known, or waved through if they were. She watched as a boy that was walking alongside a merchant's wagon was essentially ignored by the guards, presuming him to be the son of the merchant that drove the wagon perhaps.

Eyes leading away from the gate, following the dusty path carved by travelers, she saw a wagon approaching, pulled by a couple of donkeys. It was tall, ornate, and the driver was an older man, grey in hair, with a young woman sat next to him. Wife perhaps. Granddaughter more likely. She could see the pair talking, and the man having to constantly lean toward the woman. Perhaps he was hard of hearing. Qit'ria decided this would be her mark. So she waited for the wagon to get past her tree, then began calmly, but briskly walking on an intercept path. Faster her feet carried her until she was walking beside the wagon, but more toward the back. She couldn't see the driver nor the woman and assumed they couldn't see her.

She matched the wagon's pace, and pretended to be nonchalant about the whole ordeal. The guards knew her well enough to likely just wave her through, as there were not many Sev'ryn women in this town, and the few that were there certainly didn't appear to be as wild as her. So despite wishing to be left alone, Qit'ria stood out. Pelts over her shoulder, they arrived at the gate and stopped.

The guard looked at the driver, "Ah, good to see you again Grenald. Is this little Katara? Been ages since we've seen the pair of you."

The man, shouting a bit, likely due to his deafness, "Yessirree. Katara is taking over my business these days. Can already keep books better than me. Why she found that I'd been paying some man wages for three years despite him having died two years back. Keeps me right and true, she does. My little angel."

The guard smiled politely, trying to not show the sadness he'd felt at the man's waning mental state. He'd been a sharp merchant in his day, but it seemed the ravages of time had left no one unscathed. So he waved the wagon through, and gave Qit'ria a curt nod. As she passed through the walls into the town, she was cursing herself even more now. This was a terrible plan. Where there had been several people outside the city, inside there were an absolute ton.

Qit slipped around to the back of the wagon, and sat down on the frame that jutted out. And she let the wagon pull her through the town, disgusted at the amount of people they were passing. Merchants were haggling and harassing, children running wild, men and women happily carrying ribbons and lace about. It was all so... gross and civilized. The wagon eventually pulled them to a small park, with a few planted about it. She hopped off and slinked away from the wagon, when she noticed something odd.

The trees were all tied up. Wrapped around them were lace and ribbon. Qit'ria looked at it in horror. Who would do that to a tree? It was disrespectful of them and of the life giving forests of the world. Qit'ria stormed over toward the tree, grabbed a hold of the first ribbon she could find and began yanking on it, trying to break it loose. When it didn't give, she began rummaging through her pack, until she found one of her throwing knives. She'd bought them on a whim but hadn't actually practiced with them. Standing up, she started to reach the blade towards the ribbon, to cut it free, and soon, all the rest of the disrespectful ties.
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Trees are People Too (Faith)

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The market this trial was unlike any other in Scalvoris, Faith understood. The shops were shut from now until they opened again on the 9th and Faith had a list of things to buy. It wasn't for the restaurant that she ran, that was supplied by professional suppliers, but there were a lot of them living together. Her, Padraig and Luna in their home. Cyrus and Katie in the home next door. Faith took it as a personal challenge that they all ate as well as they could. If she could, Faith would make her people as healthy and as full of energy and goodness as she could make it.

So, the young human woman was making her way around the market area. There were a number of stalls which were unusual, or at least which were not regulars in Scalvoris Town and so Faith walked around them. She was delighted to get the ingot of star metal which she'd been looking for; there was a wedding ring that she had to have made and this had been the last metal. Faith was delighted and she was making her way around the stalls.

Fabric, metal, food, books and other supplies. There was just so much here and Faith was entranced. The young woman had come a long way since spending money on a spelunking kit had sent her into a tailspin, but there were things she needed. So, Faith continued to meander.

Earlier that morning, she had gone to bid farewell to Pash and Kali. To tell them of the pregnancy which they had told almost no one of so far. She had no intention of letting people know generally. Her skirt was a little bigger than usual, but her blouse was loose and flowing and it hid the small and neat bump more than sufficiently. There were people all around her, tying ribbons to trees, to fences, in just the way that she and Padraig would tie their hands together later this season. Symbolising that which already was, of course, but being part of their wedding.

Ribbons. Faith knew that she had all the ribbons she needed, but she was standing at the stall where she spent rather a lot of money on any given trial, fabrics and ribbons being the usual fare here, and she glanced up. There was a woman cutting a ribbon from a tree. What a strange thing to do, Faith thought. But then, maybe she'd tied it and then realised that she'd done something wrong, or maybe it was a tradition.

Whatever it was, it was none of Faith's business.

So, she turned back to the stall owner. "Yes, please," she said, softly. "I would like, in an ideal world, to be able to layer a number of pieces of ribbon one on top of the other. So the same width and length would be ideal?" Glancing again she saw the woman continuing to cut off another ribbon. Maybe she needed some kind of help, Faith thought. Glancing over, she saw that there were members of the militia nearby and watching. No, she thought, mindful of the child growing within her. She had no need to get involved and so she turned back to the ribbons and concentrated on them.
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"Common Speech"
"Xanthean Speech"


As Qit'ria cut away a second ribbon, and a third ribbon, it was clear to some of the militia that something was wrong. Selucis Icar, the highest ranking among those present, was a kind man. He was well known for trying to talk to people about their problems before just carting them off in chains. His subordinate, on the other hand, Kaesar, was a hot head. He was very aggressive, very defensive, and very traditional.

"Oi! Wench! Jus' what in immortals above ya think ya're doin?!"

The short man stomped his way over, a hand on the mace that hung from his belt, his reddening face now matching his hair. He grabbed Qit'ria by the shoulder, spinning her toward him, "What right do ya 'ave to-oomph" Qit'ria had been surprised by the hand that had gripped her shoulder, and had immediately swung a small, curled fist. It connected awkwardly to the side of Kaesar's face, and she hissed in pain, shoving him away with her good hand.

She had no way of knowing he or his compatriots were militia, but she crouched defensively, wild eyes staring at the angry ginger man. She didn't dare draw her weapon in town. She had traveled enough to know that was a death sentence for many. But she wasn't about to be manhandled and take it lying down.

Kaesar's face was an even deeper red now as he rubbed his barely injured cheek, his pride hurt more than his flesh. "Ya just struck a militia man. Ya're in for it now missy. I'm gonna enjoy tannin' your hide, gettin' that wild outta ya.." Qit'ria snarled loudly at the man, backing up slowly, her eyes dropping down to the throwing knife she'd used earlier, but had dropped when spun about. This man was threatening her, and she didn't know this word "militia" in the common tongue. To her, he was just a bully seeking to harm her. So she snarled, crouched backwards defensively, ready to bite, claw, and beat anyone that came close to her.

Kaesar just smirked as he drew his mace. It wasn't spiked, simply a smooth round ball of steel on a thick wooden handle. A good weapon for those who don't need the finesse of bladed combat. Smash and crush and break. That was Kaesar's way. A blood seeking grin adorned his face as he stepped closer to the feral woman.




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The situation continued to unfold and Faith sighed inwardly. There was the fact that she had to consider herself; her pregnancy was moving on but was still in the early stages. They had started telling people, literally, this trial. So, she had to be careful. But still, she could not stand by and allow this to happen. Yet, Faith was not a natural step-into-fights sort of person. She would run into things, there was no doubting it, if she was emotionally involved, but right now in this situation, she was emotionally invested in keeping safe the child which grew within her.

Yet still.

Faith reached into her Domain Bag and pulled out the cloak which marked her as a member of the Order of the Adunih. Across Scalvoris, these healers were respected and the cloak gave her a protection which very little else did. So, wrapping it around her, Faith stepped forward as she fastened it at her neck.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice quiet and calm. As she spoke, though, she moved to next to the Sev'ryn woman who seemed to be half asking for a fight and also about to get pounded by an over zealous militia man. Still, the sight of the cloak of the Order of the Adunih did what she had hoped it would do ~ it made him pause, not swinging his weapon further. "I am sorry to disturb you. My name is Faith, I am a.." He looked at her and he nodded his head.

"I know who you are. Medic an' you own that restaurant, too. Working at the University, aye?"

Faith smiled and nodded, sending a prayer of thanks to Famula that, with a bit of luck, she might just get away with no blood being spilled. "That's correct, yes. I also work on the Council, as the Officer for Welfare." He nodded his head and motioned to Qit'ria. "Well, that's all well an' good, but she put her hand on a militia man, an' should get the punishment fer it."

Faith looked at him and felt a flash of irritation. "You grabbed her first. I believe that you forced her to react by believing that she was being attacked." Glancing at Qit'ria, Faith asked with a slight smile, "Is that correct? You thought he was going to hurt you?"

Looking back to the militia man, once Qit'ria had answered, Faith gave him a tight smile. "I believe this is a misunderstanding. I personally would not like to have to fill in the paperwork that is my part of the report on the situation," she hoped he realised that, what she was saying was that if he pushed it, then she would do so, without hesitation. "Why don't we just let the situation be, just step away?" He didn't want to, she knew, but he was considering the situation he was in. With a grunt and a shrug he walked away, everything about him indicating just how irritated he was.

Faith, then, turned to Qit'ria and smiled. "Hello," she said with a rather relieved look on her face. "I'm Faith. May I ask, why were you cutting the ribbons? They are for good luck."
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"Common Speech"
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Qit'ria was just about to leap forward, to get the first attack in, to try and get in under the swing of the mace, and go for the neck, dig her nails in deep. Maybe get a hold of something fleshy between her teeth. But a soft, feminine voice sounded, bringing an immediate calm to the area, blowing away the tension like a refreshing breeze displacing a malevolent fog. Qit'ria glanced at the woman through harsh eyes, but even one as she recognized the cloak.

She knew it from back home, from her father and her brother. This woman was a healer, just like them. She stared at the woman, her tenseness relaxing, her guard dropping a bit, and she actually paid attention to what this woman said. Her name was Faith. And a chef too from what the man had said. She healed and cooked, just like them. Qit'ria actually smiled a bit. And just like her father and her brother, they stood up for those who needed it. And when Faith directed a question at her, Qit'ria, much calmer now, nodded.

"He grab me. Thought he robber. Cities all crime full. I fight back."

And it seemed to have worked. The man grunted and left, leaving the wild woman be. With his back turned, Qitria raised a single hand fingers spread menacingly, like a claw and made a hissing face at him. Returning back to her new found friend, and at her question, Qit'ria cocked her head quizzically, "Good luck? No is good luck strangle trees. Trees no like be tied up. Trees sacred. Only be used if need. No make joke of tree. No is right."

She shook her head. City people just didn't understand proper things. They took the wilds, nature for granted. It was infuriating. But Qit actually tried to contain her anger in the presence of Faith. Healers were the best kind of people. "You is healer? Papa and Hork'alin is healers in Desnind! They cooks too. No has restyromp like you." Qit'ria picked up her knife, and belted it, and presented her forearm for the clasp that she was raised to give in greetings to one that is respectable. Typically the other arm is passed over to the inside of the presenter's and the area just below the elbow gripped firmly. Then the parties shake arms together. "I Qit'ria. I hunter. You need help anything? You help me, I help you."



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As the disgruntled member of the militia left, the Sev'ryn woman raised her hands, hissed and made her feelings entirely known. However, she turned to Faith with a smile and it was an expression the young human returned. When Qit'ria gave her explanation of why the ribbons were wrong though, Faith looked at them and considered it for a few trill. "It isn't to strangle them," she explained. Holding up a ribbon of her own, she showed it to Qit'ria. "I have tried to put good... thoughts, good energy in here. Then, I tie it to the tree and the good energy is the trees." Faith realised how it sounded and gave a wry grin. "A superstition. But meant to show respect."

When Qit'ria said that her father and someone with an unpronounceable name were healers in Desnind, Faith smiled. "I am going to Desnind soon. My.. I am going to be married there, and pay respect to Moseke. And yes, I am a healer. And a cook." They were both things that she was very pleased to be, which was obvious from her. "Your father and.. brother?" Husband, uncle, friend, might be one of many things, Faith knew, but brother was her first guess. Qit'ria then held her hand out but not in the usual way and Faith looked at it and smiled. Nir'wei, her Sev'ryn friend, had something of a tendency to clasp her arm, so Faith tried that. "I'm not used to greeting each other like this. Is this correct?" The last thing Faith wanted to do was to offend anyone, after all.

But Qit'ria was a huntress. Faith nodded. "Well, I buy meat at the restaurant and cook it. So if you ever have any to sell, we could trade." She smiled at the thought of it, then she motioned to the market. "What are you looking to buy here, Qit'ria? I came for ribbon and fabric. What about you?" The woman must have come here for a reason, Faith thought, and the market seemed to be the most likely reason. "Have you lived on Scalvoris long?"
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Qit'ria could tell the woman was sincere in her claim to not wish to make a joke out of the trees. The huntress still thought it to be a silly tradition, but this woman was showing both respect to the trees and to what Qit thought about it. And as the woman continued, Qit's eyes grew wide at the mention of a journey to Desnind. Qit shook her head excitedly, stepping closer to the woman, "Yes, Papa, brother. They give pray to Moseke all mornings. You meet them! Tell them I..." she stopped. Her face grew stoic, "They cook for you. Good men."

When Faith offered her arm in the traditional Sev'ryn manner, Qit's face lit up once more, the mercurial visage always belying the woman's emotions with pure honesty. She clasped the offered arm firmly, allowing her own to be equally clasped. During this exchange, Qit stared Faith intensely in the eyes, truly getting a measure on the healer. She let the stare linger for a few trills, before broadening her grin, "Yes, is correct."

At the woman's offer, as well as her follow up questions, Qit'ria reached behind her, removing the bundle that sat where a rucksack might be found from her pack. She held it up, "Sell skins. Flop ear, half rain, red tree rat." She beamed, proud of her skins, which weren't particularly special, nor would they fetch a good price. But she always took pride in her work. And Scalvoris Town was the first town since she left home that Qit'ria genuinely tried to become a part of the society. Not completely, but enough that her name and face could be known. While she didn't enjoy being in any city, this one seemed just a bit nicer. A bit less hostile, a bit less filthy, a bit less crowded.

"I come here Ymiden. Wilds wandering, seek soul mate. I miss home, Papa. But must do."

In a surprising turn for the woman, she decided that if she were going to try and be a part of this town, this city, perhaps Faith would be a good cornerstone to start with. She was nice, helpful, and willing to bare her teeth, the most important aspect. "I not know town good. I live in wilds. No come in without skin." Then she remembered that wasn't exactly true, her face showing the sudden remembering, "I do come for food festival. Not many day back, I go one, many many food. I make flop ear soup. No one like." She shrugged, as if to suggest she wasn't surprised. After all, back home, the men in her family were the cooks.

"Can join you? No know town well. Can pay." Qit'ria reached for her coin purse, knowing it was common in cities to have to pay for everything. She didn't mind, she barely ever used money anyways, so typically she had excess, for her.
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The juxtaposition between Qit'ria's face before she realised what she was saying and then as she considered it was enormous. Faith watched her and did not question her, did not ask. There was a thin line between being supportive of someone and being intrusive, so she smiled and nodded. "If you would like to pass on a message, or a gift from you to them, I will do so if I can." There was no doubting that she would, the earnest young woman understood family in a very strange and unusual way, but she understood and respected it deeply. Qit'ria probably missed her family, Faith thought, or maybe she didn't but either way, it was enough that the woman felt that connection and so, Faith had to offer.

She spoke then about seeking her soul mate, missing her father but needing to find the soul mate. Was that her familiar, Faith wondered? Nir'wei had a familiar, she knew, as did Kura. It was very much a Sev'ryn thing and she smiled slightly and nodded. "The other half of your soul?" That was how she had heard Sev'ryn familiar's described and Faith wondered if that was how it was.

"I am very impressed by skins, I can't hunt, and I feel like I should learn," she admitted, when Qit'ria showed her the skins. "I cook, I grow the vegetables, but I can not hunt the meat. I should." She smiled slightly and she would have said more, but then QIt'ria explained that she had been here for the Food Festival and Faith realised something. "You met Padraig?" He had come home and told her about a woman he met, she had come in to the town for the festival and had made rabbit stew. Flop ear stew, she supposed. Faith smiled and gestured to herself. "He is my.. well, we are going to Desnind to be married. He is, will be, my husband. I am his, in my heart."

When Qit'ria said she didn't know the city well, though, Faith felt a surge of compassion for the woman. She looked at her and nodded. "I would be very happy to spend time together. There is no need for payment, it would be nice to make a new friend. Perhaps, you could teach me some of the Sev'ryn language, for when I visit there? I would like to learn," Faith was entirely genuine, that made sense to her. "And maybe, in return, I can help with the stew? You tell me what you did, I could help make it taste better? If you wanted it to." Either way, she was more than happy to walk with Qit, to see the stalls together and maybe, she thought, to make a friend.
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Qit'ria smiled, but it was a false one, with saddened eyes. She wanted nothing more to send a message to her father and brother. It'd been so long. But she couldn't do that to them. Part of her wondered if it might be better for them to think her dead. She didn't really have the means to pull of such a deception, nor the stomach. There were some lines you never crossed, and breaking someone's heart further was one of those. She knew her papa still loved her, and always would. But she didn't deserve it. And her brother, well, he was probably angry with her. He was abroad studying healing when she left.

"No message. You should meet. Papa much nice. He called Flek'ack. Brother called Hork'alin. Ask at medicine house."

Smiling a bit more genuinely now at the mention of her familiar, "Yes. Um... Common word is.. Flambibular. Soul mate. I seek many arc. No go home before find." That was just an excuse. Even after she would find her familiar, there'd be another excuse, then another. But as Faith expressed her consideration at hunting, at how she could cook and grow food, Qit'ria shook her head, not realizing she was doing it in the same teasing manner her mother would do to her when she'd ask something.

"Hunting not..," she tried to think of the right word, "Not half-do. Hunting is... life work. Do all way, or not do. Half hunters hurt wild lands. Half hunters get kill. You healer. No half-heal hurt people, yes? Is same." Her mother had smacked her in the face when she said she was play hunting. Qit'ria was only four arcs then. She didn't understand why until several arcs later. "I no grow good. Brown thumb papa say. World need hunter and grower. Make balance."

Her eyes grew wide, in a pleasant way, at the mention of Padraig, and of her upcoming marriage to him. Padraig was a nice man. He helped her out of a bind at the food festival and was pleasing company, a rarity for someone like Qit'ria. Not many had the patience to try and learn more about her, let alone help her. It must be why the pair were together. Faith had helped her too. Nodding, "He help me make ready for food festival. Nice man. You and Paddyrags make pretty, fat babies, yes? I know it."

And in response to Faith's acceptance of Qit'ria offer to go about town together, the woman simply grabbed the healer by the hand, gently, a smile upon her face. She then led her over to the first stall. Well, dragged her over. It was a man selling various types of wintry garb as Zi'da was right around the corner, complete with a wide selection of furs.

He smiled brightly as only a merchant seeing a potential sale could, "Why hello there Ms. Faith, looking as well as ever. Who might your friend be? She looks like she could use some warmer clothes for the cold times coming soon."

Qit ignored the man, since he apparently knew Faith already and only seemed to speak to her. She pointed at a light jacket he had laid out. "Kōwhiringa pẹlu." She repeated it slowly, syllable by syllable for her. Then she pointed at a thicker coat, "Syatẹle." Finally she pointed at the very thick gambeson, a garment both for keeping warm and serving as light armor, "Äwọndäuä."

Looking at Faith now, "Say and point," she commanded. Qit'ria repeated herself as much as was needed until Faith was able to pronounce them. "I put flop ear meat, guts, veggy tables, spice in water. Boil lots and lots and lots. Is how make soup."
Translations
äwọndäuä = äwọnọnä däuä = thick skin = gambeson (heavy padded jacket)

kōwhiringa pẹlu = chill stop = jacket

syatẹle = syayvi Atẹle = no freeze = coat
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Faith understood people and she knew that Qit'ria's smile was not a genuine one. She had seen a lot of people smile bravely as a doctor and she recognised it now. However, Faith was not someone who would pry or force questions on someone. So, she did not push, simply repeated the names and a promise. "Fleck'ack and Hork'alin. I will find them in Desnind." She confirmed that she was seeking her "flambibular" and Faith nodded. "I believe it can take many, many arcs to find?" She thought it must be an awfully lonely thing but then, she wondered, maybe it was like Padraig and her. She hadn't known that she was incomplete without him. Maybe that was how it was with Sev'ryn. But then, she could not know and so she turned her attention back to Qit'ria.

Qit'ria's description of the hunter made perfect sense to Faith and she nodded. "I see. Yes. Half-healers are very dangerous." She didn't grow things? Faith smiled and nodded. She enjoyed growing things, especially things which she could cook and use in her healing work. It was all one thing to Faith, cooking, healing, growing, even sewing. It was caring for people and that was what she did. In many ways, she thought, it was what she had been born to do. To care for people. For a long time she had mistaken it as being born to be a slave, but she knew differently these trials.

When Qit'ria exclaimed that she knew him and then called him Paddyrags Faith beamed. It was rare that, in the battle of the sexes, one was handed such potent ammunition for free. "He is a good man, yes. And, well, I hope so." she put her hand down on her stomach and smiled. "we'll see soon." When she held her blouse against her stomach, the small and neat bump was evident, but only just. "Still very new, but we are telling people now." This trial, in fact. When they'd got engaged, Padraig had teased Faith that the whole of Scalvoris knew. She had wanted to tell everyone that, it was true. This? She could shout it, yell it from the rooftops.

Yet she couldn't help but smile and go with Qit as they made their way to the stall. "Hello. How are you?" Faith said to the man and chatted for a moment, then she tried to speak the words Qit'ria was showing her. She pointed, to each of the items. "Kōwhiringa pẹlu, Syatẹle and... Äwọndäuä?" Then she listened to the recipe, such as it was. "Hmm. Put the spices on the meat, rub them on, then put them on a skewer" she made the motion with her hands, as she explained, "over a flame. Not long, just a few words." About as long as it took to say the name of the clothes. She motioned to them. "Qit'ria, will you be warm enough? I could swap you some warm clothes for hunted animals. If you wanted to?" She wasn't going to offer charity because she rather got the feeling that Qit'ria would not like that one little bit. So, instead, she thought, an exchange - and a fair one. "I can make you clothes, with my hands. You could catch things for me to cook, with yours. Balance?"
word count: 576
Life, Death and the In-Between .
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