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 Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 6:16 pm
The powdered turquoise vivid in her mind, the Stormborn female left the dark she called home. As women were seen as overly emotional, unstable creatures, Freyja did her best to avoid these discrepancies in her self. When at first the necklace had entered her head, she had ignored it.
After five days, when her brain still restlessly pecked a the subject, she knew it was important. The wife's strides were long, and her eyes were scanning.
Not just anyone would do, no. She had heard of a mute slave in polite conversation. A slave that kept its mouth shut was perfect. And, in that same polite conversation, she had gathered a brief description. The black and white patterns would have done her little good, but the rumor of a back injury was more than she needed to find a slave.
She said as little as possible to those who she came in contact with, but at last she found who she presumed she was looking for lapping up her fill of water from one of the fresh springs. Good. She'd need to be in working order. Freyja watched for for a long moment, eyes narrowing, muscles tensing, before her body relaxed.
"Are you Tyst." It wasn't really a question. Any slave would do.
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 6:30 pm
Tyst was getting a reputation for not having a reputation. What a wonderful dram of irony that was. She had not gone out of her to establish herself as a mute, it had simply happened. There was nothing she had to say to these wretched lions, save Captain, and no one had come up and ordered a conversation from her.
Thank the gods. They were idiots, all of them.
The females were the worst of the lot and this pretty one addressing her now she wagered was going to prove her point. You didn't get a face like that and brains.
Tyst stared at her, waiting.
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 6:38 pm
The lack of response was answer enough. Freyja tipped her head as the black and white slave stared. It was almost as if she were being judged. As there was no one to tell her not to, least of all a slave, Freyja stared right back.
Then, the silence broke. "Come with me, then."
Freyja had heard many others call them slave to their face. Freyja did not like it. It gave them a purpose, a community. They could always be with the other slaves. However, deny them even a name to group them by and they only had themselves.
As Freyja lead, an unnerving prickle moved up her spine. These uncertainties always found her in amongst the slaves that were larger, more powerful, and clearly capable of killing. Those scars were to deep to have been delved by anything other than a foolish slaver, and rumor also said Ra had captured the creature himself.
The dirt began to soften, coating her paws. Freyja stopped then, eyes scanning the blackened, rugged rocks until she recognized it. There. That was where she'd been with the Stormborn child. Strange, she did not recall an exchange of names.
"Tyst," she said finally, turning to survey those barren eyes. "You will dig here until you find something."
There was bound to be more where the necklace had come from; perhaps there would be something unbroken.
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 6:52 pm
Come with her? Fine. Tyst had no other duties that beckoned her then and there, and Captain would be busy with his fighting or -- whatever else he did. For someone who "owned" her, she knew little about him. They didn't talk much, you see.
This was the farthest out she had ever gone. At one point, she looked behind her against her better judgement, common sense, and experience. You never exposed your throat. Ever. Luckily, no harm came to her for it in the end.
The dirt was becoming mud.
Was she supposed to fish?
Or would she be assigned some impossible task like carrying water with no bucket?
Tyst was surprised to hear her name from the mouth of the beast. Dig until she found something? Tch...
Her claws had just pressed into the earth when she thought, I found some dirt, you stupid b***h. What do you expect me to find? Actions spoke louder than words, so they said. They certainly spoke louder than complaints kept in her mind.
Digging, digging, digging all to find nothing, nothing, nothing.
Screw it.
"What am I looking for?" Tyst grumbled.
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 6:58 pm
"There may be nothing here," Freyja admitted immediately. However, she was not talking directly to Tyst as she said it. Rather, the lioness had wandered her way out to another spot, peering and surveying.
There was absolutely nothing mute about this lioness. Though, talking made things more interesting. Knowing your slaves was very good business.
"Trinkets. A necklace, a bracelet. Beads, more than likely." The lioness pressed a dent into the earth.
"Try here."
Then, she moved out of the way so that the slave could get back to work. When she called them their names, they got to feel special for just a moment. It made them feel important. It was good to have a name.
When the lioness started again, Freyja watched. Then, she gave a question. "Would you kill someone if I asked, Tyst?"
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 7:14 pm
Tyst ceased her digging and trotted to the indicated spot. Tempted as she was, she resisted the impulse to shove this lioness to make room. Few things were more annoying than someone giving you work and not getting out of your way fast enough.
One of them was special alright.
Though, there were worse things she could be ordered to excavate. Having a goal was appreciated far more than hearing a name which was not hers, not really. She had asked for it and Captain had appeased her request. Out of the entire pride, Ohahira -- Tyst -- was her own worst enemy.
Things were supposed to feel different by now.
Tyst never stopped digging, but she did slow her pace for a second. That depends. Are you asking on your behalf?
"Probably not."
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 7:35 pm
"Hm."
Freyja must have been satisfied by the answer, for she did not ask another. Or perhaps she was so dissatisfied that she had given up on the subject entirely.
Instead, she watched, her tail hitting against the earth. Eventually, it equalled in time to Tyst's paced digging.
Smack. smack. Scratch. scratch.
When the second area, too, refused to pull up anything of value, Freyja abandoned the area without so much as a second glance.
"Shame," were her only words. The lioness pattered down to the where the ocean lapped at the protective cove instead. "Help me carry this driftwood, then."
It was not too large, but it tipped in her jaw and was near impossible to move. She liked the look of it, and wanted it to line the small pathway up to their home. If nothing else, it would be there to make Fira angry every time the snake spied it. Even when Freyja was absent, the creature could be reminded of her.
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 7:46 pm
Tyst would see a replay of this as she slept that night. In the dream, her back would be free of scars and pain. Her paws would be strong like when she was young, and with them she'd push this female's face into the water and hold it there until she drowned. Maybe she'd drown herself afterwards. Why not?
Tyst looked in disgust at the ocean. She hated the sea and everything in it, driftwood included. She didn't ask nor care why Freyja wanted something like this.
Her teeth had sustained some damage in her Firekin days. All the cracks and breaks showed when she opened her jaws to pick up her side. But they clamped down effectively enough to carry things (or rip flesh), so the lioness ordering this had no reason to complain.
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 7:54 pm
Together, or more actually as two separate individuals, they carried the piece of driftwood back to where Freyja made her home.
She ordered it be dropped, and made Tyst aid her in rolling it into position. The Stormborn climbed onto a higher vantage point and looked at it, crawled down, and examined it from one much lower.
Tyst had to adjust one end.
"That is acceptable."
"I will tell the provisioner to give Tyst an extra helping of meat tonight." If this lioness' name was in fact Tyst at all. "You may go."
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 8:05 pm
The taste was far more troublesome than the weight. It was dirty and salty like sea water. What good would extra meat do if this was trapped in her mouth and nose? Tyst did not thank her for the reward.
"So glad to be of help," she grumbled instead.
And she did go, but on her way, she wondered who she'd have been asked to murder had she said yes.
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