Avishraa Reloaded

There was a vague sense of time passing, somewhere outside his head. Sometimes of being moved, of voices. Once or twice, it seemed to him that he was roused just enough to drink water or broth, but he could remember nothing afterward but the bare fact of it.

When at last he surfaced again into consciousness, the first sensation, before vision or even sound, was pain at the end of his tail. It was nothing at all like the pain of Ynudh's powers being used on it, either in quality or intensity, but it was there, a kind of heat, as if he had recently been burned. As if this were not enough, the rest of his body ached as well, though it was extremely minor by comparison.

He became aware of other things. The sound of water, or at least liquid, boiling. Some kind of intensly herbal smell, or more likely some confused mix of different herbal smells. Someone moving around nearby, and others talking in the distance, in some tongue that he did not recognize. It felt like he had been laid on some kind of pallet stuffed with leaves and moss.

Then hands were laid on him. They were not rough in their work, but they were businesslike; they felt the side of his neck, the base of his antenna, his chest. With somewhat more care, they explored the area around the end of his tail.

When he opened an eye, he observed that he was in some kind of tent. The person examining him was a woman of his own kind; she was a very dark brown, covered in small, tapered golden markings. He'd never seen her before.

There was a strange dizziness in his head. He was unsure whether it was physiological or some kind of after-effect of the strange vision. The straight-forward disorientation and pain weren't helping. He let his vision scan through the room, trying to understand enough of his environment to at least guess when he was and maybe even where, in broad strokes, relative to where he last remembered being.

The woman turned back to his face, saw that his eyes were open and at least somewhat focused, and spoke a few words. Her expression was professional, but she sounded relieved and pleased. She glanced off to one side, said something else with a gesture indicating that she would be back momentarily, and then left.

Looking in that direction, he saw the entrance of the tent. He couldn't make out much beyond it, but the flickering light suggested that it was night and that there was a fire going not far outside. The smell of the air was not dissimilar to that of the area where he and the others had been before, but cooler and damper and tinged with a strange but not unpleasant resinous scent.

A certain amount of effort resulted in the vague recollection that Tikke had pointed out, high up on a spur of the hills, the location of a xtauh encampment to which the others had tried flying; possibly this was it.

The woman returned, carrying a bowl of something that smelled like food - it made An-uxhwi realize that he was also fammished - how long had it been since he'd really eaten - and trailed by Unitti, who seemed to be under a certain amount of stress, but who smiled on seeing An-uxhwi awake. “Friend An-uxhwi, how you feeling?”

His own expression brightened at seeing the familiar face, although he made no secret of the confusion he felt at Unitti's stressed state - not that they didn't all have shared experiences that would be enough to explain all manners of stress, but this seemed unique to Unitti in the very moment.

“Alive,” he answered, letting his tone convey the complexity of meaning for him: It was more than he had perhaps expected. It was all he could say in polite company. It was a state that promised a future to him. “But what about you?” he asked, willing his pain away for long enough to make space for his sincere concern.

It let in another concern that he'd been hoping to stave off, and he found it difficult to suppress it, so he didn't: “And, do you know - is Evrith all right?” A glance leapt to the bowl, lingering a little more than was polite to look away from Unitti, guided by the ravenous hunger that roiled in his gut. A tinge of shame touched him, then rippled into a firm tension as he kept himself politely still - no tearing the bowl from his benefactor's hands, no side-lining Unitti. He clearly owed these people his life - another debt, then, equally gladly taken - and being polite was the absolute least he could do for now.

The pallet on which he lay was on the ground, so when the woman set the bowl just beyond its edge, it was in easy reach. Before Unitti could answer, she said something to An-uxhwi with a certain amount of sternness. Unitti, who looked even more uncomfortable after An-uxhwi had asked his questions, sighed lightly.

“This Hyd'natt,” he introduced her, or so An-uxhwi interpreted the name; some of the sounds used were unfamiliar to him. “She say to eat now, talk later - you need strength. But Evrith is… er, in book right now. She scratched up. Shyriath trying to sew up. Tikke and I, we not hurt, but we have… tough discussion with tribe here.”