The next morning Haaji was on duty cultivating one of the few non-native crops that his village harvested (he was glad that the herb needed shade, as his sensitive, pale eyes and skin burned when he strayed out into the bright sun for too long), when he was visited yet again by the angel of fire from the previous night. She sat at the edge of the small field for a long moment, simply watching him work, then stepped carefully forward, picking her way through the delicate herbs.      He said nothing, but kept an ear turned in her direction as a sign that he acknowledged her presence as she drew near.      "Mi'tanu, Haaji'hashmel," she said in semiformal tones, and he turned his head towards her, both ears perked.      "Mai'tsanau, Cliija'shhrali." His reply was more heavily tinted with formality, and it made her laugh, which in turn made him confused. Why did girls have to make so little sense?      Cliija switched to mental speech once the formalities were over, since really, they'd only just met last night and only friends and siblings began speaking directly mind to mind. How did you sleep? Well, I hope, she said, and he nodded. In fact, he'd slept better last night than he had for quite a while. He thought it may have been the exhaustion from all the social activity of the day previous. She smiled and bobbed her head. Good. I wouldn't want to have caused you any bad dreams.      That last comment startled him slightly, but he showed no sign of it, instead, he smiled and replied that he could not have had any dreams at all with all the exercise she'd put him through yesterday and was pleased when she laughed at the intended teasing. She couldn't have known about his nightmares, could she? It must have been a coincidence.      What do you do today? she asked after a short while of silence and watching him work.      Haaji explained that this herb needed to be tended and watched closely because it was not native here, and the insects loved it above all other plant life in the area. It's a medicinal herb, he explained, we use it when the kittens become ill in their third or fourth summer. It helps adults as well, but the kittens it cures entirely. It is a lifesaver, and one which the tribe won't give up without a fight. He remembered where and how this particular herb was discovered, and amended to himself, 'I won't give it up without a fight.      She nodded and continued to watch him work, moving off a ways so she could lay down and stretch out without endangering the delicate foliage Haaji worked with. He was very confused. Wasn't she interested in flirting with the other boys in the tribe, rather than sitting here watching him check leaves and transplant the occasional sproutling? Maybe her chosen male was away hunting and she had nothing better to do, he thought. That must be it.      When he straightened and looked around after checking the last plant in the final row, she still sat there at the edge of the field, though the sun had moved and was now directly on her, shining off the beautiful reds and golds of her fur.      Are you finished here? Her mindvoice was somewhat sleepy, as though the sun had nearly knocked her out as she basked in it's rays, though it still held a spark of some emotion Haaji couldn't quite identify. When he nodded, she smiled broadly and stood, stretching her wings and arms and legs and tail. Good, she said with some satisfaction, and delicately moved through the herbs towards him. I don't suppose you'd like to accompany me in a short flight to stretch my wings, would you? Maybe you can show me around the area while we're out. As she spoke, she spread her wings as though to suggest that, in her waiting for him to finish his task, they had become terribly cramped and disused.      Haaji smiled slightly and nodded, then led the way into the open plain just beyond their village where generations of sira had learned to fly, and just as many had been bound together in the ceremony of Jüsharya'Nuulorky. He stretched his own wings as she did, and both took to the air gracefully. They circled for a long while, gaining altitude and enjoying the push of warm air beneath their wings.      As they relaxed into the gentle pattern of wingbeats and soaring, Cliija spoke to him mentally. You are not like the others of your tribe, she said, an he snorted, half in amusement half in faint irritation. I do not mean your physical appearance, she continued hastily, sensing his mood, rather, your attitude, your personality. Whatever it is that makes you you that has nothing to do with your fur color.      He considered that for a moment, then shrugged mentally. For the most part, it had been his fur color that had actually made him the way he was. But she continued and he listened.      For one, you speak so seldom, and when you do, I can almost feel the cynicism in your mental touch, as though you had long since given up on the possibility of making conversation work. That gave him something to think about, though really, he had to agree; he had given up on conversation with others of his own kind long ago.      She continued, taking his silence to be agreement, which it sort of was. You do not vie for attention, as the other boys do. Could it be because you are not interested in sira of the female persuasion? she teased, then laughed aloud at his fervent denial of that possibility. Well then, it must be because you do not believe that any attention you are allotted is of a kind that you desire. That, too, made him think, and in the end, agree. As a kitten, he was bullied, so he tried to disappear into the background. As an adult, he had decided to just stay out of things that weren't his business directly, achieving the same end.      Before she could speak again, he interrupted, trying to dissuade her probing, and all to accurate, observations. You seem to read me like a book. A book with illustrations, no less. However, you remain a mystery to me. Why do you care so much for the reasons behind why I am different? Why do you notice at all? De didn't say what he really wanted to, because he thought it might make her angry with him, and, though he didn't exactly have a firm feeling of what a friend is and that he wanted one, he didn't want to lose her apparently high opinion of him. He wondered why she would even look at the pitiful outcast of the tribe, rather than doing what the others of her family did and wading out among the sea of eager young boys, basking in their attention and eventually settling down with one.      She smiled and circled closer to him so that he could see her expression well, which was one of sheer delight. Ah, but that is the one question all males would ask, isn't it? Cliija laughed, both aloud and mentally, and did a short aerial dance around and under Haaji, to which he answered with a similar move, putting him at her side as they soared above the canopy far below.      As for the mysterious part, have you ever known a magician to reveal their tricks? If I know you because I can read, why don't you learn how to read as well? Then maybe you'll know me.      That was not exactly what he had been looking for when he asked, but if that was all he was going to get, and he rather thought it was, then he'd have to take it and run. He seemed to remember overhearing something about females from the other boys. Something about the information the chose to give you without question, and the information that they guard so instinctively and closely that strict interrogation wouldn't reveal it. Apparently, this was one of those times. Back | Next