Sketches

I had thought that the markers would fly along the emptiness but the end of the charcoal merely began the smudges of shadows. The doodlings of a cluttered mind finding source to expose itself. Against the fold is where they stopped hitting the crease over and over again until there was little left but a nub that needed the wrapper peeled away on the stick.

The face of Me Too came to life there, not in words or perfect imagery, simply in light and shadow until there was no doubt ... it was him. I put the diary away and rose to meet the dawn. This would be a day that the wagons did not move and this surprised me. I went to the main fires meeting the scent of sage wafting in the air. I know that fragrance and I know who it belongs to. I was right, she was sitting there tossing the herb to the flames speaking to a boy, I'd never seen before. I gave him no thought as I spoke to the woman. When she asked me what I was holding back I told her I was being quiet and following the advice of a good friend that I should have earlier. When her gaze met mine, I held it and merely gave a nod. I know I can not hide my thoughts from her. I asked if I could come see her later.

It was then I noticed the boy staring at me. I've grown defensive of the way people look at me .. that deciding in their minds who and what I am by appearance. I am not the only pair of blues .. there are warriors that have the same color as well as free women. I am not the only one with fair hair. The strongest woman I know here has blond hair. In fact she is known as the blond larl with claws. She is strong because of many events that she has lived through though she has a quality beneath it all that earned her my greatest respect ... she offered me the quality of mercy once. I do not roar as others do but I can say that I know I will have to learn how and without family, without lineage .. being different in other ways .. I am going to have to learn how to roar fiercely to continue to survive here. I know that begins with self respect. Those kitten claws unfurled to ask what the boy was looking at? I have no wish for any male to be familiar with me at the moment and would cease curiosity right at its source. I admit that regardless of his answer I was set and ready to use those talons. It was met with silence. That was good enough for me. I began speaking with the Haruspex again.

No matter how much I like the woman I found no humor in her jest that she thought I had rendered him speechless and that was perhaps a first for him. It was my feeling that he was chatty enough for one with smooth cheeks here at the fires. Little boskarse said not to let him out talk me. I doubt he could .. he has never encountered one of those long winded run on sentence slash query slash blow the hair off his chest conversations of mine. Me Too probably has more hair on his chest anyway. It is no loss to me either way.

It was the woman I spoke with before returning to the wagons. I would like to come see her later. Even as I made the plans so much of what I thought I would say to her changes, just as what I want to speak with the warrior does. With every change I feel as if I am Alice becoming tall. It is not an uncomfortable fit but it is a tight one inside my skin. What will emerge on the other side of this molt .. this shedding if you want to call it that? One of the things that I do realize is that I have claws for nothing more than the bearer of peach fuzz ... what makes me think I am woman enough to handle a full grown Tuchuk man, his arrogance, his passions for life?

More and more of what the elder had told me unfold as truths. I have grown enough to realize that there is one piece of advice more than others that I should keep for my own chest of treasures ... listen to your instincts.