Welcome to Gaia! ::

“Oh…aye,” she said. “I s’pose I shouldn’t have said nothin’ — it’s those monster sort from the far shore. Comin’ in and lashin’ out at folk like they own the island.” She thumbed over the waist her shorts, shifting her weight and glancing sidelong. “Shouldn’t a one of ‘em ever came here to begin with. Isn’t their place, far as I can see it. Anyhow…gives a good reason as any to know how to handle a blade. Maybe sometime…if we happened about to meet again, we could practice together, I sure wouldn’t mind. My pa, he doesn’t so much do that sort of thing, and I don’t have no brothers. Not around to do a real sort of practicin’.”

As food tended to do, Len lost focus on the conversation the instant it was in her hands, and for at least the immediate period after, dedicated her full attention to that, and that alone. The heat, the flavor, the spices, the texture, the way it moved in her mouth. No one would see so, looking at her, but she felt personally that she appreciated every feature of her food no matter how quickly it disappeared once in her hands. After, however — or midway through what she’d gotten — she spared a glance up to her companion, and had the decency to look sheepish. Or at least vaguely so. Certainly enough so that one could pretend she looked sheepish if that helped them to forgive her behavior.

“We travel lots,” she answered around a mouthful, lifting a hand as she did, back of her wrist touching her lips to prevent loss of food—and perhaps spare the world the view, though that did not immediately occur to her. “City t’ city. Are you always ‘round this part of Pajore when ya do come ‘ere? Pa’s talked ‘bout leavin’ Yael t’ sell, too, or he used to. But hasn’t so much lately. And I real hope we don’t. Seems dangerous enough here as it is, not so sure I wanna go anyplace far that could be worse off.”

Len grunted around a mouthful, eyeing the other boy as he spoke. After, she shook her head. “Don’t feel stuck. There’s lots t’ do anyhow, already a great lot o’ places I ain’t seen and not even sure I need t’ see all those. Just gotta find a spot you like good enough an’ after that, why go elsewheres when it might be not safe? I wanna a nice spot one day an’ just stay.”

At the subject change, she squinted and then glanced out and over to the mentioned person, but in response, only shrugged noncommittally. “No. I ain’t never been near good enough for the gods t’ like me, don’t figure I could imagine what i’s like. You do?”

Len squinted, eyes narrowing as he spoke about the sanctum and—well, she supposed she knew of it, but never close to home. It had always seemed to her more like one of the stories told to scare little children, herself included, into behaving—with little success. To hear of someone whose family had actually experienced it, however…

“They really do?” she piped up, already shaking her head, reaching to bring up another bite of food and—none was left. She puffed. “Tha’s straight queer, yea, I wouldn’ go. If they’d came for me, which they wouldn’ ‘ave since I done told ya the gods don’t like me, but if they did, I’d be gone ‘fore they knew they was lookin’. Ain’t got no business bein’ told you got no family left but the gods and boxed up in a great tower like…” She glanced to the local cathedral — a towering structure, easily among the largest in the capitol. “S’pose…maybe if th’ gods do pick ‘em, tho…better’n the sea rollin’ in and swallowin’ all of us up when they’re angry like.”

Len frowned as she listened. It was, admittedly, difficult to imagine properly. She had never had parents around to look at her seriously and never had siblings of her own. The other children in the orphan house, and the matron mother, were her closest thing to ‘family’ and that was an ever-fluctuating thing—and now not anything at all, since she had been ousted from its walls. Still, it seemed a serious and sad topic, and while she could keep pace with lighter ones all day, she found it difficult to grapple with more unpleasant things. So, she let it go, listening until the subject changed, and then hooking on to that instead.

“Anythin’ ya want,” she said. “I got all day.” Her grin was broad, ending only when she popped a thumb in her mouth to begin cleaning her fingers of the food flavoring left and that, as it happened, was that. They spent some time in the streets making their own entertainment until he felt the need to return, at which point they parted ways again, leaving Len with a blessedly full belly, and a name to remember.

Jalase, the boy with the food.