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 Posted: Tue Nov 11, 2014 11:31 am
As Hijil brushed her fine white hair out one night on the shore, the side of her head newly re-shorn, she was reminded suddenly – by something in the air she could not describe – of the first time she had worn her hair as a braid to the side.
It had become so to wear it that way, a habit that her hands followed almost blindly whenever she re-did her braid. It had, in a way, become a part of her identity, the side braid that, by virtue of experience in doing it up just right, never fell in her face or interfered with her eyes. Tied, as it was, with an old string, it had become the most familiar part of her reflection in still water, more so even than the crystals that dotted her face. Her hair, in a meaningful way, was her: practical in it's simplicity, incomplete in its coverage – or lack therof – of her head, yet longing to be something more.
She put her brush down and, automatic as ever, began the complexities of her braid before pausing, thinking – for the first time in years – about what she was doing. It was the same – the same as her mother had done for her, the same as Bhima had done for her, an echo of things gone by.
What of now, she wondered. She was a different woman than back then, no longer did she have Bhima or her mother to help her. The first realization was met with a pang of sorrow, the second with surprised regret. In the end though, the feelings did not matter – the point was clear.
It was time to try doing her hair her own way.
She took a vine from the forest, a slim thing with delicate leaves, and began to thread it into her braid, trimming it when it's job was done. In the still tidepool water, she looked at her reflection, and smiled.
Staring back at her was Hijil, herself, a woman who she could trust, a woman who had survived. Pleased, she returned home, thoughts of the past and the future crowding her head.
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Posted: Tue Nov 11, 2014 11:40 am
A Thousand Victories – Meta ch 6
220 - words The moonlight of the night of the battle was wan – it was the last stage of a waning crescent and the next night would see the new moon in all of it's darkness – but to Hijil the whole world was aglow. If she were more worldly, perhaps she would have recognized what she was feeling as cliché, but being uncultured and wild, she felt this ectasy with innocence.
Three words, three small words, had summoned up all the lively energy she had thought forever lost to time and hardship. Those words meant the world to her, a world she had only barely experienced. They were hope. They were life. They were an eternity of silence and noise.
I love you Bhima had said to her, and she had invoked those same words back amidst the turmoil of battle, and they had come through as if by magic.
Hijil was ignorant of any foolishness her thoughts might imply. She only knew that, now, in the aftermath of the battle, she felt truly alive and real and hopeful – completely hopeful – about the future.
But with hope came, oddly, uncertainty. Where would she go from here? What would she do? She swallowed her fear with water, waiting for Bhima to return. They needed to talk about so many things...
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Posted: Sat Dec 20, 2014 9:30 am
Hijil walked like a woman half-asleep through the woods, the voices of her companions fading into the sounds of the forest. She had not been expecting this kind of night when she had gone to bed that morning, she could never have expected to wake up to find her goal literally near at hand. They were heading East and South, the opposite of where she had intended to go, and there she was, Bhima. There. In person.
With every step, she half expected to wake up, perhaps a few days after she was supposed to, with a raging fever and a ravenous hunger. Or, maybe, to not wake up at all: the hallucinations of a dying woman were not impossible. Or, even, of a dead woman, though Hijil had no idea whether Serin or the Zenan goddess or whoever and whatever was responsible for death and the hereafter would do such a thing. If it was a ruse to set her spirit to rest, would not making her think that she had taken her journey be better? This only brought up more questions and panic and emotions: not peace.
She was wholly unprepared and wasn't sure what to make of the whole thing. Was it a good thing that Bhima had found her? A bad thing? Not a thing at all? Her soul roiled and, even as Shandi's energized chattering reached her ears, Hijil felt tired. Very tired. She wanted to take a moment and breathe and figure out the confusion around her, but they had to keep going and take Shandi home. That had to happen before anything else.
Even before she woke up.
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Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2014 8:41 am
It was hard not to think about the little wind girl as Hijil gathered together the supplies she would need for her big journey. The girl, like Hijil, was parentless and alone. Unlike Hijil, though, the girl had hope for a life and a family. The girl had hope. Hijil hadn't had much hope at that age, and later, she'd had no hope at all. Life had become survival, and hope had fallen by the wayside.
Now, though, Hijil too had hoped, though she dared not acknowledge it. It was truly daring to think that she could find Bhima after all these years, that she could have a future with the Alkidike, that she would not be turned away and hated.
The shifter wondered what had become of that girl... but she didn't think she would find out. For now, she hoped that the girl was safe and happy. That hope, she could dare to have.
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2015 10:19 pm
Hijil could hardly wait to return to Bhima's side. She supposed she must be clingy, but was that so bad? So many years apart, and barely a few months together. The magic of it all didn't just fade – it grew. From the moment Bhima had said as much with her words and her actions that night in the inn, and again from when Hijil had said the words she truly believed in there on the battlefield, it had grown.
Hijil was happy.
Hijil was forgiven.
Hijil was loved.
Things could only get better from here.
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Posted: Thu Apr 02, 2015 8:21 am
Hijil had nearly fallen asleep herself with the child in her arms, exhausted herself by the upsetting night of the robbery. Back in the home she and Bhima had made together, she found it almost difficult to believe that such a chaotic event had happened at all. It all seemed so abrupt and bizzarre – that thieves should sneak in and disturb such a peaceful, unsuspecting scene.
And it had been peaceful. Her, Bhima, the child, all enjoying their dinner together. As if they were a family. It had felt so right, so exactly right in that way that she sometimes felt. Once reserved for the moments with Bhima long ago, Hijil had since felt that beautiful sense of perfection in other places; when she had tended to Xilarn's injuries long ago, and again on the clear and spacious sunrises and sunsets that the coast sometimes granted to those fortunate enough to survive its storms.
Bhima's return – or rather, their reuniting – showed that Bhima still had that power. Yet now, as Hijil watched the lightening dusk of the forest around her through the window in their sturdy home, she felt somehow bereft of it, though Bhima was near at hand. Something was missing, something that Hijil longed for but was beyond her capacity to provide.
Could it be...
A child?
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Posted: Sun Apr 19, 2015 12:06 pm
Hijil had woken up next to Bhima for a few days now. This time, though, as she looked over the woman who had worked so hard to find her and the kinfa chicks chirped sleepily in the background, she was struck by the strange familiarity of their little group. Two women, two birds... somehow, it felt right.
It had not felt so when she had lived alone in the jungle, and life with her mother had never been quite wholesome or complete. But this, here and now, felt like all the pieces of her life had finally come together. They fit together, like the pieces of a wonderful and surprising puzzle.
Hijil gazed at Bhima with wonderment, awed at her realization:
For the first time ever, she had a family.
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2015 1:50 pm
Life and LoveClass Quest - 220 words-
They were going to start a family. Only in her fantasies had Hijil dared to consider children. She had thought it an odd desire, impossible and perhaps unwelcome to her lover. But now she knew that was false: Bhima wanted a family, too. The fantasy of little children – maybe with her eyes and Bhima's face, or her skin and Bhima's hair, or some combination she could never hope to dream of – was no longer an impossibility.
They would not be kicked out of their home soon, so they had time to prepare and talk and ready themselves. They did need to talk about children, about the preparations, about all the things that parents needed to think about – things that might not have crossed her own mother's mind. Names and space and friends and food – all of the essentials that Hijil had never had, not completely. Her children would be fat and happy and loved, and she wanted to be ready to give that to them. She and Bhima.
And then there was the talk of impending war and strife. Should they wait, or should they bring them forth now? Hijil could think of reasons for each option.
But the door was finally open for them to talk, and Hijil could only imagine a beautiful future ahead.
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2015 2:55 pm
Home Alone
801 - words-
Hijil knew that she should be used to being without Bhima by now. After all, Hijil had been alone for most of her life, surviving in the fickle jungle – at once provider and destroyer – by her wits and by sheer luck. Even with Bhima returned to her life, she often went into the town to buy supplies and visit friends and family, and Hijil was sometimes alone for a few days at a time.
Those trips weren't so bad – in fact, they were almost a relief, just as resting was a relief after a long, strenuous, and satisfying session of training or hunting. The loneliness only set in after a few days, and even that was mollified by the knowledge that Bhima would be home soon, and would very likely bring something extra to make up for the time. By then, Hijil would have something extra of her own to offer. It all worked out.
This trip felt different. Though this was only the first day of Bhima's trip and she had a long way to go before she was done, Hijil was restless and uneasy. Their parting had been full of hope, love, and promises, but there was fear in their situation, too. Anger had been building in the Alkidike town, rumors and threats reaching even Hijil's elusive ears. Bhima was capable of taking care of herself and more, and so Hijil was sure that things would be fine at the festival. But that didn't mean that she could sit still. The hope was too great, the anxiety it spawned too much.
To think that Bhima would actually be going to Aisha, that she would be pleading for children, to think that there was a chance that Bhima would come home soon with their children snuggled in her arms... Hijil still didn't believe it was possible, in a way that was born of wonder instead of skepticism. Every time she imagined their children, and the possibilities that surrounded them, Hijil couldn't help but smile.
But it also kept her from being calm. She knew, at least, how to put her energy to good use: That day, Hijil set out to be industrious, focusing on her everyday chores, on the many things she had to do between dawn and afternoon, after her nap, and the many things she would do at night after she slept through the worst of the day's heat.
She cared for the kinfa, feeding and taking them outside to exercise their wings and play. She cleaned the house, sweeping away the extra leaves and spore-dust that accrued in their wooden eaves. She gathered fruit and edibles from the surrounding jungle, preparing some of them to ferment and preserve and feeding herself on others. She set and checked her snares, and inspected her hidden avenues in the trees, making sure rot and growth had not changed them too much.
But the greatest distraction, however, was the renovations she hoped to make on their home. So, throughout the day, Hijil gathered materials and figured out her amateur plans for construction, trying to think about how to expand their home.
Rope bridges and new rooms were her main concern – she wanted to keep it in the trees, for the most part, where she knew they would be safe from animals and raiders alike.
Hijil had built a house before, out by the ocean's shore where the jungle met beach and stone. She missed it sometimes, as well as the ready availability of salt and fish, but she knew that Bhima wanted to be closer to her mother. Hijil had agreed to move here because she knew that despite the lack of fish and the lack of a view, living with Bhima would make up for it. So, Hijil knew how to build. She would not build it perfectly, but she would build it well enough that when Bhima came to see it, bearing their children, it would be perfect for them. All of them.
But this would be a challenge – it would be bigger than anything she had ever attempted, certainly bigger than anything she had attempted alone, and it would have to be as safe and sturdy as she could make it. For that, she needed good dry wood, broad leaves, and thick, strong grass for rope. She knew she would probably need other things, but hopefully not for a while, when her courage and confidence had been bolstered by hard work and her need to speak to someone had drove her out of her hiding and into the town.
But that would not be for a while, and Bhima would not be back for a while, and so Hijil would just have to work hard in the meantime, preparing and collecting, until then.
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2015 4:39 pm
Atipi and Ath
894 - words-
“Peep! Peep! Peep!” Hijil stirred, her dreams churning into formless grey mush in the evening's blessed cool. There was a reason she slept through the day, when the heat filtered through the canopy and caused the jungle to engulf itself into a steamy, impenetrably murky haze.
“Peep! Peep! Peep!” She cringed, trying to hold onto her last vestiges of rest. She'd worked hard all morning, and the night before, and the morning before that, and she could already feel the ache in her muscles.
“Peep! Peep... EEEEP!” She opened her eyes and shoved away a feathered face from it's vantage point at her ear. “All right.” she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, “All right, I'm awake!”
The kinfa made a disapproving sound – clearly, in Atipi's opinion, Hijil should have been awake hours ago. Ath was not so vocal.
“Oi!” Hijil protested, moving her hand away from the sharp little – or not so little, at this point – beak. “None of that, now! I'm getting up!”
She rose ponderously to her feet, the kinfa shrieking impatiently as she displaced them from their spaces, and headed towards where she kept their food. They flapped and fluttered, following her so closely that, when she stopped to grab the bag, they ran into her legs with two soft, warm, feathered thuds.
Immediately, they began squabbling amongst themselves. They were siblings, prone to arguing amongst themselves, and Hijil wondered what it was about this time. Over their portion of food? Over who did what to wake her up? Or were they simply annoyed with having collided into each other?
She brought down the bag of seeds, and immediately the argument ended, replaced by hungry and insistent shrieks that grew in intensity as she put her hands in to scoop out a portion into their bowls. “Here you go, my darlings.” Hijil said, adoringly, as they set into their meal, feathers flying as they gorged themselves. “And next time, try to be more polite.”
~~~
Hijil adored the kinfa. They were her only company when Bhima was away, especially since Bhima hadn't taken Atipi with her to the festival. Hijil had few friends, and none of them were nearby that she knew of, so they ended up being the only living things that Hijil talked to. It was good to talk to them – it kept her voice from corroding as it once had, and it kept her sane. Without them, she would have passed the days in silence.
She loved them, and fed them, and she was very proud of them. She did wish, though, that they would give her – just a peep – of avian gratitude for the effort she put into them. She bathed them, combed their feathers, trimmed their talons, and collected food for them from around the jungle – grubs, fruit, seeds, nuts; whatever she could find to feed their growing appetites. She also played and trained with them – the hope was that, when they were grown, they could assist her and Bhima as more than just companions. But, though intelligent, the kinfa were unruly and willful, and Hijil didn't want to upset her little dears. So, she supposed she spoiled them a little bit, letting them get away with more than she probably should.
And so, instead of gratitude, they demanded. Instead of assisting, they hindered. Hijil hoped that it was just a phase, that this was normal for kinfa. She wasn't sure if, when they grew up, she wanted to be pecked by a massive bird big enough to carry her.
~~~
After feeding the birds, Hijil took the Kinfa outside for training. They liked outside, so getting them out into the open meadow was easy enough. Getting them to test their wings was easy too – they were naturally inclined to want to fly. It was battle training and more mundane training that was the problem. When the kinfa didn't want to do something, they wouldn't do it, and they would show their displeasure by shrieking and pecking and making a fuss. Progress was made, bit by bit, on some of the training, but they would have none of most of what she wanted them to know.
Still, despite the pecking and birdish insolence, Hijil pressed on. It was something to do, a distraction from Bhima's absence. Hopefully, on her return, Bhima would help her with the training. She was better with the kinfa than Hijil was, and they respected her more. But, in the meantime, Hijil would not let the work that Bhima had already done fall to the wayside.
~~~
Finally, it was bedtime for the little birds. Energetic as they were in the beginning of their 'day', they were the opposite at the end of it: sleeping, they were peaceful, nuzzled into each other's feathers and cooing softly as they snored.
They were beautiful to look at, and Hijil couldn't help but smile at them as they slept. She owed it to do the best job she could in raising them, and for that she wouldn't give up. Even when they pecked her. Even when they raided her food stores. Even when they broke her materials and attempted to eat her hair. Even when they shrieked at her in defiance.
Even then, she wouldn't give up on them. Never-ever.
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2015 5:04 pm
A Sleepless Night
873 - words-
Hijil lay, fully awake, even though she should only just be awakening. Her skin shifted softly to black as dawn graced the sun-hungry canopy above her and she rolled to the side to stare at the space beside her on the sleeping map, painfully empty as it had been for a few nights now. It was this absence which kept her from sleeping, this lack of a very familiar warmth amidst Jahuar's general heat.
Bhima had been away for nearly a week, now, possibly longer, and Hijil longed for her return. Hijil had stopped counting the days – it was not in her nature, and she'd never liked to do that for anything. Time, she felt, was best as an amorphous entity, extending both too long and too short. Hijil didn't want to feel anxious about the time or rushed – she wanted to just live, and let the events, good and bad, come as they may.
But surely, surely, Bhima should have come back by now. The festival of the Alkidikes should not have taken more than a few days, allowing for travel, and acquiring the lotuses surely would not have taken her so long. And, if they had, Hijil knew that she would come home to tell her the good news or sent a young messenger to do it – someone fresh and innocent who would not be unkind to a Shifter. And yet, Bhima remained away and Hijil had heard nothing.
Hijil tried not to worry – she was sure that there were perfectly reasonable explanations for Bhima's absence – but still, as she stretched an arm along the empty space beside her, some worry entered her thought. What had stopped or delayed her love's return? Had she simply visited her friend? Had she been needed by her sisters to assist in some dire emergency? Had they found out about Hijil, and stopped Bhima for darker reasons? Hijil shivered delicately, clasping her thick, leafy blanket closer to her. She sincerely hoped that she was not the reason that Bhima could not return.
Could not...
Hijil quickly thought up other options – perhaps her mother, Chike, had wanted to spend time with her. Hijil wouldn't blame her for staying a little longer to visit her – they lived far enough from the town that, though they were well within a day's travel, it was still a hassle to visit her. It would be expected that Chike would want some of Bhima's time while at the festival too, and Hijil could not blame her, either, for wanting to keep her daughter a little longer. Hijil was envious, but she understood.
Perhaps – and this one was an even happier option – perhaps the lotus or lotuses were growing on the tree. That would make sense - Hijil understood if children born of flowers took a great deal of time to grow, and perhaps half shifter ones (if she was so fortunate!) took a little longer still. She knew that Bhima wanted to keep the children there for a little while before she tried to take them home with her, which was very sensible. Maybe that was what was taking so long. If so, Hijil didn't want her to rush: the shifter was willing to endure heartache and loneliness and her own desire to have Bhima back and give her that time – the reward at the end would be worth it.
Hijil didn't bother to think of that dread talk of war, of the unpleasant rumors that had been running amok in the town, or of the idea that Bhima might not come back at all. Delays were delays, and she was able to convince herself that they were only temporary, that as time took it's inexorable and amorphous course, her waiting would end.
She knew, too, that the time Bhima was giving her was a good thing – after all, Hijil had many projects to complete. The renovations to the house were not finished yet, and Hijil wanted to be able to show Bhima her presents, wrought with her own two hands and hard work, and enjoy the joy and surprise on Bhima's face when she saw them. She wanted Bhima to see the sanctuary and home Hijil was making for them, a promise never to leave her again deeper than the promise that Hijil had made in the inn, this safe place to raise a family. She wanted Bhima to see it, and to hold her, and to love her, and to know that they would be able to live the way they wanted to, together, forever.
Of course, if she arrived while it wasn't finished, that was fine too. Hijil wanted to show her their new home together, but she also wanted to show it to her soon.
Soon...
Hijil levered her tired frame from her bed and grabbed a cup of water to splash on her face. Perhaps, when the heat of noon signaled her bedtime, she would be able to sleep then. For now, she had many errands to run in the daylight, and she had to do them in the hope that soon would indeed be soon, and she would not have many more sleepless sleeps.
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2015 8:43 pm
Building
1265- words-
With any luck, Bhima would come home with two new arrivals, and Hijil hoped that their home would be ready for it. She hammered in supports for the walls and flooring of the new addition to their home, and to the new rooms she wanted, working wholly without scaffolding as she relied on her own agility in the trees and on the vines around her to hold her up as she worked.
It was difficult to undo what she and Bhima had done when they had first put up their house in the trees, taking apart the wooden sidings and the attachments that kept the roof over their heads and the tree at their backs. It would be just as difficult, Hijil knew, to build anew, to recreate those walls and roofs, to connect all the pieces adequately and securely so that she and her lover and their children could be safe within them.
But when she was done, Hijil knew, it would be a home that was bigger, stronger, and more beautiful than before, a sanctuary where they could raise their children and be happy. Although Hijil had no formal training, she at least had a plan or two about what she wanted to do. She would build rooms and sheds, rope bridges and walkways, and even a garden to sustain them during the times that the jungle decided to withhold instead of provide.
She was happy for the distraction that the construction provided, laboring in the heat of day and night for the future instead of focusing on the interminable present. Bhima would come home – the waiting meant nothing.
~~~
Collecting materials was sometimes challenging. Hijil knew how to build from wood (well enough) and the forest provided wood to build with, but Hijil was hard pressed to find wood that was not rotted. In Jahuar, dead fall was swiftly decomposed, and if not gotten to quickly, would be unusable for a sturdy home. Of course, she could cut down trees for lumber, but doing that in the middle of the jungle was asking for trouble.
She did have an axe, though, and so Hijil began the dangerous process of trying to cut down easier targets – branches.
There was a particularly nice branch she was after. She scurried up the massive tree with ease, climbing branches as if born to them until she finally found one near her mark. She bound herself to a sturdy branch – the trunk was too big to bind – with rope, and got to chopping. It was not the best position to be in – dangling there gave her little real leverage – and if she dropped the axe, she would have to climb all the way back down for it. Every strike she made shook the whole tree, and made her lurch dangerously.
But... if she wanted good wood... there was no other way.
At least, that was what she thought.
So, she battled the branch, hacking at it until it fell. Retrieving it was easier than detaching it, and it provided wood for building and fuel for fire, both of which she used. However, after two more similar attempts, Hijil wondered if it was worth the danger.
So, one day, she went to the tree she had been taking apart in that manner, and just chopped it down. Standing on the ground was safer than dangling from a rope harness, despite the predators, and the fall of the tree was not as destructive and horrible as she had imagined. As the great tree ripped loose of its moorings and crashed to the ground, she felt a deep sense of accomplishment.
Immediately, she began to butcher it. Of course, she would be unable to use all of the wood for their home, but it meant that she no longer had to scour the forest for dead fall – she had it right here.
As sunlight streamed through the new hole in the canopy and seedlings and other trees-in-waiting strained for the sudden opportunity that the light provided, Hijil carried her materials home.
And she began to build.
~~~
Their home was in the trees, and so each new addition needed to have a platform, a roof, and attachments to the trees. Each needed a rope bridge to connect them (though that could come later) and supports to help the floor hold additional weight.
The platforms and supports required the most wood – the walls and roof were merely scaffolding for stretched hide, thick leaves, and thatching. Hijil used no nails, of course – she had only seen real metal once, on the battlefield against the Obans. But, to hold the walls in place, she used studs of fang and crystal, driving them into the wood frames to hold the walls together.
One day, after a terrible dream about small children falling through walls, she began to build additional things with the walls – buffer areas between the inside areas and the walls, and catcher areas outside of the walls. The kinfa, wandering as they were, were a perfect test for this and one day they did hop through one of her walls and were safely caught by her nets. Of course, the catcher areas caught more than just stray kinfa and possible stray children – they caught water and leaves.
And with that, Hijil had an idea – she modified them, arching them downwards, and build a series of barrels. It took her a few tries to get the barrels right, but once she did, she had a way to catch rainwater for drinking and bathing, one that would be very useful, she was sure.
~~~
Hides were gathered by hunting, pieces of waterproof bark were stripped from deadfall and the massive, chopped-down tree. Thick, leathery leaves were stripped from their plants and tanned, briefly, in the canopy to make them stronger.
Hijil worked hard, and building until all the various parts of their new house – of their new sanctuary for them and their children – began to come together in a recognizable way. Hijil wove reedy plants into rope, getting better at it with each batch she made, and began to build bridges connecting the various nodes of their home together. She attached them securely – first with knots, then with posts, and tried to run them along supports in their middle when possible. To test them, the massive shifter jumped on them when she was done, trusting herself to handle the fall well.
And aside from a few close calls, all was, indeed well. Her bridges were strong, her constructions amateurish but good, her hard work apparent. She was pleased.
But, in her concentration on building new structures, Hijil had neglected the older part of the structure, the part that she and Bhima had built together – a fact made apparent when, one night, she nearly fell through the floor. She struggled against the rotted floorboards and pulled herself onto more solid flooring, frowning at the mess.
That wouldn't do.
So, her construction and renovation finished, Hijil began her repairs. Flooring was replaced, the furniture inspected for damage and replaced as well. Structural supports and roofing material was refurbished and replaced, and when Hijil was done, all was now properly well.
Everything was new, now – new lumber, new roofing, new supports, and new additions. Hijil looked over her work with pride: she had done well, and she hoped that Bhima would be pleased.
And with that, she switched to their new garden, keeping herself busy there and awaiting Bhima's return...
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2015 8:56 pm
The Alkidike Scouts
1064 - words-
Hijil was most comfortable in the trees, and she kept to them when she hunted, gathered, or explored the surrounding jungle. It was better to be up high, and she felt faster, safer, and more in control in the vast canopy of Jahuar.
Her building complete, she sought, now, food to store and plants to put in her new garden. Furniture, for the most part, would wait for Bhima's return, so she could consult with her. Then, they could build that together, to their liking.
Of course, a priority on her trip today was food for the kinfa – the little birds were growing and eternally hungry, begging insistently for food on an almost constant basis. If Hijil hadn't known better, she would have thought them to be bottomless pits. But they did have bottoms, soft fluffy bottoms, and Hijil was happy to fill them up to that bottom if possible.
To her great delight, she found a tree full of ripe, easy to store fruit and began to gather it, placing it in a bucket for transport. It was truly a windfall – the fruit from this tree was more than enough to support even the kinfa for a significant chunk of time, leaving her to worry about other things.
Like the voices below her.
Hijil stilled in her gathering, listening nervously like a prey animal as feminine voices drifted up to her through the leaves.
They did not speak a language she understood, but she knew it. She had heard Bhima speak it, and had heard it in the Alkidike town. Stealthily, she crawled onto the lower branches, peering through the foliage at the interlopers. They were, indeed, Alkidike. They were fully grown and well formed, standing tall and proud with well-crafted spears in hand. Their conversation seemed serious, but they themselves were relaxed – and, as usual, proud. Hijil watched them warily, unwilling to reveal herself to them.
Although Bhima was an Alkidike herself, and had many friends (of course) amidst her own kind, Hijil did not trust them completely. With her history of isolation, Hijil was skittish and shy at best and given recent events, Hijil preferred to stay out of the way of Alkidikes. Fortunately, she rarely saw them in this part of the jungle, but it was Alkidike territory, and so it was not entirely a surprise to see them around. What was a surprise was the direction they headed to when they began to walk.
Southwest.
Right towards her home.
Hijil felt a trill of panic and scurried into the higher branches, seeking the road of intersecting branches that would bring her home. She had to get there before they did, and... and do something. After all, the last time Alkidikes had come to their home, they had broken doors and furniture and had thrown their belongings into the surrounding trees. She had just finished the building of their new home – she would not have it harmed again so soon.
~~~
Hijil knew the higher ways of the local trees, and she expertly scrambled from branch to branch. She returned home in far less time than the walk would have taken, and settled onto one of her platforms, feeling a naggling sense of time running out.
The Alkidike were coming. Only two, and two she could handle, but she would rather not fight if she had to: Hijil's preference was for hiding. So, she would hide. But how?
Hijil knew that she had to do something to hide her home, but what could she do? The wood was there, starkly new for anyone to see. Moss? But where was she going to get enough to cover up everything? Twigs and leaves? She had plenty of those, of course, but not enough to camouflage all the new parts of her home.
It was something, though, so she set to camouflaging, packing twigs and leaves around the obvious constructions to make it look less made and more natural. Such things did exist in the forest, after all.
But Hijil ran out of twigs long before she ran out of space she needed to hide, and she found herself at a loss. What could she do, then? She was running out of time, though she was also sure she had enough for one last trick – the path was quite long after all.
And then it hit her – she didn't know why it hadn't before.
Vines!
She could use vines to hide everything! She'd been planning on bringing a few home for their garden, but what if their whole home was a garden of vines? Long, verdant, cloaking vines? Suddenly, it seemed like a very good idea.
Hastily, Hijil went to as many places she knew that contained vines, carefully removing as many as she could at their bases, where accessible, and returning with whole curtains of hanging vines to plant in the moist areas of the trees. She tucked them there with soil and rope, arranging them as ably as she could and masking her home behind a cloak of plants and flowers and soft, shiny leaves. It was the best she could do on such short notice.
She had just finished securing the vines when she began to hear voices and footsteps on the game trail that led to her and Bhima's home. Hijil scurried into the safety of the trees like a startled beast, waiting anxiously as she saw the large green women walk into her home's clearing.
They spoke softly in their strange language, looking around them and gesturing at the vines. One commented, the other laughed, and Hijil sweated, still as a stone, in her perch. One of them made a sound, a mimicry of a crash, and the other laughed.
And then, with that last parting mockery, they turned and left, disappearing into the tangled dusk of the jungle.
Hijil relaxed, relieved. She was safe.
~~~
Of course, the vines didn't all take. Many died from their hasty tranplant, but Hijil restored the cloaking vines with new grafts. She planted ground vines and climbing vines, and tended them until they thrived. She was determined that their home would be beautiful, that it would be hidden, that it would be safe, and she worked towards that goal. Everything would be perfect when Bhima came. When. Soon, she hoped. That event would be soon.
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Posted: Sat Jan 16, 2016 6:13 pm
To Stay or Go
712 - words-
Waiting hurt. It dragged at the heart, spreading out hope and patience until they were in tatters. Hijil had been waiting a long time. She was a being of patience (some would say of infinite patience), and had been, in a sense, caught waiting her whole life. Hijil was used to waiting. Hijil was good at waiting.
Hijil was also reaching her limit. That day, she leapt into the trees after feeding her feathered charges, chasing after some news about her love's wherabouts. Bhima had been gone a long time, and Hijil had run out of excuses for why.
Her myriad worries were not allayed by the mostly empty state of the nearby settlement: Only a few Alkidikes, younglings, and hybrids walked about, attending to their business. There was no Bhima in sight, and there was a tension in the air that Hijil didn't like.
She emerged from the trees, overcoming her long-ingrained shyness to speak to the people of the settlement. “What is this?” she asked, as wary as a wild animal, “What's going on? Where is everyone?”
They looked at her with equal wariness, a wariness which mystified Hijil until she realized that she was a big, muscular Shifter who had just walked into their settlement. A threat. Of course they would be wary of her. It was odd to think that people who she feared were afraid of her. Their answer scared her more than they did.
War. They told her, there was War... had she not heard? The Alkidikes were trying to conquer Sauti, and other Alkidike were trying to stop them. It was chaos, and the people left behind weren't sure where to stand. The younglings had their opinions, but they weren't sure either. There had been much upheaval, even in their young lives, and they were worried that new changes were coming on the horizon.
Eventually, curiousity sated, Hijil slipped back into the trees, a shadow amongst shadows. She contemplated the news darkly in between the leaves and boughs of Jahuar's canopy. A war on Earthlings and hybrids... What did that mean for her and for Bhima? What did that mean for their children?
Hijil did not doubt that Bhima was participating in the war – likely she was one of the brave people trying to stop the Alkidike's plans of conquest. That sounded like something she would do and would explain why she had been gone for so long. But war also meant death, and death meant that there was a chance that Bhima might not come back.
Hijil knew they had both been fortunate to have what time they had together, and Hijil couldn't help but think of the endless years she had left Bhima alone. Bhima had had no idea whether Hijil was safe. Now, Hijil didn't know. It felt terrifying and karmic, like she was being punished again for those long years of selfish seclusion.
So, what was she going to do about it? Would she try to track Bhima down and find her on the battlefield? That would be the most proactive option, and she might even find Bhima... but would she be alive or dead? The thought of finding out that it was the latter scared Hijil. She could also stay put, take care of their home, and wait for Bhima's return. She had been doing so for so long that it had almost become a habit.
Where would Bhima need her most? Where would Hijil want to be the most? Both options felt like they would be at Bhima's side, but which option would she choose. Hijil stared up at the stars through the leaves of the canopy, as if they would give her an answer. Of course, they didn't. The leaves and the stars didn't care what she chose.
But she had to make a choice, and follow through with it. With a sigh, Hijil decided to stay and wait. Habit was a powerful thing, and she had to trust that Bhima would return to her. By the time she reached Sauti and found the battlefield, it would be too late to change Bhima's fate there anyway.
So she would wait for Bhima, and when she finally returned, their home would be waiting. And it would be beautiful.
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Posted: Fri Apr 15, 2016 7:00 am
Hijil returned from protecting her home-nation-family from the terror of the outside world feeling content as she surveyed her world. They would never have to deal with the dangers or the pain of the world beyond her wooden walkways and treetops. They would be safe.
The boy – her son – was nowhere to be found. She looked for him with increasing desperation and whenever she turned to one of the other children to ask if they knew where he was, they were suddenly gone, too. There, only moments before, but then gone. Away.
Scared, she went to find Bhima. She was alone, now, completely. The treetops were more silent than anything she had ever experienced. A world without sound. Alone. She searched the whole of their home, in the infinite, twisting expanse of walkways and bridges and islands and platforms, some of which she swore she hadn't made, though of course she had. No no avail – Bhima was not there. Bhima was gone.
Hijil was all alone...
Hijil awoke with a choked sob, and realized that she was home, she was safe, and she wasn't alone. She hoped Bhima (or the kinfa) hadn't been awakened by her (though she then realized that it was also the middle of the day, and they were already awake and active. Such was how she chose to sleep.)
She leaned on the leafy mattress and let her thoughts congeal. Had that really all been a dream? All of it? It had felt so real, so painful. What did it mean? The resting, the spinning wheel, the battle, the kingdom in the trees? Did it mean anything? Hijil had heard that dreams had meaning, but she didn't know how. Weren't they just dreams?
Except, this one rang true. Every time she had given into her fears or had blindly followed the people she loved, she had tripped and fallen. She had hurt them, they had hurt her, it had all been pain and betrayal.
She knew that, also, she couldn't hide here in the canopy forever – that last segment had revealed as much. It was a worry, constant in her head, that the world outside her hermitage would eat her alive. But that world was Bhima's world, and soon they would have young children that would want to be in that world, too. Hijil would have to venture past the outposts of her home and the wilds of the jungle, and enter that world.
Otherwise she would lose them.
She groaned quietly as she lifted herself from the bed, reluctant. It was early (or late) yet for her, but she didn't want to sleep. It was best, she knew, to set out immediately, to explore and challenge herself while the going was good. To say 'yes' to Bhima, that she would join her in her journey to Aisha, before she could find some reason out of it. To grow up.
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