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Shandi being there was... mixed. Hijil had decided to like the child, though she had been thoroughly annoying and pushy. And, it seemed, the girl was responsible for reuniting them.

But Shandi was in danger here. ”We need to take her home.” Hijil said abruptly, thinking out loud, ”It's dangerous for her here.”

It was deep in the jungle, far from Shandi's home, and in Alkidike territory besides... And then it hit Hijil – completely and fully – that Bhima was there. Actually there. ”I'm...” Hijil said, smiling at Bhima, ”I'm glad she brought you.”

Aww, crud, They'd noticed her again. The thing with the caramels had been adorable. The whole thing had just been superbly adorable. Perfect. Surely they would kiss soon... But no, apparently she'd messed up the moment.

”Oh no.” she said, ”You don't have to take me home!” she used the sweet voice that occasionally got her what she wanted, ”I can go home on my own”

Which, of course, meant doubling back and hiding to watch the beautiful reunion.

Hijil didn't have Shandi's guile, but she knew – all too well - that the jungle was not a good place for a little girl alone. ”No.” she said, ”It's not safe.” she looked at Bhima, wondering what the other thought...

Shandi pouted unhappily, but it was futile: she had seen the same stern looks on her father and brother's face often enough to know that they were going to take her home.

”Fine...” she mumbled, resigned. She would find some other way to spy on their reunion.


Hijil was relieved that the girl did not fight them in this. It really was dangerous alone in the jungle, but her ability to argue that point – besides the scars she bore on her arms – was lacking.

”We'll take you home.” Hijil said, glad, too, that Bhima agreed. She had already been prepared for a trip, and such a trip was more than she had ever hoped or dreamed for.

Hijil's hands had no squirming avian burden to distract them, and so she fidgeted, clasping her hands together until the urge to hug Bhima again and it's related urge of taking her hands into hers and never letting go subsided to a degree she could tolerate. As she walked with Bhima and the girl, she almost thought that if she blinked, she would find herself waking in her hut alone, a whole journey ahead of her.

It was unreal, this encounter, but it was real. It had been real. It was still being real. Hijil was almost grateful to Shandi for needing to be escorted home – it gave Hijil to absorb the entirety of the event, and time she needed. She was a slow, methodical person who had just been hit with a tidal wave of emotions and memories. She needed that time to breathe and understand what had just happened.

“Well!” said Shandi, smiling at Bhima, “Depends! I first met her in the tent, when she gave you that pretty fish, but I first MET met her at her home, because I followed her you see.” she smirked, “I'm very good at tracking.” she said proudly, “My brother says that I could make a great hunter someday.” She omitted the part where he added 'if you would shut up for two seconds' because that wasn't very flattering, not to her or to him. “Anyway, thats how I met her.” she looked at Hijil slyly. “So” she said sweetly, turning to Bhima, a model of innocence, “How did you two meet?”

The question had not been directed to Hijil, but it hit her hard. She blinked, briefly dazed as she realized that she, herself, did not remember. As long as there had been hope of a reprieve from her mother, there had been Bhima. She could remember them together, holding each others hands and playing with each others hair, running through the jungle and watching the stars, and talking, and kissing. She could remember the end, and the abandonment within that end.

But the beginning... She could not remember the beginning, no matter how hard she tried to find it amidst the polished and gilded memories of her far-off childhood.

She looked to Bhima, as curious as the girl to hear what she would say, if anything at all.

Hijil had been hoping for a little more illumination: it seemed that Bhima didn't remember much about their first meeting.

Seemed Hijil realized. Yes. Right. Shandi was here, and maybe Bhima wouldn't want to tell her everything? That, too, was a relief: there had only been herself for so long, that it was hard to remember she had secrets and, remembering, she found she liked them secret.

She made a note to herself – for what it was worth, given the occasional unreliability of her memory -to ask Bhima at a later time. When they were... alone. Without Shandi. Because two people, together, were not 'alone', not after the solitude that she had lived in for so long. Two people were company. Her and Bhima... Her mind tripped over itself with joy at the concept.

”Maybe.” answered Hijil, feeling like she had to speak, despite just wanting to listen to Bhima's voice.


Shandi was disappointed in the dullness of their meeting. 'Just exploring' and 'Just gathering'? That was hardly romantic at all.

No, Shandi decided, when she told someone else their story – because she would; the girl had barely been able to keep her mouth shut this long – she would... embellish it. A lot. Maybe they would meet when one of them fell from a tree? Or a cliff? Or was running from a radaku?

And then – with that – maybe they would meet again with something similar! A repeat of the past. The girl grinned as she imagined it: who cared if it wasn't real? Reality was what you made of it.

“Oooo? Where do you live?” asked Shandi, staring at Bhima. She hadn't followed the Alkidike – just the shifter – and so she didn't know as much about the woman as she would like to. “What's it like? Is it full of Alkidikes?”

Andile...

Hijil knew of Andile : she'd heard it's name during the tournament, along with Emeka and Ekene and other names in the Alkidike language she assumed referred to places.

If she had ventured forth into the jungle in search of Bhima, would she have found Andile? It was hard to say. She wanted to see it more now than she had before. If this all wasn't a dream, Bhima had found her, and that meant that she could see this strange and mythical place that Bhima had grown up in without having to seek her at the same time. It was something she hadn't thought of.

She returned Bhima's smile with guileless joy, a glimpse behind her usual mask of stony silence. She was glad that Shandi had asked, and promised herself to ask more later, to rekindle the old stories and memories and just... and just... Well, Hijil didn't know...


“Awww...” said Shandi sympathetically at the mention of hybrids, “Poor things!” her opinion on hybrids was that, while mixed marriages were perfectly adorable and fine, babies should not be mixed – the parents should try very hard to breed in their own race, and then raise them up together. That would be nice. But no, nobody really did, and Shandi found that horribly unfortunate and maybe a little selfish.

“I heard that Alkidikes live in trees.” she said importantly, “Why in a tree? Why not on a tree?” Like rational people do? she didn't say, though it was true! The shifters had the right idea (of course, being one, she was very biased).

Sure the inn was built into a tree, but it had been like that when pappa'd found it, and they'd added proper structures to it.

“So? So?” she said, unable to wait for a proper time, “Are you gonna take Hijil there? Hmm?”

“Ooo, a market! What do you sell? What do you buy? What do you do, Bhima?” asked Shandi rapid fire, not to be deterred by Bhima's off-putting and boring answers. “What will you talk...”

”We should hurry...” Hijil interrupted, flushing slightly. So many questions! The girl was full of them and they were overwhelming. The word discussion made her nervous in an ambiguous way, carrying as it did something unknown. But they would have one, and something would happen in it, and it was important.

But not around Shandi. ”Your father... he will be worried.”

“Ha! No he won't! He's probably not even back from town yet.” said Shandi dismissively, uncaringly. “He's slow. He takes forever to get back.”

”You said that before.” admonished Hijil quietly, ”And he was worried about you. When you came home.”

Daytime had come again, and Hijil had barely felt her own skin change to its darker hue. Hours... had it been hours? Was that even possible? Walking for hours was not much to Hijil, not anymore, but to have Bhima there for this long without fading away into some sort of hallucinational haze was simply... bizarre. Hijil was normally very patient, but it had been years, and she still wasn't convinced that this wasn't all going to go away if she blinked. She wanted to have that discussion now, the desire to hold Bhima close and just talk, or just be, or something burned inside of her like an ember, waiting for tinder to flare into something real and warm.

But Shandi was there, and Hijil – not usually prone to resentment, was starting to indeed resent the girl's presence... But she was the instrument of the situation, and so... and so... Hijil fidgeted with her hands, wondering if they were close, now, to Shandi's home...


Shandi had to keep the alkidike talking. She needed more information, always more. They were closer to home now – she was even starting to recognize landmarks – and her mission, as a collector of stories and gossip, was to get as much as she could before someone stopped her.

“You're welcome!” said Chandraki, brushing off the remark about her family not wanting her to traipse off into the woods with an alkidike. She had other, more important things to find out!

“What sort of beads...” Shandi began, her eyes drifting to follow the Alkidike's gaze, “Oh! Like those! Oh! Did you give them to her?!” she asked, pouncing on that thread, “Oh my gosh, you gave each other presents?! Before the tent?!” she made a half-resisted high pitched sound in her throat, delighted, “Ooo, ooo, so... so before the tent and the fish, what did she give you? Can I see?”

Hijil flinched slightly. She really, really, didn't want to deal with Chandraki's questions. Not now. Not even about the little nondwa. ”We're almost there.” Hijil said, hopefully.