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Hijil, meanwhile, was cooking. She had very little stamina when it came to people other than Bhima and, after a few rounds of roughhousing and trying to be very, very, careful with her own strength, she had felt she had to retreat into more domestic duties.

Tonight's dinner was braised bug, fresh fruit, candied fruit, and grain pancakes. It was, to Hijil, a perfect meal: warm and filling and, most of all, dryer than the outside. Jahuar was used to torrential rains, but this one was unusual in that the air itself seemed to be water, such that walking was like swimming. Having been out in weather like this herself, Hijil was grateful to have a roof over her head, her lover in the room, and food – very nearly – ready to be eaten.

Though she had retreated from the action, she still enjoyed it from afar. Bhima was so good with children... It was just... nice to see.

She laughed lightly at the girl's roar and Bhima's 'predicament' as she began to set up a platter. ”Oh no!” she said, ”Whatever shall you do?” she felt immensely shy about speaking, but the desire to speak, to interact, to be a part of this playtime was too great to repress, ”Would dinner help?” she set out the steaming, probably delicious offerings and beamed at them. It would probably be all she said the rest of the night, but she was glad she had spoken. She had spent too long in silence.

The Jahuaran bandit family had used the rain before, and had robbed many a traveler and camp on the road, unwilling to let this windfall go to waste. They had even hit some of the shifter settlements: the outskirts of Ast, a bit of Sol. They hadn't gone south to Neued. Besides it being the likely spot that one of their own had died fighting, they'd heard odd things about that place and figured it was best to avoid it for the time being.

This was the first Alkidike settlement that they had dared to step into, and the small group of earthlings – all kin – were very cautious. They had taken the time – precious, since the intense rains were both fortuitous and unpredictable this year – to stake out areas that were likely to be easier targets. They had already lost one of their own this year to war. One was enough for their group.

This house, they knew, had a single buglady and her kid, and the big buglady was out. It was time to make their move, see what they could get. They began to creep, like shadows, around, along, and onto the treehouse. The noises from inside made them uneasy – it was supposed to be empty – but, after some silent communication, the group decided to risk it. Get in, get things, get out.

With that decided, the first one put his old, scruffy glove over the edge of the window leading into one of the rooms, an empty one. They beckoned their companions over, pulling the rest of their body in, the other shadows following suit.

They were in. It was to be an easy job.

Warmth and joy.

Such was how the scene presented itself. The easy laughter. Bhima's touch. The child's enjoyment. The cozy intimacy of the scene. Why, Hijil could easily imagine it as something other than temporary... the home as theirs, the space as theirs, the child as theirs... Home and space they had now (though Hijil sometimes missed her roost by the sea) but child... well, for now, she would enjoy the company of this little one, the honor of her care had been given to them for the night.

”I'm glad you like it.” Hijil murmured, pleased.

The intruders paused at the roar, waiting warily to see if it was some beast that would threaten them, but in the end they determined its source. Just the little one they hissed to their companions, laughing at their wariness.

The scent of food tickled their nostrils and long buried hunger stirred within them. The band – the family – ate what it could get, and there were never days of glut. Only lean days and slightly less-lean days, as they tried to make what they had last.

They didn't have a permanent home, and without proper clay ovens and more than a dampened flame, even the best chefs in the band could not make anything like the aromas seeping from the lit room beyond.

Maybe we should steal that too... murmured one to the other. There was resistence, then, as stomachs began to protest, there was agreement. As some began to loot through the currently empty room, others peered into the longingly warm scene, assessing whether they could get away with taking it for themselves...

Hijil didn't hear the noises, but her subconscious did. Instincts, honed in the deadly jungle, told her that something was not right. Something undefinable intruded on their peaceful, perfect scene.

Was it her? She was not an Alkidike – she did not fit in here, in the Alkidike lands. She did not fit in among Shifters, either, but at least among them, she had the camouflage of her changing skin.

Bhima's rising, graceful as a hunting radaku, both eased her worries and made her tense. It meant that Bhima heard something, and that the something was not her. It was not in her head – something had intruded.

The creeping warning of her instincts crawled over her skin, but she remained seated – Bhima was going to go and see. Bhima was capable of dealing with it. Hijil no longer had to do everything herself, to be everywhere at once.

She gave the child a smile. ”You have a good appetite.” she commented, trying to exercise her atrophied ability to 'small talk', ”You are going to grow big and strong.”

Two grownups were with the child, and they looked strong. The bandits hesitated, between their stomachs and their wariness.

Frantic movements signaled that one was moving – towards them. They had noticed something. By this point, someone had found, among other things, the set of Alkidike-style crystal swords and stowed them – though simple blades, they could be wielded or re purposed or otherwise used by the resourceful bandits.

The signal was caught and interpreted. Bandits hid in the darkness. Weapons were drawn – sword and staff and hammer and crossbow. They hadn't come for a fight: but they would make one anyway. The moment Bhima passed a certain threshold of the room, stomach won out: one adult was easier than two.

And they pounced...

Hijil stood as if she was an arrow released from a bow, leaping nimbly to her feet and nearly bringing down her stool in the process. It was, however, a sturdy thing. She could hear her blood in her ears, her nightmares materialized in Bhima's shout. Her body was braced for a fight, a return to its old habit of life and death.

She had to help Bhima. She had to run to her aid. Everything that was Hijil told her that she had to tear away the intruders with a force like the storms that slammed the coast on some dark and terrible nights. She could not let her lover face this threat alone – were not those days past?

But the desire was not unanimous. It conflicted with her lovers wish, and her awareness that here, defenseless, was a child – a child that needed to be brought to safety. A child that had to come before her own needs. Hijil hestiated, an agony of a few seconds. ”Come, Lissy.” she said, picking up the child easily and tearing herself away from the fight. ”Aunty Bhima will deal with them.” And, desperately wanting to believe her own words, she fled with the girl tucked tightly to her chest.

A kid was one thing. A shifter was another. Kids were kids, whatever they were, and Shifters were kinsmen. But a grown Alkidike was something wholly different. Many of them had personal vendettas against the warrior women, and they were very willing to beat this one up...

Hijil felt as though she had been dipped in ice cold water, and then splashed with boiling water, all at once. Her skin crawled with fear and regret and a single minded run for safety.

Bhima's voice was like something out of a dream. Hijil wasn't sure that she heard it, but she obeyed it anyway, changing her direction for the central part of the settlement. Bhima's reality – and safety – became apparent when Hijil glanced over her shoulder.

”It'll be all right.” she whispered to Lissy, a ripple of relief easing through her. And now, she could believe it.

Yes. They had their sisters.

That wasn't the issue here. She did not want to deal with all the other, older, Alkidikes, but their help was needed. Help that they would give to their sisters, if not to her.

She slowed as they came upon the settlement's central core, giving Lissa a squeeze as much for her own comfort as the girl's. Bhima knew what she was doing.

Hijil let the group go – they were perfectly capable of doing the task ahead of them without her, and she had other duties to attend to. She found shelter with Lissy, stroking her back gently.

”I know.” she murmured, finding a safe place to sit with the child to await Bhima's return, ”But they will take care of it. They will take care of everything. Your sisters are...” Hijil rarely said so much in one breath, and needed another to continue. But that moment was what she needed to have a flash of inspiration. ”They're strong. I'll sing to you while you wait for them to return.”

Softly, she began to sing. The lyrics didn't matter – Hijil was making them up on the spot from the half-remembered and sparingly pleasant memories of her childhood, rocking the girl gently as she did so.

So it would be how Bhima found them when all was over and done – The child: asleep in Hijil's massive arms from the 'excitement' of the day and the Shifter's slow rocking and soft song; and Hijil: concentrating adoringly on the small girl.

It was a beautiful scene out of such a tumultuous night.