Tandavi

I'll light a fire in your new shoes.

They stride across the water on confident legs, happy to take refuge from the onslaught of winter here at the edge of the Eastern sea. Fire Dancer and her brother are in a rare moment of peace, caught in limbo between shifting tides and happy to remain there until something arrives, a gentle nudge to rock them onto a new path.

A strong gust of wind buffets them from the West, and with it comes whispers, a voice which teases the girl's ears and tangles in her hair. She cannot make out words but her curiosity is piqued; they have wandered, alone, for some time, and the copper child knows that her brother yearns to find companionship in the presence of another. Or so she tells herself, ardently denying that it could be she; she is not yet ready to face her loneliness, though she is steadily learning it is not all she has. Perhaps by giving others a chance she will find something more of herself; and so she steps forward through the mist, following a murmur which may be naught more than air.

The wind shifts and the whispers disappear, drowning so thoroughly in the mist and fog that the girl wonders if she ever heard them at all. They may not have found where the mare lay prone, but the fox's ears are keener than hers, oversized and eager to pick out minute sounds. It is not far - barely feet - before they break from their patch of isolation and into hers, a darting shadow followed by a girl wreathed in flame, onyx eyes turned curiously upon the ground where the figure of a crimson-striped tiger lies.

It takes a moment for recognition to rise a name to her lips, but when it does the girl breathes it easily, dark voice pressing softly into the space. "Maren," she murmurs, and the word hangs there expectantly as Fire Dancer regards the Diviner of the Sun, her predecessor, a mare as strange to her as many who live within what was her home. Regret clouds her face for a single moment, hesitation and discomfort making her wish she had simply continued on her own way- the she swallows it down with the rest of her fear, allowing it to simper in the back of her mind as she wills herself into a curious smile. She may not know Maren well, but both have been oracles, and both follow the same Light; perhaps this is enough for an acquaintanceship to start.

Carefully the girl takes another step closer, arcing her neck to peer down toward whatever it is the tigermare holds against her breast so dear. Her brother is not one to maintain such propriety; his small body creeps to the mare's side, and he sends back a message to his sister- Egg! They know what this means. There is a moment while she feels him puzzling over something else, and he flashes her an image of the strange china bowl. The girl sighs; not for the first time both wish that the Earth had not taken away the kitsune's short-lived ability to speak. It was difficult, when the social sibling was voiceless and the reticent one his mouth.

"Natraj offers his congratulations," the girl's alto voice says softly from near Maren's side, "And says that if you need help hunting, he is quite able." A chuckle escapes her at this last little boast, and the minuscule fox sits up proudly, three tails wagging to show his assent. Yes, his sister agrees, you are a great hunter- when the prey is a worm!

The exchange makes her thoughts turn back to Maren, and the egg which sits before her, a promise and a threat. What will it be like, bonding so late in life? Is it an invasion of privacy, or the filling of a hole; is it the fulfillment of a dream, or the weight of an anchor? Bound nearly at birth, the girl knows nothing else; but now as she watches the tigermare sympathy (and perhaps Ampere) fills her mind. Softer, subdued, she speaks again- "Natraj and I have been bonded all our lives," she confides. "We never had a choice. And we're happy, but-"

A glance is exchanged, and a million thoughts, before the girl's gaze settles back on the Diviner. She feels awkward, out of place; she feels intrusive but cannot stop now, because she has come this far and there is a future to defend. "Are you prepared for this? Is this what you want?" For Ampere has taught her much, both with her passions and her mistakes; and the girl remembers the last time she saw an egg hatch, and how the lightning mare sought to run, unprepared for such responsibility. Fire Dancer did not know how Zekle had fared, but she could prevent Maren, now, from making a mistake- or perhaps help guide her toward a responsible future.