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It had been one of those strange days were, by all rights, Neena should have been exhausted. And yet she was wide awake. Perhaps she was so tired that she had moved into that state of being where the energy just wouldn't disappear from your soul and the only thing you could do was to run with it and enjoy the spirit of excitement whilst you had it.
For firstly, she had spent the morning with the physicians in the healer's tents. After a brief skirmish with a pack of desert vagrants, several of the tribe had needed tending to. And with the Leierin of the tribe and several of her more experienced healers away from tribe collecting herbs and seeing to poultices, it had been all hands on deck within the hawe of healing.
Neena hadn't been permitted to actually do any of the physician work of course.
A mere slave, Neena had been assigned tasks that were appropriate for her station. Told to clean away bandages, pots that had been used for the excretions of patients and bedding that had been blood stained or sweated through. She had been the one to open all the covers when the hawe became too hot and then lower them once more when the sun changed position and they needed the shade for coolness.
In short, she had been the slave labour that she was.
And yet she had gone about it with a smile on a face and an effort to be as helpful as possible. For, while Neena could be said by some to be a rebellious sort of slave, she did not lack compassion. In fact, it was one of her strongest gifts. So, if a master of his slaved told them to complete work for the sake of work, she was one of the more difficult of their subordinates. If she was told to do something that helped someone, and aided them in their health. She was a formidable asset.
Helping here and there, assessing patients and assisting the more experienced tribal healers had been a rewarding experience and, after swallowing down some bread and a few mouthfuls of broth, Neena was given the task of caring for the children of the patients whilst their wives saw to their injured men.
Games persisted and chases ensued. Neena spent more of her time rolling in the sand than she did on her feet all afternoon, intending on play fighting the children into distraction after the news of their fathers' being wounded.
By the time sun came towards the land once more and the sunset that it leeched across the sky was hovering on the brink of darkening into true dusk, Neena should have been aching all over and exhausted in both body and mind.
Instead, she was zinging with energy.
So, when she spotted one of the musicians of the tribe fixing the skin of his drum during the collective dinner that many of the tribe had sat down to enjoy, Neena's gaze brightened and her smile was a shocking white in the darkness of the approaching night.
"Play something!" Neena insisted to the man when he tapped upon the stretched skin, satisfied that his new fastenings would hold it into place. "Come on! You must test a new instrument, or you will never know its true soul." Neena teased, her tongue pressed between her teeth when the man smiled gaily back at her.
With little encouragement, the man started in with a couple of beats, playing quietly with the tips of his fingers and very edge of the ball of his palm. Neena nodded, started to sway and tap her foot in rhythm, watching the way the skilled man's fingers darted over the hide.
Finding Neena's reaction funny, the young boy next to her turned over his now empty dinner bowl and started to tap upon its apex, creating a hollow noise like the drum yielded and Neena laughed. She bit her lower lip, wiggled her head and encouraged the boy.
Quickly, others started to join in. Another few drums were found. Some of the older women started to chant and call out a classic story of bravery and strength - a herald to the bravery of the Zaire tribe in their native tongue.
Getting up from the sands, Neena encouraged the little boy next to her to rise to his feet also and then began to dance.
Performing the moves slowly and at half pace so that he got them quickly it wasn't long before Neena had the boy dancing away like a pro. She had seen folks win coin on the streets who had less talent than the little kid.
With a laugh, Neena was lost, dancing around now to her own song and spirit, her feet moving in time and her limbs moving with grace and soul. A woman used to using dance as a form of winning her own dinner, Neena was good at the art and moved with the lightest of kicks to the sands, reaching out to grab the hands of others and bring them into the merriment...
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It had been one of those strange days were, by all rights, Neena should have been exhausted. And yet she was wide awake. Perhaps she was so tired that she had moved into that state of being where the energy just wouldn't disappear from your soul and the only thing you could do was to run with it and enjoy the spirit of excitement whilst you had it.
For firstly, she had spent the morning with the physicians in the healer's tents. After a brief skirmish with a pack of desert vagrants, several of the tribe had needed tending to. And with the Leierin of the tribe and several of her more experienced healers away from tribe collecting herbs and seeing to poultices, it had been all hands on deck within the hawe of healing.
Neena hadn't been permitted to actually do any of the physician work of course.
A mere slave, Neena had been assigned tasks that were appropriate for her station. Told to clean away bandages, pots that had been used for the excretions of patients and bedding that had been blood stained or sweated through. She had been the one to open all the covers when the hawe became too hot and then lower them once more when the sun changed position and they needed the shade for coolness.
In short, she had been the slave labour that she was.
And yet she had gone about it with a smile on a face and an effort to be as helpful as possible. For, while Neena could be said by some to be a rebellious sort of slave, she did not lack compassion. In fact, it was one of her strongest gifts. So, if a master of his slaved told them to complete work for the sake of work, she was one of the more difficult of their subordinates. If she was told to do something that helped someone, and aided them in their health. She was a formidable asset.
Helping here and there, assessing patients and assisting the more experienced tribal healers had been a rewarding experience and, after swallowing down some bread and a few mouthfuls of broth, Neena was given the task of caring for the children of the patients whilst their wives saw to their injured men.
Games persisted and chases ensued. Neena spent more of her time rolling in the sand than she did on her feet all afternoon, intending on play fighting the children into distraction after the news of their fathers' being wounded.
By the time sun came towards the land once more and the sunset that it leeched across the sky was hovering on the brink of darkening into true dusk, Neena should have been aching all over and exhausted in both body and mind.
Instead, she was zinging with energy.
So, when she spotted one of the musicians of the tribe fixing the skin of his drum during the collective dinner that many of the tribe had sat down to enjoy, Neena's gaze brightened and her smile was a shocking white in the darkness of the approaching night.
"Play something!" Neena insisted to the man when he tapped upon the stretched skin, satisfied that his new fastenings would hold it into place. "Come on! You must test a new instrument, or you will never know its true soul." Neena teased, her tongue pressed between her teeth when the man smiled gaily back at her.
With little encouragement, the man started in with a couple of beats, playing quietly with the tips of his fingers and very edge of the ball of his palm. Neena nodded, started to sway and tap her foot in rhythm, watching the way the skilled man's fingers darted over the hide.
Finding Neena's reaction funny, the young boy next to her turned over his now empty dinner bowl and started to tap upon its apex, creating a hollow noise like the drum yielded and Neena laughed. She bit her lower lip, wiggled her head and encouraged the boy.
Quickly, others started to join in. Another few drums were found. Some of the older women started to chant and call out a classic story of bravery and strength - a herald to the bravery of the Zaire tribe in their native tongue.
Getting up from the sands, Neena encouraged the little boy next to her to rise to his feet also and then began to dance.
Performing the moves slowly and at half pace so that he got them quickly it wasn't long before Neena had the boy dancing away like a pro. She had seen folks win coin on the streets who had less talent than the little kid.
With a laugh, Neena was lost, dancing around now to her own song and spirit, her feet moving in time and her limbs moving with grace and soul. A woman used to using dance as a form of winning her own dinner, Neena was good at the art and moved with the lightest of kicks to the sands, reaching out to grab the hands of others and bring them into the merriment...
It had been one of those strange days were, by all rights, Neena should have been exhausted. And yet she was wide awake. Perhaps she was so tired that she had moved into that state of being where the energy just wouldn't disappear from your soul and the only thing you could do was to run with it and enjoy the spirit of excitement whilst you had it.
For firstly, she had spent the morning with the physicians in the healer's tents. After a brief skirmish with a pack of desert vagrants, several of the tribe had needed tending to. And with the Leierin of the tribe and several of her more experienced healers away from tribe collecting herbs and seeing to poultices, it had been all hands on deck within the hawe of healing.
Neena hadn't been permitted to actually do any of the physician work of course.
A mere slave, Neena had been assigned tasks that were appropriate for her station. Told to clean away bandages, pots that had been used for the excretions of patients and bedding that had been blood stained or sweated through. She had been the one to open all the covers when the hawe became too hot and then lower them once more when the sun changed position and they needed the shade for coolness.
In short, she had been the slave labour that she was.
And yet she had gone about it with a smile on a face and an effort to be as helpful as possible. For, while Neena could be said by some to be a rebellious sort of slave, she did not lack compassion. In fact, it was one of her strongest gifts. So, if a master of his slaved told them to complete work for the sake of work, she was one of the more difficult of their subordinates. If she was told to do something that helped someone, and aided them in their health. She was a formidable asset.
Helping here and there, assessing patients and assisting the more experienced tribal healers had been a rewarding experience and, after swallowing down some bread and a few mouthfuls of broth, Neena was given the task of caring for the children of the patients whilst their wives saw to their injured men.
Games persisted and chases ensued. Neena spent more of her time rolling in the sand than she did on her feet all afternoon, intending on play fighting the children into distraction after the news of their fathers' being wounded.
By the time sun came towards the land once more and the sunset that it leeched across the sky was hovering on the brink of darkening into true dusk, Neena should have been aching all over and exhausted in both body and mind.
Instead, she was zinging with energy.
So, when she spotted one of the musicians of the tribe fixing the skin of his drum during the collective dinner that many of the tribe had sat down to enjoy, Neena's gaze brightened and her smile was a shocking white in the darkness of the approaching night.
"Play something!" Neena insisted to the man when he tapped upon the stretched skin, satisfied that his new fastenings would hold it into place. "Come on! You must test a new instrument, or you will never know its true soul." Neena teased, her tongue pressed between her teeth when the man smiled gaily back at her.
With little encouragement, the man started in with a couple of beats, playing quietly with the tips of his fingers and very edge of the ball of his palm. Neena nodded, started to sway and tap her foot in rhythm, watching the way the skilled man's fingers darted over the hide.
Finding Neena's reaction funny, the young boy next to her turned over his now empty dinner bowl and started to tap upon its apex, creating a hollow noise like the drum yielded and Neena laughed. She bit her lower lip, wiggled her head and encouraged the boy.
Quickly, others started to join in. Another few drums were found. Some of the older women started to chant and call out a classic story of bravery and strength - a herald to the bravery of the Zaire tribe in their native tongue.
Getting up from the sands, Neena encouraged the little boy next to her to rise to his feet also and then began to dance.
Performing the moves slowly and at half pace so that he got them quickly it wasn't long before Neena had the boy dancing away like a pro. She had seen folks win coin on the streets who had less talent than the little kid.
With a laugh, Neena was lost, dancing around now to her own song and spirit, her feet moving in time and her limbs moving with grace and soul. A woman used to using dance as a form of winning her own dinner, Neena was good at the art and moved with the lightest of kicks to the sands, reaching out to grab the hands of others and bring them into the merriment...
Because she and some of the other healers had been away from camp for most of the day, Tanishe’s time had been more peaceful and fraught with less exertion. Her back was tender, as it always did from an entire day of bending down, standing up, moving, bending, squatting, cutting, bending, and her thighs ached pleasantly from having to support her as she carefully took her knife to saw at plant roots or dig the plant up altogether. She’d come back to camp, seen that the medical hawe didn’t actually need her, and seen to the task of drying and preparing the herbs and plants that they’d acquired. Seeing to cuts and bruises did not require her care especially but she did like to oversee their medicine and make sure that that was up to her standards.
By the time she was done tying plant stems together, washing and chopping up roots to dry, mixing ready to use poultices for the plants that needed to be fresh, the day had deepened into a calming gray. Tanishe rubbed her face and stretched, leaving the temporary ‘herb hawe’ that she’d had set up for the plants specifically, and walked into the coming night. No doubt Hasani would have found company and food elsewhere. Her husband knew what to expect on ‘herb day’
Rubbing the back of her neck, Tanishe smiled politely as she passed this person and that, her mind mostly on getting home and collapsing into bed, but as she passed a group of people dancing, someone grabbed her wrist and nearly jerked her off her feet, thrusting her near the middle of the dance. The world spun and Tanishe’s long, graceful limbs whirled as she both found her rhythm and tried to make sense of what had just happened to her. Calls of “Leierin!”
Tanishe wanted to get back to her tent and she wanted to stop dancing, but the sound of her name and the beat of the drums, combined with the clear desire of her tribemates to see her ‘having fun’ kept her in place. She looked around, eyes landing on Neena, and then everything became clear. Of course Neena was involved. Wherever there was a dance, story, or some other sort of noise, lately, Neena was either the instigator or participating. Not that the Zaire didn’t have stories and dances before Neena came. Of course they did, but Neena always seemed to be involved in it lately, lending to the rumors around camp that she was a dancer’s slave before she’d come here. How true that was, Tanishe didn’t know, but it fit, at least.
“I might have known,” she called to Neena over the drums.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Because she and some of the other healers had been away from camp for most of the day, Tanishe’s time had been more peaceful and fraught with less exertion. Her back was tender, as it always did from an entire day of bending down, standing up, moving, bending, squatting, cutting, bending, and her thighs ached pleasantly from having to support her as she carefully took her knife to saw at plant roots or dig the plant up altogether. She’d come back to camp, seen that the medical hawe didn’t actually need her, and seen to the task of drying and preparing the herbs and plants that they’d acquired. Seeing to cuts and bruises did not require her care especially but she did like to oversee their medicine and make sure that that was up to her standards.
By the time she was done tying plant stems together, washing and chopping up roots to dry, mixing ready to use poultices for the plants that needed to be fresh, the day had deepened into a calming gray. Tanishe rubbed her face and stretched, leaving the temporary ‘herb hawe’ that she’d had set up for the plants specifically, and walked into the coming night. No doubt Hasani would have found company and food elsewhere. Her husband knew what to expect on ‘herb day’
Rubbing the back of her neck, Tanishe smiled politely as she passed this person and that, her mind mostly on getting home and collapsing into bed, but as she passed a group of people dancing, someone grabbed her wrist and nearly jerked her off her feet, thrusting her near the middle of the dance. The world spun and Tanishe’s long, graceful limbs whirled as she both found her rhythm and tried to make sense of what had just happened to her. Calls of “Leierin!”
Tanishe wanted to get back to her tent and she wanted to stop dancing, but the sound of her name and the beat of the drums, combined with the clear desire of her tribemates to see her ‘having fun’ kept her in place. She looked around, eyes landing on Neena, and then everything became clear. Of course Neena was involved. Wherever there was a dance, story, or some other sort of noise, lately, Neena was either the instigator or participating. Not that the Zaire didn’t have stories and dances before Neena came. Of course they did, but Neena always seemed to be involved in it lately, lending to the rumors around camp that she was a dancer’s slave before she’d come here. How true that was, Tanishe didn’t know, but it fit, at least.
“I might have known,” she called to Neena over the drums.
Because she and some of the other healers had been away from camp for most of the day, Tanishe’s time had been more peaceful and fraught with less exertion. Her back was tender, as it always did from an entire day of bending down, standing up, moving, bending, squatting, cutting, bending, and her thighs ached pleasantly from having to support her as she carefully took her knife to saw at plant roots or dig the plant up altogether. She’d come back to camp, seen that the medical hawe didn’t actually need her, and seen to the task of drying and preparing the herbs and plants that they’d acquired. Seeing to cuts and bruises did not require her care especially but she did like to oversee their medicine and make sure that that was up to her standards.
By the time she was done tying plant stems together, washing and chopping up roots to dry, mixing ready to use poultices for the plants that needed to be fresh, the day had deepened into a calming gray. Tanishe rubbed her face and stretched, leaving the temporary ‘herb hawe’ that she’d had set up for the plants specifically, and walked into the coming night. No doubt Hasani would have found company and food elsewhere. Her husband knew what to expect on ‘herb day’
Rubbing the back of her neck, Tanishe smiled politely as she passed this person and that, her mind mostly on getting home and collapsing into bed, but as she passed a group of people dancing, someone grabbed her wrist and nearly jerked her off her feet, thrusting her near the middle of the dance. The world spun and Tanishe’s long, graceful limbs whirled as she both found her rhythm and tried to make sense of what had just happened to her. Calls of “Leierin!”
Tanishe wanted to get back to her tent and she wanted to stop dancing, but the sound of her name and the beat of the drums, combined with the clear desire of her tribemates to see her ‘having fun’ kept her in place. She looked around, eyes landing on Neena, and then everything became clear. Of course Neena was involved. Wherever there was a dance, story, or some other sort of noise, lately, Neena was either the instigator or participating. Not that the Zaire didn’t have stories and dances before Neena came. Of course they did, but Neena always seemed to be involved in it lately, lending to the rumors around camp that she was a dancer’s slave before she’d come here. How true that was, Tanishe didn’t know, but it fit, at least.
“I might have known,” she called to Neena over the drums.
As she danced, whirled and encouraged others to join the festivities of music and song, Neena's actions of taking hands and bringing others into the noise and excitement was mimicked by others. More and more were brought in, either to danced lightly across the sands, or to play music or lend their voices to the song. No-one was left on the side lines and not included.
That was Neena's gift. It was not the way she told stories or the way she danced or the manner in which she completed any number of the basic skills she possessed. It wasn't the act of dancing that was exciting others into a party mood. It was the way in which she encouraged each and every person to feel as if they were her nearest and dearest - the most special in her company. When a young woman joined in with the voices, Neena looked towards her, her hand pressed over her chest and her eyes closed with a sense of rapture at the new voice to join the chorus. When someone added a new percussion to the beat of the tune, Neena turned and mimicked the hitting of a drum and jumped to the beat to let them know she was listening. If someone joined the dance, Neena would mimic their movements, allowing them the spotlight of being teacher to her.
In Neena's company, everyone was special, everyone was loved. And everyone loved her in return.
Distracted by others in the moment that the Leierin joined in the fun, it wasn't until the woman spoke and Neena spun at the sound of a familiar voice, her lips parting in her largest smile of the evening. She knew the woman - not well, but well enough - to have the greatest of desires to see her unwind. So serious, so dignified... with Tanishe now in the centre of purely hedonistic fun, Neena could not resist the spark of curiosity blossoming in her heart and burning hot with the eagerness to see the elegant Queen of the Zaire people let loose.
Reading Tanishe's lips more than she heard the words that left them, Neena's grin was broad and sparkling in the dusky hours. She flattened a hand upon her collarbone and over her heart in a gesture of mock offense or shock. Her eyes were teasing as she called back.
"Are you saying I have a reputation, Your Blessedness?" She called out, her feet still keeping rhythm and her limbs spinning in an elegant turn that brought her closer to the woman. She still had to raise her voice to be heard over the noise of the music, but she no longer needed to holler. "I cannot tell whether I should be pleased or offended, my Lady!"
Dancing now a few steps away from Leierin Tanishe, Neena opened her arms wide, curling them before her and gesturing with her fingers for the Queen to join her in the abandon of dance.
"Come, my Lady..." She encouraged, her teeth bright white in a face that had grown dusky with the warmth of exertion. "It is good to end the day with a message to the soul, is it not?" She spun on the spot, her arms above her head and then started a simple step of switching from foot to foot, the lifted limb crossing over the other. She performed the routine a few times slower than the beat permitted before the Queen, offering her the chance to mimic and follow...
By now, a large number of the tribe were watching, surprised at the ease with which a slave girl addressed their ruler's wife yet too lost in the merriment to mind the break with etiquette. Instead, their eyes were bright and eager for a woman they all respected to join them in the festivities that were over nothing but simple joy...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As she danced, whirled and encouraged others to join the festivities of music and song, Neena's actions of taking hands and bringing others into the noise and excitement was mimicked by others. More and more were brought in, either to danced lightly across the sands, or to play music or lend their voices to the song. No-one was left on the side lines and not included.
That was Neena's gift. It was not the way she told stories or the way she danced or the manner in which she completed any number of the basic skills she possessed. It wasn't the act of dancing that was exciting others into a party mood. It was the way in which she encouraged each and every person to feel as if they were her nearest and dearest - the most special in her company. When a young woman joined in with the voices, Neena looked towards her, her hand pressed over her chest and her eyes closed with a sense of rapture at the new voice to join the chorus. When someone added a new percussion to the beat of the tune, Neena turned and mimicked the hitting of a drum and jumped to the beat to let them know she was listening. If someone joined the dance, Neena would mimic their movements, allowing them the spotlight of being teacher to her.
In Neena's company, everyone was special, everyone was loved. And everyone loved her in return.
Distracted by others in the moment that the Leierin joined in the fun, it wasn't until the woman spoke and Neena spun at the sound of a familiar voice, her lips parting in her largest smile of the evening. She knew the woman - not well, but well enough - to have the greatest of desires to see her unwind. So serious, so dignified... with Tanishe now in the centre of purely hedonistic fun, Neena could not resist the spark of curiosity blossoming in her heart and burning hot with the eagerness to see the elegant Queen of the Zaire people let loose.
Reading Tanishe's lips more than she heard the words that left them, Neena's grin was broad and sparkling in the dusky hours. She flattened a hand upon her collarbone and over her heart in a gesture of mock offense or shock. Her eyes were teasing as she called back.
"Are you saying I have a reputation, Your Blessedness?" She called out, her feet still keeping rhythm and her limbs spinning in an elegant turn that brought her closer to the woman. She still had to raise her voice to be heard over the noise of the music, but she no longer needed to holler. "I cannot tell whether I should be pleased or offended, my Lady!"
Dancing now a few steps away from Leierin Tanishe, Neena opened her arms wide, curling them before her and gesturing with her fingers for the Queen to join her in the abandon of dance.
"Come, my Lady..." She encouraged, her teeth bright white in a face that had grown dusky with the warmth of exertion. "It is good to end the day with a message to the soul, is it not?" She spun on the spot, her arms above her head and then started a simple step of switching from foot to foot, the lifted limb crossing over the other. She performed the routine a few times slower than the beat permitted before the Queen, offering her the chance to mimic and follow...
By now, a large number of the tribe were watching, surprised at the ease with which a slave girl addressed their ruler's wife yet too lost in the merriment to mind the break with etiquette. Instead, their eyes were bright and eager for a woman they all respected to join them in the festivities that were over nothing but simple joy...
As she danced, whirled and encouraged others to join the festivities of music and song, Neena's actions of taking hands and bringing others into the noise and excitement was mimicked by others. More and more were brought in, either to danced lightly across the sands, or to play music or lend their voices to the song. No-one was left on the side lines and not included.
That was Neena's gift. It was not the way she told stories or the way she danced or the manner in which she completed any number of the basic skills she possessed. It wasn't the act of dancing that was exciting others into a party mood. It was the way in which she encouraged each and every person to feel as if they were her nearest and dearest - the most special in her company. When a young woman joined in with the voices, Neena looked towards her, her hand pressed over her chest and her eyes closed with a sense of rapture at the new voice to join the chorus. When someone added a new percussion to the beat of the tune, Neena turned and mimicked the hitting of a drum and jumped to the beat to let them know she was listening. If someone joined the dance, Neena would mimic their movements, allowing them the spotlight of being teacher to her.
In Neena's company, everyone was special, everyone was loved. And everyone loved her in return.
Distracted by others in the moment that the Leierin joined in the fun, it wasn't until the woman spoke and Neena spun at the sound of a familiar voice, her lips parting in her largest smile of the evening. She knew the woman - not well, but well enough - to have the greatest of desires to see her unwind. So serious, so dignified... with Tanishe now in the centre of purely hedonistic fun, Neena could not resist the spark of curiosity blossoming in her heart and burning hot with the eagerness to see the elegant Queen of the Zaire people let loose.
Reading Tanishe's lips more than she heard the words that left them, Neena's grin was broad and sparkling in the dusky hours. She flattened a hand upon her collarbone and over her heart in a gesture of mock offense or shock. Her eyes were teasing as she called back.
"Are you saying I have a reputation, Your Blessedness?" She called out, her feet still keeping rhythm and her limbs spinning in an elegant turn that brought her closer to the woman. She still had to raise her voice to be heard over the noise of the music, but she no longer needed to holler. "I cannot tell whether I should be pleased or offended, my Lady!"
Dancing now a few steps away from Leierin Tanishe, Neena opened her arms wide, curling them before her and gesturing with her fingers for the Queen to join her in the abandon of dance.
"Come, my Lady..." She encouraged, her teeth bright white in a face that had grown dusky with the warmth of exertion. "It is good to end the day with a message to the soul, is it not?" She spun on the spot, her arms above her head and then started a simple step of switching from foot to foot, the lifted limb crossing over the other. She performed the routine a few times slower than the beat permitted before the Queen, offering her the chance to mimic and follow...
By now, a large number of the tribe were watching, surprised at the ease with which a slave girl addressed their ruler's wife yet too lost in the merriment to mind the break with etiquette. Instead, their eyes were bright and eager for a woman they all respected to join them in the festivities that were over nothing but simple joy...
Neena’s feigned offense earned a returning mock of narrowing eyes and pursed lips from the tribe’s Leierin. Tanishe wasn’t still enough to place her hands on her hips or even lean back a little and tuck her chin down to pin Neena with a more meaningful false glare. Her feet moved in a smooth glide across the fine dirt, kicking up curls of silver dust in the failing light. The group moved in tandem, sometimes forming three circles of bodies around the fire, one inside the other, then weaving in and out through each other’s arms so that each group made their way closer or further from the fire, as the dance required, until the circles broke apart and the dancers paired up for a few turns, only to make the circles again in a never ending, fluid rotation of comforting sameness. It was a bit like life, in that way. Different partners, different times, but always the same rules applied. It meant that what happened before would happen again and what happened now would happen in future.
As she and Neena spun closer together, Neena called out “I cannot tell whether I should be pleased or offended, my Lady!”
“Offended!” Tanishe’s voice was lost beneath the pulsing of the drums and the jangling of tambourines. Tanishe’s own bangles added to the music as she moved in the graceful arcs of the dance, but here, again, was Neena, dancing to her own beat and Tanishe found herself stopping just outside of the innermost circle, watching Neena performing her own dance, apart from most of the rest. Tanishe was not the only woman to stop, but she was the only one right across from Neena. Her eyes followed the delicate movements of Neena’s arms, sliding down to the girl’s hips and further towards her feet, taking in the way she danced and noting it was far too slow for the drums.
“Come, my Lady...It is good to end the day with a message to the soul, is it not?”
“That is a poetic way to put it,” Tanishe agreed, mirroring the dance. Her smile was brief and her brows knit together as she concentrated on what Neena was doing. Letting her own arms drift into the air, she adopted the same posture, swaying as Neena swayed, stepping as Neena stepped, letting her body glide almost like ripples on water. She imagined she was a cloud, floating along, heedless of the chaotic world below. She was closer now and her voice was much less likely to be lost in the music.
Tanishe did not pay attention to the circle slowing down as people watched them. She wasn’t self conscious enough to pay it much mind and, after all, these were her people. These were men and women she’d known from birth. People who had swatted her away from their campfires when she was young, whom she had nursed back to health in her time, some of these tribe members her own age whom she called friends. This tribe was her family and she was not high above them in the way that some queens could be. It wasn’t possible to be aloof in the desert and Tanishe had never known any other way to behave, except to embrace the community of which she helped preserve as and when Hasani asked her to.
Tanishe was not an unable dancer. She soon learned the dance enough to increase the speed on her own and laughed a little, the expression of deep concentration softening as she imbued her movements with the rhythm. “Come, Neena,” she said lightly, curving her hips side to side, adding her own flare for the other to mimic. “You are not the only one who can dance for the ancestors.” Her voice was still soft, holding the tiniest bit of mocking, laced with encouraging the banter. She wanted Neena as integrated into the tribe as she could be. With her fatigue forgotten at the moment, Tanishe whirled gracefully around, throwing Neena another look over her shoulder as she curled her hands against her hips and arched her back.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Neena’s feigned offense earned a returning mock of narrowing eyes and pursed lips from the tribe’s Leierin. Tanishe wasn’t still enough to place her hands on her hips or even lean back a little and tuck her chin down to pin Neena with a more meaningful false glare. Her feet moved in a smooth glide across the fine dirt, kicking up curls of silver dust in the failing light. The group moved in tandem, sometimes forming three circles of bodies around the fire, one inside the other, then weaving in and out through each other’s arms so that each group made their way closer or further from the fire, as the dance required, until the circles broke apart and the dancers paired up for a few turns, only to make the circles again in a never ending, fluid rotation of comforting sameness. It was a bit like life, in that way. Different partners, different times, but always the same rules applied. It meant that what happened before would happen again and what happened now would happen in future.
As she and Neena spun closer together, Neena called out “I cannot tell whether I should be pleased or offended, my Lady!”
“Offended!” Tanishe’s voice was lost beneath the pulsing of the drums and the jangling of tambourines. Tanishe’s own bangles added to the music as she moved in the graceful arcs of the dance, but here, again, was Neena, dancing to her own beat and Tanishe found herself stopping just outside of the innermost circle, watching Neena performing her own dance, apart from most of the rest. Tanishe was not the only woman to stop, but she was the only one right across from Neena. Her eyes followed the delicate movements of Neena’s arms, sliding down to the girl’s hips and further towards her feet, taking in the way she danced and noting it was far too slow for the drums.
“Come, my Lady...It is good to end the day with a message to the soul, is it not?”
“That is a poetic way to put it,” Tanishe agreed, mirroring the dance. Her smile was brief and her brows knit together as she concentrated on what Neena was doing. Letting her own arms drift into the air, she adopted the same posture, swaying as Neena swayed, stepping as Neena stepped, letting her body glide almost like ripples on water. She imagined she was a cloud, floating along, heedless of the chaotic world below. She was closer now and her voice was much less likely to be lost in the music.
Tanishe did not pay attention to the circle slowing down as people watched them. She wasn’t self conscious enough to pay it much mind and, after all, these were her people. These were men and women she’d known from birth. People who had swatted her away from their campfires when she was young, whom she had nursed back to health in her time, some of these tribe members her own age whom she called friends. This tribe was her family and she was not high above them in the way that some queens could be. It wasn’t possible to be aloof in the desert and Tanishe had never known any other way to behave, except to embrace the community of which she helped preserve as and when Hasani asked her to.
Tanishe was not an unable dancer. She soon learned the dance enough to increase the speed on her own and laughed a little, the expression of deep concentration softening as she imbued her movements with the rhythm. “Come, Neena,” she said lightly, curving her hips side to side, adding her own flare for the other to mimic. “You are not the only one who can dance for the ancestors.” Her voice was still soft, holding the tiniest bit of mocking, laced with encouraging the banter. She wanted Neena as integrated into the tribe as she could be. With her fatigue forgotten at the moment, Tanishe whirled gracefully around, throwing Neena another look over her shoulder as she curled her hands against her hips and arched her back.
Neena’s feigned offense earned a returning mock of narrowing eyes and pursed lips from the tribe’s Leierin. Tanishe wasn’t still enough to place her hands on her hips or even lean back a little and tuck her chin down to pin Neena with a more meaningful false glare. Her feet moved in a smooth glide across the fine dirt, kicking up curls of silver dust in the failing light. The group moved in tandem, sometimes forming three circles of bodies around the fire, one inside the other, then weaving in and out through each other’s arms so that each group made their way closer or further from the fire, as the dance required, until the circles broke apart and the dancers paired up for a few turns, only to make the circles again in a never ending, fluid rotation of comforting sameness. It was a bit like life, in that way. Different partners, different times, but always the same rules applied. It meant that what happened before would happen again and what happened now would happen in future.
As she and Neena spun closer together, Neena called out “I cannot tell whether I should be pleased or offended, my Lady!”
“Offended!” Tanishe’s voice was lost beneath the pulsing of the drums and the jangling of tambourines. Tanishe’s own bangles added to the music as she moved in the graceful arcs of the dance, but here, again, was Neena, dancing to her own beat and Tanishe found herself stopping just outside of the innermost circle, watching Neena performing her own dance, apart from most of the rest. Tanishe was not the only woman to stop, but she was the only one right across from Neena. Her eyes followed the delicate movements of Neena’s arms, sliding down to the girl’s hips and further towards her feet, taking in the way she danced and noting it was far too slow for the drums.
“Come, my Lady...It is good to end the day with a message to the soul, is it not?”
“That is a poetic way to put it,” Tanishe agreed, mirroring the dance. Her smile was brief and her brows knit together as she concentrated on what Neena was doing. Letting her own arms drift into the air, she adopted the same posture, swaying as Neena swayed, stepping as Neena stepped, letting her body glide almost like ripples on water. She imagined she was a cloud, floating along, heedless of the chaotic world below. She was closer now and her voice was much less likely to be lost in the music.
Tanishe did not pay attention to the circle slowing down as people watched them. She wasn’t self conscious enough to pay it much mind and, after all, these were her people. These were men and women she’d known from birth. People who had swatted her away from their campfires when she was young, whom she had nursed back to health in her time, some of these tribe members her own age whom she called friends. This tribe was her family and she was not high above them in the way that some queens could be. It wasn’t possible to be aloof in the desert and Tanishe had never known any other way to behave, except to embrace the community of which she helped preserve as and when Hasani asked her to.
Tanishe was not an unable dancer. She soon learned the dance enough to increase the speed on her own and laughed a little, the expression of deep concentration softening as she imbued her movements with the rhythm. “Come, Neena,” she said lightly, curving her hips side to side, adding her own flare for the other to mimic. “You are not the only one who can dance for the ancestors.” Her voice was still soft, holding the tiniest bit of mocking, laced with encouraging the banter. She wanted Neena as integrated into the tribe as she could be. With her fatigue forgotten at the moment, Tanishe whirled gracefully around, throwing Neena another look over her shoulder as she curled her hands against her hips and arched her back.
Neena's smile didn't seem able to get any bigger as the Leierin of their people decided to join in with the celebrations. She danced and weaved and collated herself as a part of the whole, moving in and out of the circles in the perfect way that she should. Neena watched her as the lady of grace and poise showed that she also had rhythm and fluidity in her bones.
When the Leierin took Neena upon her offer of mimicking her and becoming her reflected image, her own limbs breaking down the movements into slower replications, easier to follow, the lovely Leierin didn't hesitate. She took up the mantel of challenge and danced in return.
Tanishe was built on different lines to Neena. Where Neena was small and strong of frame, Tanishe was taller and more willowy. Where Neena danced with power, emotion and chaotic energy, Tanishe moved with an elegant swirl and softness. As she picked up on the dance, her limbs moved faster her quick mind and clever feet ensuring she never lost her alacrity for dance, no matter how challenging it became.
Challenge because the word of the evening. For Tanishe's face was covered in it as she danced towards Neena, her gaze bright and her smile holding just that smallest amount of arrogance that drew others in to try to topple it. Neena was already beaming.
'Come Neena... You are not the only one who can dance for the ancestors.'
And so, it was true! Tanishe whirled and spun and stamped upon the golden earth with all the practice of a woman who had been honouring her ancestors for many a year. She glanced towards Neena as she placed her hands against her hips and arched her back.
Neena mimicked the movement, now playing reflection to the Leierin. She followed with the same steps, mimicked her movements and then was pleased when everything escalated.
Neena looked around and spotted three little girls, sisters, giggling together. She smiled and winked at them.
"I think Her Blessedness is challenging me!" She called in a stage whisper that had her face turning into an exaggerated mask of fear.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Neena's smile didn't seem able to get any bigger as the Leierin of their people decided to join in with the celebrations. She danced and weaved and collated herself as a part of the whole, moving in and out of the circles in the perfect way that she should. Neena watched her as the lady of grace and poise showed that she also had rhythm and fluidity in her bones.
When the Leierin took Neena upon her offer of mimicking her and becoming her reflected image, her own limbs breaking down the movements into slower replications, easier to follow, the lovely Leierin didn't hesitate. She took up the mantel of challenge and danced in return.
Tanishe was built on different lines to Neena. Where Neena was small and strong of frame, Tanishe was taller and more willowy. Where Neena danced with power, emotion and chaotic energy, Tanishe moved with an elegant swirl and softness. As she picked up on the dance, her limbs moved faster her quick mind and clever feet ensuring she never lost her alacrity for dance, no matter how challenging it became.
Challenge because the word of the evening. For Tanishe's face was covered in it as she danced towards Neena, her gaze bright and her smile holding just that smallest amount of arrogance that drew others in to try to topple it. Neena was already beaming.
'Come Neena... You are not the only one who can dance for the ancestors.'
And so, it was true! Tanishe whirled and spun and stamped upon the golden earth with all the practice of a woman who had been honouring her ancestors for many a year. She glanced towards Neena as she placed her hands against her hips and arched her back.
Neena mimicked the movement, now playing reflection to the Leierin. She followed with the same steps, mimicked her movements and then was pleased when everything escalated.
Neena looked around and spotted three little girls, sisters, giggling together. She smiled and winked at them.
"I think Her Blessedness is challenging me!" She called in a stage whisper that had her face turning into an exaggerated mask of fear.
Neena's smile didn't seem able to get any bigger as the Leierin of their people decided to join in with the celebrations. She danced and weaved and collated herself as a part of the whole, moving in and out of the circles in the perfect way that she should. Neena watched her as the lady of grace and poise showed that she also had rhythm and fluidity in her bones.
When the Leierin took Neena upon her offer of mimicking her and becoming her reflected image, her own limbs breaking down the movements into slower replications, easier to follow, the lovely Leierin didn't hesitate. She took up the mantel of challenge and danced in return.
Tanishe was built on different lines to Neena. Where Neena was small and strong of frame, Tanishe was taller and more willowy. Where Neena danced with power, emotion and chaotic energy, Tanishe moved with an elegant swirl and softness. As she picked up on the dance, her limbs moved faster her quick mind and clever feet ensuring she never lost her alacrity for dance, no matter how challenging it became.
Challenge because the word of the evening. For Tanishe's face was covered in it as she danced towards Neena, her gaze bright and her smile holding just that smallest amount of arrogance that drew others in to try to topple it. Neena was already beaming.
'Come Neena... You are not the only one who can dance for the ancestors.'
And so, it was true! Tanishe whirled and spun and stamped upon the golden earth with all the practice of a woman who had been honouring her ancestors for many a year. She glanced towards Neena as she placed her hands against her hips and arched her back.
Neena mimicked the movement, now playing reflection to the Leierin. She followed with the same steps, mimicked her movements and then was pleased when everything escalated.
Neena looked around and spotted three little girls, sisters, giggling together. She smiled and winked at them.
"I think Her Blessedness is challenging me!" She called in a stage whisper that had her face turning into an exaggerated mask of fear.
Neena’s movements were beautiful and fanciful - enough for Tanishe to be just a touch envious of her. Her own movements weren’t lacking but she did not have the kind of rhythm that was anything out of the ordinary. She was capable and that was all. Her primary skills lay elsewhere. As the drums pounded and the lilting music of the instruments rose into the air, Tanishe found herself eventually forgetting that she was only perfunctory. Dancing was a way for nearly anyone to lose themselves in the moment and she was no exception.
A small laugh escaped as Neena loudly whispered to the three little girls about the challenge. It was all in good fun, of course, but Tanishe played along, making sure to look as serious as such a challenge required. Children could always be relied upon for a game and the girls swarmed up with relish, wishing not only to join in, but to be the ones to issue which dances Neena and Tanishe should perform.
This went on long enough that even Tanishe was growing breathless by the end. She drifted over to Neena and draped an arm around the other’s slender shoulders, pulling her away from their miniature tormentors. “A drink,” she panted, her smile wan but her eyes sparkling. The offer of a drink wasn’t really optional and she tugged Neena over to a communal table where a jug of camel milk sat for the taking.
The milk had a delicious nutty flavor to it and was better than goat milk, in Tanishe’s opinion. Goat milk was too tangy and sharp on its own, but she liked the cheese well enough. Handing Neena a small clay cup, she eyed her as she took small sips. “You are beautiful when you dance,” she observed. “Where did you learn? Or do you make up your movements on the spot?”
Amazingly, there were still people circling the fire. One of them was one of the oldest members of the tribe but when the old man wanted to dance, there was no stopping him. Tanishe was pretty sure that one day he would be dancing and he’d drop dead right there - happy to meet the ancestors with his feet still moving. Her attention remained on him while she waited for Neena to answer.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Neena’s movements were beautiful and fanciful - enough for Tanishe to be just a touch envious of her. Her own movements weren’t lacking but she did not have the kind of rhythm that was anything out of the ordinary. She was capable and that was all. Her primary skills lay elsewhere. As the drums pounded and the lilting music of the instruments rose into the air, Tanishe found herself eventually forgetting that she was only perfunctory. Dancing was a way for nearly anyone to lose themselves in the moment and she was no exception.
A small laugh escaped as Neena loudly whispered to the three little girls about the challenge. It was all in good fun, of course, but Tanishe played along, making sure to look as serious as such a challenge required. Children could always be relied upon for a game and the girls swarmed up with relish, wishing not only to join in, but to be the ones to issue which dances Neena and Tanishe should perform.
This went on long enough that even Tanishe was growing breathless by the end. She drifted over to Neena and draped an arm around the other’s slender shoulders, pulling her away from their miniature tormentors. “A drink,” she panted, her smile wan but her eyes sparkling. The offer of a drink wasn’t really optional and she tugged Neena over to a communal table where a jug of camel milk sat for the taking.
The milk had a delicious nutty flavor to it and was better than goat milk, in Tanishe’s opinion. Goat milk was too tangy and sharp on its own, but she liked the cheese well enough. Handing Neena a small clay cup, she eyed her as she took small sips. “You are beautiful when you dance,” she observed. “Where did you learn? Or do you make up your movements on the spot?”
Amazingly, there were still people circling the fire. One of them was one of the oldest members of the tribe but when the old man wanted to dance, there was no stopping him. Tanishe was pretty sure that one day he would be dancing and he’d drop dead right there - happy to meet the ancestors with his feet still moving. Her attention remained on him while she waited for Neena to answer.
Neena’s movements were beautiful and fanciful - enough for Tanishe to be just a touch envious of her. Her own movements weren’t lacking but she did not have the kind of rhythm that was anything out of the ordinary. She was capable and that was all. Her primary skills lay elsewhere. As the drums pounded and the lilting music of the instruments rose into the air, Tanishe found herself eventually forgetting that she was only perfunctory. Dancing was a way for nearly anyone to lose themselves in the moment and she was no exception.
A small laugh escaped as Neena loudly whispered to the three little girls about the challenge. It was all in good fun, of course, but Tanishe played along, making sure to look as serious as such a challenge required. Children could always be relied upon for a game and the girls swarmed up with relish, wishing not only to join in, but to be the ones to issue which dances Neena and Tanishe should perform.
This went on long enough that even Tanishe was growing breathless by the end. She drifted over to Neena and draped an arm around the other’s slender shoulders, pulling her away from their miniature tormentors. “A drink,” she panted, her smile wan but her eyes sparkling. The offer of a drink wasn’t really optional and she tugged Neena over to a communal table where a jug of camel milk sat for the taking.
The milk had a delicious nutty flavor to it and was better than goat milk, in Tanishe’s opinion. Goat milk was too tangy and sharp on its own, but she liked the cheese well enough. Handing Neena a small clay cup, she eyed her as she took small sips. “You are beautiful when you dance,” she observed. “Where did you learn? Or do you make up your movements on the spot?”
Amazingly, there were still people circling the fire. One of them was one of the oldest members of the tribe but when the old man wanted to dance, there was no stopping him. Tanishe was pretty sure that one day he would be dancing and he’d drop dead right there - happy to meet the ancestors with his feet still moving. Her attention remained on him while she waited for Neena to answer.