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Tanishe was like most human beings, in that she liked the company of her husband and her sister wife. What she wasn’t comfortable with was putting all of that on display in front of a stranger and in front of Mwenye. She’d been about to excuse herself from the group entirely when a resounding crash made her pause in confusion and look around to see where the sound came from. They stood in a wide alley made up of ramshackle stalls. It wasn’t as though there was terribly much to see in either direction, or in the little off shoots. But because the line wasn’t exactly straight, and curved a little bit away from where they were standing, she didn’t immediately see the source of the noise.
Seconds later, her eyes widened. Barreling toward them was a sight that defied comprehension; a camel, being chased by the flapping fabric roof of a stall, dragging a beam, and its herd behind it. “Move!” she cried, pushing bodies, and quite literally slamming body first into Mwenye as she darted away. “Move!” there wasn’t time to say more than that. Tanishe blindly grabbed whoever’s arm on either side that happened to be closest to her, dragging them with her to vault over the side of the nearest vendor’s stall.
Because of the way the stalls were set up, the camels were being forced into a kind of funnel. If she could just get herself and those she loved out of the way, hopefully the herd wouldn’t spread out, with so many obstacles in the way. After all, animals, like humans, took the path of least resistance. Her voice barely made it above the den. People were running and screaming and the animals were making a terrible roukus.
She skidded across the top of one of the stalls and landed hip first on the hard packed sandy ground, but she rolled up to a half crouch and launched herself forward, trying to get away.
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Nov 16, 2019 2:36:14 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Nov 16, 2019 2:36:14 GMT
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Tanishe was like most human beings, in that she liked the company of her husband and her sister wife. What she wasn’t comfortable with was putting all of that on display in front of a stranger and in front of Mwenye. She’d been about to excuse herself from the group entirely when a resounding crash made her pause in confusion and look around to see where the sound came from. They stood in a wide alley made up of ramshackle stalls. It wasn’t as though there was terribly much to see in either direction, or in the little off shoots. But because the line wasn’t exactly straight, and curved a little bit away from where they were standing, she didn’t immediately see the source of the noise.
Seconds later, her eyes widened. Barreling toward them was a sight that defied comprehension; a camel, being chased by the flapping fabric roof of a stall, dragging a beam, and its herd behind it. “Move!” she cried, pushing bodies, and quite literally slamming body first into Mwenye as she darted away. “Move!” there wasn’t time to say more than that. Tanishe blindly grabbed whoever’s arm on either side that happened to be closest to her, dragging them with her to vault over the side of the nearest vendor’s stall.
Because of the way the stalls were set up, the camels were being forced into a kind of funnel. If she could just get herself and those she loved out of the way, hopefully the herd wouldn’t spread out, with so many obstacles in the way. After all, animals, like humans, took the path of least resistance. Her voice barely made it above the den. People were running and screaming and the animals were making a terrible roukus.
She skidded across the top of one of the stalls and landed hip first on the hard packed sandy ground, but she rolled up to a half crouch and launched herself forward, trying to get away.
Tanishe was like most human beings, in that she liked the company of her husband and her sister wife. What she wasn’t comfortable with was putting all of that on display in front of a stranger and in front of Mwenye. She’d been about to excuse herself from the group entirely when a resounding crash made her pause in confusion and look around to see where the sound came from. They stood in a wide alley made up of ramshackle stalls. It wasn’t as though there was terribly much to see in either direction, or in the little off shoots. But because the line wasn’t exactly straight, and curved a little bit away from where they were standing, she didn’t immediately see the source of the noise.
Seconds later, her eyes widened. Barreling toward them was a sight that defied comprehension; a camel, being chased by the flapping fabric roof of a stall, dragging a beam, and its herd behind it. “Move!” she cried, pushing bodies, and quite literally slamming body first into Mwenye as she darted away. “Move!” there wasn’t time to say more than that. Tanishe blindly grabbed whoever’s arm on either side that happened to be closest to her, dragging them with her to vault over the side of the nearest vendor’s stall.
Because of the way the stalls were set up, the camels were being forced into a kind of funnel. If she could just get herself and those she loved out of the way, hopefully the herd wouldn’t spread out, with so many obstacles in the way. After all, animals, like humans, took the path of least resistance. Her voice barely made it above the den. People were running and screaming and the animals were making a terrible roukus.
She skidded across the top of one of the stalls and landed hip first on the hard packed sandy ground, but she rolled up to a half crouch and launched herself forward, trying to get away.
Neena was just as quick to notice the danger as her sister wife. The only two differences were her experience and her size.
Firstly, her vision and instincts picked up the chaos that was coming there way and she turned her head, her mouth still inelegantly full of flatbread and her eyes wide. She was patting at Hasani's shoulder to get his attention, Tanishe on his other side clearly aware of the issue too.
However, Neena's experience of camels were only as slow, plodding things that could hardly result in any kind if danger and stopped at the first show of force or resistance. From her angle, she couldn't see the hulking piece of wooden beam it dragged behind itself.
Secondly, Neena was athletic and agile but not in this situation and in these clothes. Not with her size against her.
Whilst Tanishe was strong and elegant in her powerful shape, Neena was small and pixielike. Were she wearing her normally little sprite tunic, she would have danced out of the path of the oncoming animals - perhaps hop, skip and a jumped onto the top of a stall awning or behind a seller's table as Tanishe was quick to do.
Unfortunately, with her limited height and diminutive frame, Neena was swamped in the royal layers and garb of her new station as Hasani's wife. And, as the crowds panicked and darted out of the way, Neena was shoved by an elbow of unknown origin, forcing her to dart two steps backwards. The heels of her feet caught on the backs of her robes and she planted her butt to the ground in a painful thump that was followed by her back making a similar sound with the earth.
Stunned a little, with eyes tightened hard against the flying sand and the bruising pain. It was a second before Neena opened her eyes and began to sit up. One hand reached for her back where it smarted from the impact but froze as she realised her trip had put her right in the path of the oncoming stampede.
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Nov 19, 2019 21:38:02 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Nov 19, 2019 21:38:02 GMT
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Neena was just as quick to notice the danger as her sister wife. The only two differences were her experience and her size.
Firstly, her vision and instincts picked up the chaos that was coming there way and she turned her head, her mouth still inelegantly full of flatbread and her eyes wide. She was patting at Hasani's shoulder to get his attention, Tanishe on his other side clearly aware of the issue too.
However, Neena's experience of camels were only as slow, plodding things that could hardly result in any kind if danger and stopped at the first show of force or resistance. From her angle, she couldn't see the hulking piece of wooden beam it dragged behind itself.
Secondly, Neena was athletic and agile but not in this situation and in these clothes. Not with her size against her.
Whilst Tanishe was strong and elegant in her powerful shape, Neena was small and pixielike. Were she wearing her normally little sprite tunic, she would have danced out of the path of the oncoming animals - perhaps hop, skip and a jumped onto the top of a stall awning or behind a seller's table as Tanishe was quick to do.
Unfortunately, with her limited height and diminutive frame, Neena was swamped in the royal layers and garb of her new station as Hasani's wife. And, as the crowds panicked and darted out of the way, Neena was shoved by an elbow of unknown origin, forcing her to dart two steps backwards. The heels of her feet caught on the backs of her robes and she planted her butt to the ground in a painful thump that was followed by her back making a similar sound with the earth.
Stunned a little, with eyes tightened hard against the flying sand and the bruising pain. It was a second before Neena opened her eyes and began to sit up. One hand reached for her back where it smarted from the impact but froze as she realised her trip had put her right in the path of the oncoming stampede.
Neena was just as quick to notice the danger as her sister wife. The only two differences were her experience and her size.
Firstly, her vision and instincts picked up the chaos that was coming there way and she turned her head, her mouth still inelegantly full of flatbread and her eyes wide. She was patting at Hasani's shoulder to get his attention, Tanishe on his other side clearly aware of the issue too.
However, Neena's experience of camels were only as slow, plodding things that could hardly result in any kind if danger and stopped at the first show of force or resistance. From her angle, she couldn't see the hulking piece of wooden beam it dragged behind itself.
Secondly, Neena was athletic and agile but not in this situation and in these clothes. Not with her size against her.
Whilst Tanishe was strong and elegant in her powerful shape, Neena was small and pixielike. Were she wearing her normally little sprite tunic, she would have danced out of the path of the oncoming animals - perhaps hop, skip and a jumped onto the top of a stall awning or behind a seller's table as Tanishe was quick to do.
Unfortunately, with her limited height and diminutive frame, Neena was swamped in the royal layers and garb of her new station as Hasani's wife. And, as the crowds panicked and darted out of the way, Neena was shoved by an elbow of unknown origin, forcing her to dart two steps backwards. The heels of her feet caught on the backs of her robes and she planted her butt to the ground in a painful thump that was followed by her back making a similar sound with the earth.
Stunned a little, with eyes tightened hard against the flying sand and the bruising pain. It was a second before Neena opened her eyes and began to sit up. One hand reached for her back where it smarted from the impact but froze as she realised her trip had put her right in the path of the oncoming stampede.
Hasani, like the others, was not deaf to the din and thundering of hooves. The creatures were also not quiet about their fear. The scream of a camel was more horrifying than that of a goat and Hasani was immediately on edge. His dark gaze lifted in the direction of the gathering dust cloud that often followed a stampede. Hasani himself was not unknowledgable about stampedes. Neither was Mwenye. The two of them had spent enough time hunting the lowland savanahs of the desert that the stampeding of wild game was not uncommon.
But it was uncommon with so many people gathered. The thoughts of his food flitted away with the slight breeze across the dunes. The flat bread in hand dropped to the sands and Hasani felt himself tensing sharply as his mind wound through what was happening right at that moment. Thus far, it was just himself, Mwenye, and three women. Two of which were his own wives and the third of which was in the direct path of the camels and an equally direct responsibility of Hasani's in that moment.
His gaze landed upon Jawahir and Hasani didn't think about it. Shooting forward, he reached out for the young princess first, knowing her to be in the most danger in those first few moments. Pulling her sharply away and against his chest, he quickly threw both of their weights toward the side. They rolled, but Hasani tried to take the brunt of the impact, pulling her quickly further out of the line of the stampede. Pulling her back with him across the ground, Hasani gritted his teeth as he let her go. Detaching himself from her, he then took both of her hands and pulled her to her feet, "I am sorry, leierseunin," the leier said quickly, "Get behind one of the stalls. Now."
And then he was shoving her back toward the safety of the stalls and turning to cast his gaze out at the stampede again.
Tanishe was safe. So was Mwenye. But where was--
Hasani's heart stopped in his chest, his gaze dropping to the sands just in time to watch Neena fall to the ground. He did not let his hands shake, immediately jumping into action with the cold calm of a warrior flying into battle with the support of the ancestors on his heels. Eating up the distance with markedly long strides toward his second wife, Hasani immediately had her up into his arms, sprinting with her small body toward the other side of the path. His first and only thought was getting her out of the path of danger. He would assess her injuries, if they were truly painful, once the danger had passed. With the stampede barreling past their safe location out of the reach of the stampede, Hasani finally stopped among the safer stalls of the market, setting his wife back on her feet and looking into her face. "We will talk soon," was all that he said.
Then the leier was darting back toward the stampede. A few of the straggling camels were within reach if he sprinted. He did not wait to see if any of the other men of the tribes or the Egyptians were going after their camels, but Hasani found himself reaching for the dangling reins of one of the creatures. His arms pumping at his sides, the man strained to reach for the nearest creature. His hand catching the leather reins almost painfully, he clasped his hand around it, immediately making an attempt to pull himself up onto the camel's back. If he could calm one enough to ride it and steer the stampede from the market, people would be saved the horror and danger that was already unfolding.
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Nov 26, 2019 18:39:13 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Nov 26, 2019 18:39:13 GMT
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Hasani, like the others, was not deaf to the din and thundering of hooves. The creatures were also not quiet about their fear. The scream of a camel was more horrifying than that of a goat and Hasani was immediately on edge. His dark gaze lifted in the direction of the gathering dust cloud that often followed a stampede. Hasani himself was not unknowledgable about stampedes. Neither was Mwenye. The two of them had spent enough time hunting the lowland savanahs of the desert that the stampeding of wild game was not uncommon.
But it was uncommon with so many people gathered. The thoughts of his food flitted away with the slight breeze across the dunes. The flat bread in hand dropped to the sands and Hasani felt himself tensing sharply as his mind wound through what was happening right at that moment. Thus far, it was just himself, Mwenye, and three women. Two of which were his own wives and the third of which was in the direct path of the camels and an equally direct responsibility of Hasani's in that moment.
His gaze landed upon Jawahir and Hasani didn't think about it. Shooting forward, he reached out for the young princess first, knowing her to be in the most danger in those first few moments. Pulling her sharply away and against his chest, he quickly threw both of their weights toward the side. They rolled, but Hasani tried to take the brunt of the impact, pulling her quickly further out of the line of the stampede. Pulling her back with him across the ground, Hasani gritted his teeth as he let her go. Detaching himself from her, he then took both of her hands and pulled her to her feet, "I am sorry, leierseunin," the leier said quickly, "Get behind one of the stalls. Now."
And then he was shoving her back toward the safety of the stalls and turning to cast his gaze out at the stampede again.
Tanishe was safe. So was Mwenye. But where was--
Hasani's heart stopped in his chest, his gaze dropping to the sands just in time to watch Neena fall to the ground. He did not let his hands shake, immediately jumping into action with the cold calm of a warrior flying into battle with the support of the ancestors on his heels. Eating up the distance with markedly long strides toward his second wife, Hasani immediately had her up into his arms, sprinting with her small body toward the other side of the path. His first and only thought was getting her out of the path of danger. He would assess her injuries, if they were truly painful, once the danger had passed. With the stampede barreling past their safe location out of the reach of the stampede, Hasani finally stopped among the safer stalls of the market, setting his wife back on her feet and looking into her face. "We will talk soon," was all that he said.
Then the leier was darting back toward the stampede. A few of the straggling camels were within reach if he sprinted. He did not wait to see if any of the other men of the tribes or the Egyptians were going after their camels, but Hasani found himself reaching for the dangling reins of one of the creatures. His arms pumping at his sides, the man strained to reach for the nearest creature. His hand catching the leather reins almost painfully, he clasped his hand around it, immediately making an attempt to pull himself up onto the camel's back. If he could calm one enough to ride it and steer the stampede from the market, people would be saved the horror and danger that was already unfolding.
Hasani, like the others, was not deaf to the din and thundering of hooves. The creatures were also not quiet about their fear. The scream of a camel was more horrifying than that of a goat and Hasani was immediately on edge. His dark gaze lifted in the direction of the gathering dust cloud that often followed a stampede. Hasani himself was not unknowledgable about stampedes. Neither was Mwenye. The two of them had spent enough time hunting the lowland savanahs of the desert that the stampeding of wild game was not uncommon.
But it was uncommon with so many people gathered. The thoughts of his food flitted away with the slight breeze across the dunes. The flat bread in hand dropped to the sands and Hasani felt himself tensing sharply as his mind wound through what was happening right at that moment. Thus far, it was just himself, Mwenye, and three women. Two of which were his own wives and the third of which was in the direct path of the camels and an equally direct responsibility of Hasani's in that moment.
His gaze landed upon Jawahir and Hasani didn't think about it. Shooting forward, he reached out for the young princess first, knowing her to be in the most danger in those first few moments. Pulling her sharply away and against his chest, he quickly threw both of their weights toward the side. They rolled, but Hasani tried to take the brunt of the impact, pulling her quickly further out of the line of the stampede. Pulling her back with him across the ground, Hasani gritted his teeth as he let her go. Detaching himself from her, he then took both of her hands and pulled her to her feet, "I am sorry, leierseunin," the leier said quickly, "Get behind one of the stalls. Now."
And then he was shoving her back toward the safety of the stalls and turning to cast his gaze out at the stampede again.
Tanishe was safe. So was Mwenye. But where was--
Hasani's heart stopped in his chest, his gaze dropping to the sands just in time to watch Neena fall to the ground. He did not let his hands shake, immediately jumping into action with the cold calm of a warrior flying into battle with the support of the ancestors on his heels. Eating up the distance with markedly long strides toward his second wife, Hasani immediately had her up into his arms, sprinting with her small body toward the other side of the path. His first and only thought was getting her out of the path of danger. He would assess her injuries, if they were truly painful, once the danger had passed. With the stampede barreling past their safe location out of the reach of the stampede, Hasani finally stopped among the safer stalls of the market, setting his wife back on her feet and looking into her face. "We will talk soon," was all that he said.
Then the leier was darting back toward the stampede. A few of the straggling camels were within reach if he sprinted. He did not wait to see if any of the other men of the tribes or the Egyptians were going after their camels, but Hasani found himself reaching for the dangling reins of one of the creatures. His arms pumping at his sides, the man strained to reach for the nearest creature. His hand catching the leather reins almost painfully, he clasped his hand around it, immediately making an attempt to pull himself up onto the camel's back. If he could calm one enough to ride it and steer the stampede from the market, people would be saved the horror and danger that was already unfolding.
Not one to lose herself to panic or fear, Neena did not react as normal women might and hide her face or bury her head in her arms to foolishly protect herself from stampeding animals. Instead, she simply sat, her eyes wide as the creatures approached and searched for a way of getting out of their path in time. For, by the time she got to her own feet they would be upon her.
Knowing that she would get nowhere on her hands and knees, however, Neena had no choice but to scramble up to standing as quickly as she could, in the hopes that a thinner, upright target might slip between the animals with better luck than one strewn upon the floor.
It was just as she reached her feet, however, that the wind was entirely knocked out of her, as someone had charged forwards and grabbed her around the waist. There was a hurling sensation as she flew up against her saviour's body, a series of bumps and uncomfortable judders against his frame - not to mention the way his fingers sunk into her skin with enough power to bruise.
There was a moment of panic that bubbled in her throat before Neena recognised the scent of the man who held her, thankful that her instincts to punch, kick and free herself from a stranger's grasp - regardless of the heroic circumstances for which they were holding her - had not yet sparked in her limbs. Instead, she was able to go still and allow Hasani to carry her to safety, her small frame easy enough to hold but her muscle heavy. Hasani was lucky that he worked out enough to support a heavy wife.
As she was brought back to her feet behind a stall table that provided shelter from the dust cloud and was out of the path of the camels, Neena gasped her first breath since the air had been knocked from her lungs by Hasani's tackle. She was unhurt - just shocked for a moment - but she was pleased to find that the both of them were alright. And she had seen that Tanishe had made it to safety before she had been shoved and knocked to the floor.
The moment of pleasurable calm that settled around Neena's heart was immediately squashed, however, when Hasani promised to speak with her again and then disappeared!
She scrambled to stop him, her hands reaching out to hold onto his cloak and clothing but fate was cruel and the wind kicked the slips of kaftan out of her grip and allowed her husband the freedom to charge after the animals, through himself back into the midst of the stampede and into danger.
Not normally one to be worried about rank or propriety, Neena felt worry steal her heart and therefore logic take over her head, as she grew defensive over such a choice.
You are the Leier! She thought angrily at Hasani, as she ran to the edge of the stall and back into the street, in the wake of the animals passing by. You do not need to be the one to do this dangerous thing!
Frustrated at Hasani for being so reckless and at herself for suddenly seeing recklessness as a bad thing - at least where Hasani was concerned - Neena simply ground her teeth, turned to catch the eye of her sister-wife, and then set a path running after her husband, not sure whether Tanishe would follow, but knowing that she would hardly expect Neena to do anything else.
Several hundred yards back from the stampede, Neena was in no danger as she chased over the animals. But she also wasn't prepared to be so very far away in case all of Hasani's efforts crashed down around him and someone needed to rescue him.
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Nov 28, 2019 15:41:04 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Nov 28, 2019 15:41:04 GMT
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Not one to lose herself to panic or fear, Neena did not react as normal women might and hide her face or bury her head in her arms to foolishly protect herself from stampeding animals. Instead, she simply sat, her eyes wide as the creatures approached and searched for a way of getting out of their path in time. For, by the time she got to her own feet they would be upon her.
Knowing that she would get nowhere on her hands and knees, however, Neena had no choice but to scramble up to standing as quickly as she could, in the hopes that a thinner, upright target might slip between the animals with better luck than one strewn upon the floor.
It was just as she reached her feet, however, that the wind was entirely knocked out of her, as someone had charged forwards and grabbed her around the waist. There was a hurling sensation as she flew up against her saviour's body, a series of bumps and uncomfortable judders against his frame - not to mention the way his fingers sunk into her skin with enough power to bruise.
There was a moment of panic that bubbled in her throat before Neena recognised the scent of the man who held her, thankful that her instincts to punch, kick and free herself from a stranger's grasp - regardless of the heroic circumstances for which they were holding her - had not yet sparked in her limbs. Instead, she was able to go still and allow Hasani to carry her to safety, her small frame easy enough to hold but her muscle heavy. Hasani was lucky that he worked out enough to support a heavy wife.
As she was brought back to her feet behind a stall table that provided shelter from the dust cloud and was out of the path of the camels, Neena gasped her first breath since the air had been knocked from her lungs by Hasani's tackle. She was unhurt - just shocked for a moment - but she was pleased to find that the both of them were alright. And she had seen that Tanishe had made it to safety before she had been shoved and knocked to the floor.
The moment of pleasurable calm that settled around Neena's heart was immediately squashed, however, when Hasani promised to speak with her again and then disappeared!
She scrambled to stop him, her hands reaching out to hold onto his cloak and clothing but fate was cruel and the wind kicked the slips of kaftan out of her grip and allowed her husband the freedom to charge after the animals, through himself back into the midst of the stampede and into danger.
Not normally one to be worried about rank or propriety, Neena felt worry steal her heart and therefore logic take over her head, as she grew defensive over such a choice.
You are the Leier! She thought angrily at Hasani, as she ran to the edge of the stall and back into the street, in the wake of the animals passing by. You do not need to be the one to do this dangerous thing!
Frustrated at Hasani for being so reckless and at herself for suddenly seeing recklessness as a bad thing - at least where Hasani was concerned - Neena simply ground her teeth, turned to catch the eye of her sister-wife, and then set a path running after her husband, not sure whether Tanishe would follow, but knowing that she would hardly expect Neena to do anything else.
Several hundred yards back from the stampede, Neena was in no danger as she chased over the animals. But she also wasn't prepared to be so very far away in case all of Hasani's efforts crashed down around him and someone needed to rescue him.
Not one to lose herself to panic or fear, Neena did not react as normal women might and hide her face or bury her head in her arms to foolishly protect herself from stampeding animals. Instead, she simply sat, her eyes wide as the creatures approached and searched for a way of getting out of their path in time. For, by the time she got to her own feet they would be upon her.
Knowing that she would get nowhere on her hands and knees, however, Neena had no choice but to scramble up to standing as quickly as she could, in the hopes that a thinner, upright target might slip between the animals with better luck than one strewn upon the floor.
It was just as she reached her feet, however, that the wind was entirely knocked out of her, as someone had charged forwards and grabbed her around the waist. There was a hurling sensation as she flew up against her saviour's body, a series of bumps and uncomfortable judders against his frame - not to mention the way his fingers sunk into her skin with enough power to bruise.
There was a moment of panic that bubbled in her throat before Neena recognised the scent of the man who held her, thankful that her instincts to punch, kick and free herself from a stranger's grasp - regardless of the heroic circumstances for which they were holding her - had not yet sparked in her limbs. Instead, she was able to go still and allow Hasani to carry her to safety, her small frame easy enough to hold but her muscle heavy. Hasani was lucky that he worked out enough to support a heavy wife.
As she was brought back to her feet behind a stall table that provided shelter from the dust cloud and was out of the path of the camels, Neena gasped her first breath since the air had been knocked from her lungs by Hasani's tackle. She was unhurt - just shocked for a moment - but she was pleased to find that the both of them were alright. And she had seen that Tanishe had made it to safety before she had been shoved and knocked to the floor.
The moment of pleasurable calm that settled around Neena's heart was immediately squashed, however, when Hasani promised to speak with her again and then disappeared!
She scrambled to stop him, her hands reaching out to hold onto his cloak and clothing but fate was cruel and the wind kicked the slips of kaftan out of her grip and allowed her husband the freedom to charge after the animals, through himself back into the midst of the stampede and into danger.
Not normally one to be worried about rank or propriety, Neena felt worry steal her heart and therefore logic take over her head, as she grew defensive over such a choice.
You are the Leier! She thought angrily at Hasani, as she ran to the edge of the stall and back into the street, in the wake of the animals passing by. You do not need to be the one to do this dangerous thing!
Frustrated at Hasani for being so reckless and at herself for suddenly seeing recklessness as a bad thing - at least where Hasani was concerned - Neena simply ground her teeth, turned to catch the eye of her sister-wife, and then set a path running after her husband, not sure whether Tanishe would follow, but knowing that she would hardly expect Neena to do anything else.
Several hundred yards back from the stampede, Neena was in no danger as she chased over the animals. But she also wasn't prepared to be so very far away in case all of Hasani's efforts crashed down around him and someone needed to rescue him.
If she’d had even the slightest inkling of her sister wife’s predicament, she never, ever, would have darted away without her. As it stood, she’d trusted Neena could take care of herself, though that proved untrue in this case. Her stall thumped and she looked up in time to see Jawahir jump into the stall with her. Placing a hand on the other girl’s shoulder, Tanishe was still breathing hard, and she inched up to see where Neena, Hasani, and Mwenye were, only for her eyes to turn round and owlish. For some reason, Neena was sitting on her butt in the center of the path.
“Neena!” Tanishe’s voice was lost in the bawling of the camels, but she half stood, ignoring Jawahir’s tugging on her clothes. She didn’t get to see much of the heroics. All she did see was Hasani scoop Neena up and the two of them were overrun by camels. Someone cried out and she didn’t know if it was Jawahir standing beside her now, or if it was herself. Possibly both. Dust choked the air and Tanishe dropped back down behind the stall, pulling up her veil to sheild her eyes, nose, and mouth from the onslaught.
The sounds were deafening and she held onto Jawahir, the two of them curling into each other as the ground shook and screams rent the air around them. They were hardly alone. More and more people were crowding into the safety of stalls and Tanishe found herself squished into Jawahir within seconds. At her back was a huge man who’d likely have been a boulder for the camels to surge around. On Jawahir’s other side was a trio of women. One of them was laughing hysterically and all Tanishe wanted to do was to tell the woman to be quiet, but she couldn’t manage it, not with all that went on around them.
At last, the stampede died down just a little and Tanishe stood, more out of desperation to breathe her own air, rather than that laced with the sweat and body odor of others. As soon as she was on her feet, she looked over and placed her hand over her heart. There, Neena was staring straight at her and all Tanishe could think was to be relieved, until she recognized the angry determination on the other woman’s face. Then, inexplicably, Neena charged off after the camels.
“Neena!” Tanishe called and had one shapely leg over the stall before she remembered Jawahir. Tutting a finger on Jawahir’s head, she said, “Stay here until you are fetched.” Then she leaped over the stall and trotted after Neena, catching the other woman by the arm. “What is it?” she asked, and after learning of their husband’s questionable choice to ride the camels away from the decimated market, Tanishe groaned in a most unladylike way.
“That man,” she swore. “I will come with you,” she said to Neena, beginning the jaunt with the ease and grace of a gazelle. Unlike Neena, Tanishe was not short of stature. Her legs were long and her body lithe and graceful. Her entire life was based around movement and she did not doubt that they could at least catch the camel stampede. How they were to get Hasani once they got there? She figured her wild companion had that part under control.
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Dec 8, 2019 20:20:44 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Dec 8, 2019 20:20:44 GMT
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If she’d had even the slightest inkling of her sister wife’s predicament, she never, ever, would have darted away without her. As it stood, she’d trusted Neena could take care of herself, though that proved untrue in this case. Her stall thumped and she looked up in time to see Jawahir jump into the stall with her. Placing a hand on the other girl’s shoulder, Tanishe was still breathing hard, and she inched up to see where Neena, Hasani, and Mwenye were, only for her eyes to turn round and owlish. For some reason, Neena was sitting on her butt in the center of the path.
“Neena!” Tanishe’s voice was lost in the bawling of the camels, but she half stood, ignoring Jawahir’s tugging on her clothes. She didn’t get to see much of the heroics. All she did see was Hasani scoop Neena up and the two of them were overrun by camels. Someone cried out and she didn’t know if it was Jawahir standing beside her now, or if it was herself. Possibly both. Dust choked the air and Tanishe dropped back down behind the stall, pulling up her veil to sheild her eyes, nose, and mouth from the onslaught.
The sounds were deafening and she held onto Jawahir, the two of them curling into each other as the ground shook and screams rent the air around them. They were hardly alone. More and more people were crowding into the safety of stalls and Tanishe found herself squished into Jawahir within seconds. At her back was a huge man who’d likely have been a boulder for the camels to surge around. On Jawahir’s other side was a trio of women. One of them was laughing hysterically and all Tanishe wanted to do was to tell the woman to be quiet, but she couldn’t manage it, not with all that went on around them.
At last, the stampede died down just a little and Tanishe stood, more out of desperation to breathe her own air, rather than that laced with the sweat and body odor of others. As soon as she was on her feet, she looked over and placed her hand over her heart. There, Neena was staring straight at her and all Tanishe could think was to be relieved, until she recognized the angry determination on the other woman’s face. Then, inexplicably, Neena charged off after the camels.
“Neena!” Tanishe called and had one shapely leg over the stall before she remembered Jawahir. Tutting a finger on Jawahir’s head, she said, “Stay here until you are fetched.” Then she leaped over the stall and trotted after Neena, catching the other woman by the arm. “What is it?” she asked, and after learning of their husband’s questionable choice to ride the camels away from the decimated market, Tanishe groaned in a most unladylike way.
“That man,” she swore. “I will come with you,” she said to Neena, beginning the jaunt with the ease and grace of a gazelle. Unlike Neena, Tanishe was not short of stature. Her legs were long and her body lithe and graceful. Her entire life was based around movement and she did not doubt that they could at least catch the camel stampede. How they were to get Hasani once they got there? She figured her wild companion had that part under control.
If she’d had even the slightest inkling of her sister wife’s predicament, she never, ever, would have darted away without her. As it stood, she’d trusted Neena could take care of herself, though that proved untrue in this case. Her stall thumped and she looked up in time to see Jawahir jump into the stall with her. Placing a hand on the other girl’s shoulder, Tanishe was still breathing hard, and she inched up to see where Neena, Hasani, and Mwenye were, only for her eyes to turn round and owlish. For some reason, Neena was sitting on her butt in the center of the path.
“Neena!” Tanishe’s voice was lost in the bawling of the camels, but she half stood, ignoring Jawahir’s tugging on her clothes. She didn’t get to see much of the heroics. All she did see was Hasani scoop Neena up and the two of them were overrun by camels. Someone cried out and she didn’t know if it was Jawahir standing beside her now, or if it was herself. Possibly both. Dust choked the air and Tanishe dropped back down behind the stall, pulling up her veil to sheild her eyes, nose, and mouth from the onslaught.
The sounds were deafening and she held onto Jawahir, the two of them curling into each other as the ground shook and screams rent the air around them. They were hardly alone. More and more people were crowding into the safety of stalls and Tanishe found herself squished into Jawahir within seconds. At her back was a huge man who’d likely have been a boulder for the camels to surge around. On Jawahir’s other side was a trio of women. One of them was laughing hysterically and all Tanishe wanted to do was to tell the woman to be quiet, but she couldn’t manage it, not with all that went on around them.
At last, the stampede died down just a little and Tanishe stood, more out of desperation to breathe her own air, rather than that laced with the sweat and body odor of others. As soon as she was on her feet, she looked over and placed her hand over her heart. There, Neena was staring straight at her and all Tanishe could think was to be relieved, until she recognized the angry determination on the other woman’s face. Then, inexplicably, Neena charged off after the camels.
“Neena!” Tanishe called and had one shapely leg over the stall before she remembered Jawahir. Tutting a finger on Jawahir’s head, she said, “Stay here until you are fetched.” Then she leaped over the stall and trotted after Neena, catching the other woman by the arm. “What is it?” she asked, and after learning of their husband’s questionable choice to ride the camels away from the decimated market, Tanishe groaned in a most unladylike way.
“That man,” she swore. “I will come with you,” she said to Neena, beginning the jaunt with the ease and grace of a gazelle. Unlike Neena, Tanishe was not short of stature. Her legs were long and her body lithe and graceful. Her entire life was based around movement and she did not doubt that they could at least catch the camel stampede. How they were to get Hasani once they got there? She figured her wild companion had that part under control.
Had Neena known Tanishe's thoughts of confidence in her plans for saving their shared husband, she would have laughed. That her sister-wife thought that Neena had anything under control - ever! - was a joyous overestimation that only someone who cared her for so deeply could believe in. Whilst Neena was confident and always enacted her thoughts and plans with an attitude of certainty, she was never a planner and dived headlong into every situation without thought, her intelligence and survival instinct coming to her rescue with spur of the moment solutions. Had she not been so used to a life where everything to change from one second to the other, Neena would have been lost to the ancestral world a long time ago.
Instead, she was here, running alongside her sister-wife, whom she had rapidly filled in with the waving of hands and a derisive comment regarding the man they both loved and the idiot he was making of himself and his safety by now attempting to ride the lead camel and steer the mad herd away from the innocent bystanders.
When Tanishe expressed the same exasperation, Neena felt their hearts fall into line as they both took odd down the sandy street, their feet producing little plumes of dust as they ran.
"Come on, Mwenye!" Neena yelled, when she spotted the man, smartly hidden away in safety from where the animals had caused a chasm of deep prints in the sand down the centre of the street. The man was strong and could be of use if they met trouble up ahead. The tribal nature of the Zaire was to stick together and support one another so Neena didn't look back to check and see if the man followed - for focused solely ahead as she and Tanishe fell into stride.
Not that their strides were the same.
Whilst Tanishe was tall and willowy, her figure less full than many a Bedoan woman but more elegant, Neena was shorter and a little power-house of energy. Tanishe ran with the elegance of an animal, her stride long and her lithe legs eating up the distance faster and faster with an appearance of effortlessness.
Neena, on the other hand, was forced to take nearly two steps for every one of her sister wife's and her muscles were strong but annoyed at the cumbersome limitations of her garb. Not used to the attire of a Leierin as Tanishe was, Neena found the layers of kaftan beneath her arms and around her figure turning into wind captures - like sails that would send her in the opposite direction. Frustrated and lacking care for her clothes over her husband, Neena shrugged from the garments and lost both her headdress and the two outer layers of clothes before she felt comfortable in her short tunic, sprinting down the street, once more at pace with Tani.
"I swear if that man isn't dead when we catch up..." Neena grumbled to the second love in her life. "...I'm going to kill him."
As the two of them sprinted around the corner at the end of the street, however, Neena was pleased to see that the camels had started to slow, attracted to a small and watery oasis just a few hundred yards from where the tribesmen and Egyptians had set up their market stalls. She could make out the shape of Hasani aboard one of them, as the group seemed to converge together and head for the refreshing relief of the sandy pond beneath an over-arching pair of palms.
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Dec 9, 2019 18:06:39 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Dec 9, 2019 18:06:39 GMT
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Had Neena known Tanishe's thoughts of confidence in her plans for saving their shared husband, she would have laughed. That her sister-wife thought that Neena had anything under control - ever! - was a joyous overestimation that only someone who cared her for so deeply could believe in. Whilst Neena was confident and always enacted her thoughts and plans with an attitude of certainty, she was never a planner and dived headlong into every situation without thought, her intelligence and survival instinct coming to her rescue with spur of the moment solutions. Had she not been so used to a life where everything to change from one second to the other, Neena would have been lost to the ancestral world a long time ago.
Instead, she was here, running alongside her sister-wife, whom she had rapidly filled in with the waving of hands and a derisive comment regarding the man they both loved and the idiot he was making of himself and his safety by now attempting to ride the lead camel and steer the mad herd away from the innocent bystanders.
When Tanishe expressed the same exasperation, Neena felt their hearts fall into line as they both took odd down the sandy street, their feet producing little plumes of dust as they ran.
"Come on, Mwenye!" Neena yelled, when she spotted the man, smartly hidden away in safety from where the animals had caused a chasm of deep prints in the sand down the centre of the street. The man was strong and could be of use if they met trouble up ahead. The tribal nature of the Zaire was to stick together and support one another so Neena didn't look back to check and see if the man followed - for focused solely ahead as she and Tanishe fell into stride.
Not that their strides were the same.
Whilst Tanishe was tall and willowy, her figure less full than many a Bedoan woman but more elegant, Neena was shorter and a little power-house of energy. Tanishe ran with the elegance of an animal, her stride long and her lithe legs eating up the distance faster and faster with an appearance of effortlessness.
Neena, on the other hand, was forced to take nearly two steps for every one of her sister wife's and her muscles were strong but annoyed at the cumbersome limitations of her garb. Not used to the attire of a Leierin as Tanishe was, Neena found the layers of kaftan beneath her arms and around her figure turning into wind captures - like sails that would send her in the opposite direction. Frustrated and lacking care for her clothes over her husband, Neena shrugged from the garments and lost both her headdress and the two outer layers of clothes before she felt comfortable in her short tunic, sprinting down the street, once more at pace with Tani.
"I swear if that man isn't dead when we catch up..." Neena grumbled to the second love in her life. "...I'm going to kill him."
As the two of them sprinted around the corner at the end of the street, however, Neena was pleased to see that the camels had started to slow, attracted to a small and watery oasis just a few hundred yards from where the tribesmen and Egyptians had set up their market stalls. She could make out the shape of Hasani aboard one of them, as the group seemed to converge together and head for the refreshing relief of the sandy pond beneath an over-arching pair of palms.
Had Neena known Tanishe's thoughts of confidence in her plans for saving their shared husband, she would have laughed. That her sister-wife thought that Neena had anything under control - ever! - was a joyous overestimation that only someone who cared her for so deeply could believe in. Whilst Neena was confident and always enacted her thoughts and plans with an attitude of certainty, she was never a planner and dived headlong into every situation without thought, her intelligence and survival instinct coming to her rescue with spur of the moment solutions. Had she not been so used to a life where everything to change from one second to the other, Neena would have been lost to the ancestral world a long time ago.
Instead, she was here, running alongside her sister-wife, whom she had rapidly filled in with the waving of hands and a derisive comment regarding the man they both loved and the idiot he was making of himself and his safety by now attempting to ride the lead camel and steer the mad herd away from the innocent bystanders.
When Tanishe expressed the same exasperation, Neena felt their hearts fall into line as they both took odd down the sandy street, their feet producing little plumes of dust as they ran.
"Come on, Mwenye!" Neena yelled, when she spotted the man, smartly hidden away in safety from where the animals had caused a chasm of deep prints in the sand down the centre of the street. The man was strong and could be of use if they met trouble up ahead. The tribal nature of the Zaire was to stick together and support one another so Neena didn't look back to check and see if the man followed - for focused solely ahead as she and Tanishe fell into stride.
Not that their strides were the same.
Whilst Tanishe was tall and willowy, her figure less full than many a Bedoan woman but more elegant, Neena was shorter and a little power-house of energy. Tanishe ran with the elegance of an animal, her stride long and her lithe legs eating up the distance faster and faster with an appearance of effortlessness.
Neena, on the other hand, was forced to take nearly two steps for every one of her sister wife's and her muscles were strong but annoyed at the cumbersome limitations of her garb. Not used to the attire of a Leierin as Tanishe was, Neena found the layers of kaftan beneath her arms and around her figure turning into wind captures - like sails that would send her in the opposite direction. Frustrated and lacking care for her clothes over her husband, Neena shrugged from the garments and lost both her headdress and the two outer layers of clothes before she felt comfortable in her short tunic, sprinting down the street, once more at pace with Tani.
"I swear if that man isn't dead when we catch up..." Neena grumbled to the second love in her life. "...I'm going to kill him."
As the two of them sprinted around the corner at the end of the street, however, Neena was pleased to see that the camels had started to slow, attracted to a small and watery oasis just a few hundred yards from where the tribesmen and Egyptians had set up their market stalls. She could make out the shape of Hasani aboard one of them, as the group seemed to converge together and head for the refreshing relief of the sandy pond beneath an over-arching pair of palms.
Mwenye, unfortunately, did not have quite as fast reflexes as his Leier, and, unfortunately, they both reflexively decided on the same priorities. Tanishe rescued herself neatly, by the time he turned back to Jawahir Hasani had fairly thrown her out of the way - a feat the smaller man would not have managed with nearly as much panache - and then Hasani had noticed Neena's fall while Mwenye had only noticed that she'd begun moving quickly enough that he'd assumed the nimble woman would be right on her sister-wife's heels...
"Shit."
It didn't take him long to see what was causing the stampede, nor to realize that, whether or not the beasts would by now notice if the cause of their panic was removed, the stall awning dragging behind the lead camel was both a tripping hazard for the ones that followed and added to the chances of the beasts tearing down some other structure. Stampeding animals were perfectly capable and willing to run directly through most barriers other than sheer stone cliffs, but they still preferred not to. Assuming, of course, that the animal in question was only as wide as he thought he was, and actually had a choice.
Mwenye balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, sidestepped neatly and jumped up, grabbing the camel's neck and reins as it charged past. Unfortunately, again, he did not have the sheer upper body strength to actually haul himself up onto the animal's back while it was moving, and the amount of his weight hanging on it's reins was enough to make it bellow it more pain and fear and charge even faster. He clung as well as he could with one arm, quickly drawing his knife to saw through the long strips of leather. He didn't quite manage the task before he fell, only narrowly avoiding impaling himself on his own blade. His weight landing on the crossbeam as he tumbled was enough to snap the weakened leather, however, so at least he didn't find himself curled up in a tight ball hoping none of the thousand-pound animals stepped on him as they ran blindly past for nothing.
Camels were mostly sure-footed animals, but he still did not escape entirely unscathed, and he lay still for a long moment after they passed, trying to assess his injuries before he moved and made something worse.
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Mwenye, unfortunately, did not have quite as fast reflexes as his Leier, and, unfortunately, they both reflexively decided on the same priorities. Tanishe rescued herself neatly, by the time he turned back to Jawahir Hasani had fairly thrown her out of the way - a feat the smaller man would not have managed with nearly as much panache - and then Hasani had noticed Neena's fall while Mwenye had only noticed that she'd begun moving quickly enough that he'd assumed the nimble woman would be right on her sister-wife's heels...
"Shit."
It didn't take him long to see what was causing the stampede, nor to realize that, whether or not the beasts would by now notice if the cause of their panic was removed, the stall awning dragging behind the lead camel was both a tripping hazard for the ones that followed and added to the chances of the beasts tearing down some other structure. Stampeding animals were perfectly capable and willing to run directly through most barriers other than sheer stone cliffs, but they still preferred not to. Assuming, of course, that the animal in question was only as wide as he thought he was, and actually had a choice.
Mwenye balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, sidestepped neatly and jumped up, grabbing the camel's neck and reins as it charged past. Unfortunately, again, he did not have the sheer upper body strength to actually haul himself up onto the animal's back while it was moving, and the amount of his weight hanging on it's reins was enough to make it bellow it more pain and fear and charge even faster. He clung as well as he could with one arm, quickly drawing his knife to saw through the long strips of leather. He didn't quite manage the task before he fell, only narrowly avoiding impaling himself on his own blade. His weight landing on the crossbeam as he tumbled was enough to snap the weakened leather, however, so at least he didn't find himself curled up in a tight ball hoping none of the thousand-pound animals stepped on him as they ran blindly past for nothing.
Camels were mostly sure-footed animals, but he still did not escape entirely unscathed, and he lay still for a long moment after they passed, trying to assess his injuries before he moved and made something worse.
Mwenye, unfortunately, did not have quite as fast reflexes as his Leier, and, unfortunately, they both reflexively decided on the same priorities. Tanishe rescued herself neatly, by the time he turned back to Jawahir Hasani had fairly thrown her out of the way - a feat the smaller man would not have managed with nearly as much panache - and then Hasani had noticed Neena's fall while Mwenye had only noticed that she'd begun moving quickly enough that he'd assumed the nimble woman would be right on her sister-wife's heels...
"Shit."
It didn't take him long to see what was causing the stampede, nor to realize that, whether or not the beasts would by now notice if the cause of their panic was removed, the stall awning dragging behind the lead camel was both a tripping hazard for the ones that followed and added to the chances of the beasts tearing down some other structure. Stampeding animals were perfectly capable and willing to run directly through most barriers other than sheer stone cliffs, but they still preferred not to. Assuming, of course, that the animal in question was only as wide as he thought he was, and actually had a choice.
Mwenye balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, sidestepped neatly and jumped up, grabbing the camel's neck and reins as it charged past. Unfortunately, again, he did not have the sheer upper body strength to actually haul himself up onto the animal's back while it was moving, and the amount of his weight hanging on it's reins was enough to make it bellow it more pain and fear and charge even faster. He clung as well as he could with one arm, quickly drawing his knife to saw through the long strips of leather. He didn't quite manage the task before he fell, only narrowly avoiding impaling himself on his own blade. His weight landing on the crossbeam as he tumbled was enough to snap the weakened leather, however, so at least he didn't find himself curled up in a tight ball hoping none of the thousand-pound animals stepped on him as they ran blindly past for nothing.
Camels were mostly sure-footed animals, but he still did not escape entirely unscathed, and he lay still for a long moment after they passed, trying to assess his injuries before he moved and made something worse.
The leier's hand ached and he thought that maybe he had broken something when he had grabbed onto the leather strap, but the leier did have the strength to pull himself up. Clamouring up the back of the camel he had chosen to ride, the leier look around him at the stampeding camels, thing to assess the direction that the group was going and determining that there was a short path out of the market that would leave it much less damaged than if the stampede continued to hurdle through the entire length of the market. Reckless he may have been, but the less loss of life, the better. Both Egyptian and Bedoan lives would be spared if the people of this market were not trampled in the process.
With a good assessment of his surroundings, Hasani took sharper hold of the reigns of the camel he now rode. A sharp yank and the pressure of the man's body had the camel calming rather quickly, much to the relief of the leier because that meant that the man could control this camel. Herd mentality meant that pushing his camel to run faster, along a less damaging route, and taking the lead of the group would have the rest of the camels following him. Jerking the reigns sharply once more, he took control of his camel and then nudged it to race ahead.
Sure-footed and quite fast when not in so much of a panic, the creature seemed to calm further and further as Hasani guided it through the panicked market. Weaving through the large bodies of the other camels, the leier had to duck his head to keep the incredible amounts of dust and sand from his eyes. Blinking sharply, he kept his head slightly bowed, staring ahead with an almost level look. Weaving between a few more camels, Hasani soon forced his way to the head of the herd...
And just like that, the camel that started it all seemed to change direction, following Hasani and his own camel quickly down the shortest path out of the market and into the almost rocky desert landscape beyond. With so few people and so few stalls about the herd of panicking beasts, Hasani deigned to turn his camel so that the group ran in circles, running them and running them until they started to tire and calm rather than dash through a crowded Egyptian-Bedoan market and destroy countless numbers of goods, stalls, and people alike.
The leier wasn't thinking about how angry his wives might be with him for pulling such a stunt. Admittedly, he had just wanted to see the fewest number of lives lost, if any had lost their lives at all. A stampede was no joke, and if no one had tried to stop them, the market and the people of the market would have been much worse off. At least, that was what Hasani was going to tell himself once he dismounted. A little dizzy from running the creatures in an intense circle, the man leaned a little further against his camel, closing his eyes for a moment in order to orient himself and give the others time to catch up with him. He could already see many of his tribe's warriors and some of the Egyptian merchants heading his way, but he was in no rush to dismount, sure that his legs would give out from beneath him as the adrenaline wore off.
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Jan 24, 2020 13:17:57 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Jan 24, 2020 13:17:57 GMT
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The leier's hand ached and he thought that maybe he had broken something when he had grabbed onto the leather strap, but the leier did have the strength to pull himself up. Clamouring up the back of the camel he had chosen to ride, the leier look around him at the stampeding camels, thing to assess the direction that the group was going and determining that there was a short path out of the market that would leave it much less damaged than if the stampede continued to hurdle through the entire length of the market. Reckless he may have been, but the less loss of life, the better. Both Egyptian and Bedoan lives would be spared if the people of this market were not trampled in the process.
With a good assessment of his surroundings, Hasani took sharper hold of the reigns of the camel he now rode. A sharp yank and the pressure of the man's body had the camel calming rather quickly, much to the relief of the leier because that meant that the man could control this camel. Herd mentality meant that pushing his camel to run faster, along a less damaging route, and taking the lead of the group would have the rest of the camels following him. Jerking the reigns sharply once more, he took control of his camel and then nudged it to race ahead.
Sure-footed and quite fast when not in so much of a panic, the creature seemed to calm further and further as Hasani guided it through the panicked market. Weaving through the large bodies of the other camels, the leier had to duck his head to keep the incredible amounts of dust and sand from his eyes. Blinking sharply, he kept his head slightly bowed, staring ahead with an almost level look. Weaving between a few more camels, Hasani soon forced his way to the head of the herd...
And just like that, the camel that started it all seemed to change direction, following Hasani and his own camel quickly down the shortest path out of the market and into the almost rocky desert landscape beyond. With so few people and so few stalls about the herd of panicking beasts, Hasani deigned to turn his camel so that the group ran in circles, running them and running them until they started to tire and calm rather than dash through a crowded Egyptian-Bedoan market and destroy countless numbers of goods, stalls, and people alike.
The leier wasn't thinking about how angry his wives might be with him for pulling such a stunt. Admittedly, he had just wanted to see the fewest number of lives lost, if any had lost their lives at all. A stampede was no joke, and if no one had tried to stop them, the market and the people of the market would have been much worse off. At least, that was what Hasani was going to tell himself once he dismounted. A little dizzy from running the creatures in an intense circle, the man leaned a little further against his camel, closing his eyes for a moment in order to orient himself and give the others time to catch up with him. He could already see many of his tribe's warriors and some of the Egyptian merchants heading his way, but he was in no rush to dismount, sure that his legs would give out from beneath him as the adrenaline wore off.
The leier's hand ached and he thought that maybe he had broken something when he had grabbed onto the leather strap, but the leier did have the strength to pull himself up. Clamouring up the back of the camel he had chosen to ride, the leier look around him at the stampeding camels, thing to assess the direction that the group was going and determining that there was a short path out of the market that would leave it much less damaged than if the stampede continued to hurdle through the entire length of the market. Reckless he may have been, but the less loss of life, the better. Both Egyptian and Bedoan lives would be spared if the people of this market were not trampled in the process.
With a good assessment of his surroundings, Hasani took sharper hold of the reigns of the camel he now rode. A sharp yank and the pressure of the man's body had the camel calming rather quickly, much to the relief of the leier because that meant that the man could control this camel. Herd mentality meant that pushing his camel to run faster, along a less damaging route, and taking the lead of the group would have the rest of the camels following him. Jerking the reigns sharply once more, he took control of his camel and then nudged it to race ahead.
Sure-footed and quite fast when not in so much of a panic, the creature seemed to calm further and further as Hasani guided it through the panicked market. Weaving through the large bodies of the other camels, the leier had to duck his head to keep the incredible amounts of dust and sand from his eyes. Blinking sharply, he kept his head slightly bowed, staring ahead with an almost level look. Weaving between a few more camels, Hasani soon forced his way to the head of the herd...
And just like that, the camel that started it all seemed to change direction, following Hasani and his own camel quickly down the shortest path out of the market and into the almost rocky desert landscape beyond. With so few people and so few stalls about the herd of panicking beasts, Hasani deigned to turn his camel so that the group ran in circles, running them and running them until they started to tire and calm rather than dash through a crowded Egyptian-Bedoan market and destroy countless numbers of goods, stalls, and people alike.
The leier wasn't thinking about how angry his wives might be with him for pulling such a stunt. Admittedly, he had just wanted to see the fewest number of lives lost, if any had lost their lives at all. A stampede was no joke, and if no one had tried to stop them, the market and the people of the market would have been much worse off. At least, that was what Hasani was going to tell himself once he dismounted. A little dizzy from running the creatures in an intense circle, the man leaned a little further against his camel, closing his eyes for a moment in order to orient himself and give the others time to catch up with him. He could already see many of his tribe's warriors and some of the Egyptian merchants heading his way, but he was in no rush to dismount, sure that his legs would give out from beneath him as the adrenaline wore off.
As Neena and Tani darted down the street as quickly as they could, several others started to follow. Warriors of the Zaire tribe saw their Leierin sprinting after a stampeded that bore away her husband and people started to notice. The loyal fighters of the Zaire ran with them in an attempt to help their tribal head and Mwenye was one of the more ambitious as he was able to catch hole of one of the camels that ran by him ahead of Neena and Tani.
What Neena had meant for the man to do was perhaps grab ahold of their husband and pull him off the dang animal and down to safety. Or maybe to run ahead and warn everyone to get out of the way. Instead, he - like her husband - chose a more heroic means of a solution and dived onto a damn camel!
Growling under her breath, Neena spurred her thighs to move faster as she watched Mwenye detach the awning of the stall and then himself from the stampeding animal and fall to the ground. Knowing that her sister-wife would continue on to Hasani, Neena's feet screeched to a halt, the leather of the sandals growing hot under foot and her direction turning sharply to aid the prophet.
"Now, how was that helpful?!" Neena chastised, reaching down to pat at Mwenye's arms and legs and be assured that he hadn't broken anything. "You break your neck and the ancestors'll be pissed! That was not what I meant when I called you to help."
Neena's tone was one of a tutting best friend, telling off their friend for a drunken moment of nonsense in which he performed a tremendous feat; it contained both a hidden layer of awe and acceptance for his actions, as well as a healthy dose of reproach and the shakings of heads.
"Come on..." She told him, helping him up when she was certain he hadn't done himself a serious mischief. "Everything is still where it should be. We need to go and make sure the same is true for the Leier."
Because, if it wasn’t, she was gonna smack that man so hard...
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Jan 25, 2020 20:16:31 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Jan 25, 2020 20:16:31 GMT
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As Neena and Tani darted down the street as quickly as they could, several others started to follow. Warriors of the Zaire tribe saw their Leierin sprinting after a stampeded that bore away her husband and people started to notice. The loyal fighters of the Zaire ran with them in an attempt to help their tribal head and Mwenye was one of the more ambitious as he was able to catch hole of one of the camels that ran by him ahead of Neena and Tani.
What Neena had meant for the man to do was perhaps grab ahold of their husband and pull him off the dang animal and down to safety. Or maybe to run ahead and warn everyone to get out of the way. Instead, he - like her husband - chose a more heroic means of a solution and dived onto a damn camel!
Growling under her breath, Neena spurred her thighs to move faster as she watched Mwenye detach the awning of the stall and then himself from the stampeding animal and fall to the ground. Knowing that her sister-wife would continue on to Hasani, Neena's feet screeched to a halt, the leather of the sandals growing hot under foot and her direction turning sharply to aid the prophet.
"Now, how was that helpful?!" Neena chastised, reaching down to pat at Mwenye's arms and legs and be assured that he hadn't broken anything. "You break your neck and the ancestors'll be pissed! That was not what I meant when I called you to help."
Neena's tone was one of a tutting best friend, telling off their friend for a drunken moment of nonsense in which he performed a tremendous feat; it contained both a hidden layer of awe and acceptance for his actions, as well as a healthy dose of reproach and the shakings of heads.
"Come on..." She told him, helping him up when she was certain he hadn't done himself a serious mischief. "Everything is still where it should be. We need to go and make sure the same is true for the Leier."
Because, if it wasn’t, she was gonna smack that man so hard...
As Neena and Tani darted down the street as quickly as they could, several others started to follow. Warriors of the Zaire tribe saw their Leierin sprinting after a stampeded that bore away her husband and people started to notice. The loyal fighters of the Zaire ran with them in an attempt to help their tribal head and Mwenye was one of the more ambitious as he was able to catch hole of one of the camels that ran by him ahead of Neena and Tani.
What Neena had meant for the man to do was perhaps grab ahold of their husband and pull him off the dang animal and down to safety. Or maybe to run ahead and warn everyone to get out of the way. Instead, he - like her husband - chose a more heroic means of a solution and dived onto a damn camel!
Growling under her breath, Neena spurred her thighs to move faster as she watched Mwenye detach the awning of the stall and then himself from the stampeding animal and fall to the ground. Knowing that her sister-wife would continue on to Hasani, Neena's feet screeched to a halt, the leather of the sandals growing hot under foot and her direction turning sharply to aid the prophet.
"Now, how was that helpful?!" Neena chastised, reaching down to pat at Mwenye's arms and legs and be assured that he hadn't broken anything. "You break your neck and the ancestors'll be pissed! That was not what I meant when I called you to help."
Neena's tone was one of a tutting best friend, telling off their friend for a drunken moment of nonsense in which he performed a tremendous feat; it contained both a hidden layer of awe and acceptance for his actions, as well as a healthy dose of reproach and the shakings of heads.
"Come on..." She told him, helping him up when she was certain he hadn't done himself a serious mischief. "Everything is still where it should be. We need to go and make sure the same is true for the Leier."
Because, if it wasn’t, she was gonna smack that man so hard...
Harboring thoughts just as irritated as her sister wife’s, Tanishe did not actually give into the urge to growl in frustration. She sprinted alongside Neena. Though not a dancer by trade, her movements were languid and graceful. Each step, launching her further along the sandy ground, propelled her through the air with such lithe symmetry that she found herself enjoying this with childish abandon. When she reached Hasani, she would be upset, but why ruin the beauty of the moment? The fabric of her kaftan fluttered behind her in a colorful swirl. Her headscarf whipped away and she looked back only for a moment, deciding not to chase it. With her braids free, the wind caressed the crown of her head and she smiled, arms free, almost feeling like she was taking flight.
All too soon, she’d reached the ring of camels and her arms came down to her sides, her long strides shortened and her pace slowed. By the time she swept up to her husband’s camel, reaching up for him to help him down, the smile was gone and her momentary lapse into fancy was behind her. Real life reasserted itself in the harsh grit of sand inside her sandals, the stench of unwashed camel, the burning dust swirling up the ground, making her eyes water and blink.
“Hasani!” she coughed at him, a little bewildered at herself about how she could be so carefree one second and so burdened the next. Life could be confusing that way, being two things simultaneously. She was not a fighter but she wasn’t completely weak. Arms up to take her husband into them, she helped him from the camel and ran her hand over his chest and abdomen, checking him for injuries.
“I would be devastated if you were to come to harm.” The impatience laced in her words was all the chastisement she was prepared to give him at the moment. Maybe later, when she had Neena to back her up, but not in front of people. Besides, the heroics were done, the camels were calm, and the market was slowly picking itself back up. She moved to put herself under his arm, her own arm coming around his waist so that she was a steadying presence for him. “You are very loved, husband. Please…” the last word had several sentences in it: please don’t do that again. Please think next time. Please stop being so brave...
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Feb 20, 2020 17:09:38 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Feb 20, 2020 17:09:38 GMT
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Harboring thoughts just as irritated as her sister wife’s, Tanishe did not actually give into the urge to growl in frustration. She sprinted alongside Neena. Though not a dancer by trade, her movements were languid and graceful. Each step, launching her further along the sandy ground, propelled her through the air with such lithe symmetry that she found herself enjoying this with childish abandon. When she reached Hasani, she would be upset, but why ruin the beauty of the moment? The fabric of her kaftan fluttered behind her in a colorful swirl. Her headscarf whipped away and she looked back only for a moment, deciding not to chase it. With her braids free, the wind caressed the crown of her head and she smiled, arms free, almost feeling like she was taking flight.
All too soon, she’d reached the ring of camels and her arms came down to her sides, her long strides shortened and her pace slowed. By the time she swept up to her husband’s camel, reaching up for him to help him down, the smile was gone and her momentary lapse into fancy was behind her. Real life reasserted itself in the harsh grit of sand inside her sandals, the stench of unwashed camel, the burning dust swirling up the ground, making her eyes water and blink.
“Hasani!” she coughed at him, a little bewildered at herself about how she could be so carefree one second and so burdened the next. Life could be confusing that way, being two things simultaneously. She was not a fighter but she wasn’t completely weak. Arms up to take her husband into them, she helped him from the camel and ran her hand over his chest and abdomen, checking him for injuries.
“I would be devastated if you were to come to harm.” The impatience laced in her words was all the chastisement she was prepared to give him at the moment. Maybe later, when she had Neena to back her up, but not in front of people. Besides, the heroics were done, the camels were calm, and the market was slowly picking itself back up. She moved to put herself under his arm, her own arm coming around his waist so that she was a steadying presence for him. “You are very loved, husband. Please…” the last word had several sentences in it: please don’t do that again. Please think next time. Please stop being so brave...
Harboring thoughts just as irritated as her sister wife’s, Tanishe did not actually give into the urge to growl in frustration. She sprinted alongside Neena. Though not a dancer by trade, her movements were languid and graceful. Each step, launching her further along the sandy ground, propelled her through the air with such lithe symmetry that she found herself enjoying this with childish abandon. When she reached Hasani, she would be upset, but why ruin the beauty of the moment? The fabric of her kaftan fluttered behind her in a colorful swirl. Her headscarf whipped away and she looked back only for a moment, deciding not to chase it. With her braids free, the wind caressed the crown of her head and she smiled, arms free, almost feeling like she was taking flight.
All too soon, she’d reached the ring of camels and her arms came down to her sides, her long strides shortened and her pace slowed. By the time she swept up to her husband’s camel, reaching up for him to help him down, the smile was gone and her momentary lapse into fancy was behind her. Real life reasserted itself in the harsh grit of sand inside her sandals, the stench of unwashed camel, the burning dust swirling up the ground, making her eyes water and blink.
“Hasani!” she coughed at him, a little bewildered at herself about how she could be so carefree one second and so burdened the next. Life could be confusing that way, being two things simultaneously. She was not a fighter but she wasn’t completely weak. Arms up to take her husband into them, she helped him from the camel and ran her hand over his chest and abdomen, checking him for injuries.
“I would be devastated if you were to come to harm.” The impatience laced in her words was all the chastisement she was prepared to give him at the moment. Maybe later, when she had Neena to back her up, but not in front of people. Besides, the heroics were done, the camels were calm, and the market was slowly picking itself back up. She moved to put herself under his arm, her own arm coming around his waist so that she was a steadying presence for him. “You are very loved, husband. Please…” the last word had several sentences in it: please don’t do that again. Please think next time. Please stop being so brave...
Having assured herself that Mwenye was safe on his feet and not about to tumble down into a heap of undiagnosed broken bones and torn muscles, Neena waved a hand for him to follow her and made the rest of the journey towards the small group of camels with a calmer pace than her sister-wife. Where Tanishe had sprinted with abandon, Neena now marched with a strength and power that was unusual for one who had just sprinted the length of the market and with a determination that would see nothing dim it.
Pausing only momentarily to pick up a familiar kaftan that had been wrapped around Tani's head a few moments ago, Neena continued her stomping stride, shaking out the fabric to rid it best she could of dust and sand.
When she reached the little group that had culminated around the Leier, several praising his heroics and others speaking harsh judgement on those who had spooked the animals in the first place, Neena held up the kaftan like some kind of flag, the tendrils of colour writhing like a colourful snake on the low wind. Whilst the material was clutched to her palm by her smallest finger and her thumb, the other three digits were held aloft, silhouetted by the sun at their back.
"Three!" Neena called over the heads of the small group that now parted ways to permit the Leier's second wife access to his view and his presence. "I get three acts of stupidity without your complaints over this!" Neena demanded. "That was definitely worth thrice the kinds of stunts I pull!"
Her comedic negotiations of what Hasani now owed her, came with a serious expression that belied the emotions beneath. In short, her message was clear:
You get angry at me over the dangers that I will occasionally put myself in. This was three times as bad. You moron.
Her brows drawn low over her eyes, Neena came to stand before the man, several steps in front of him, her feet braced and her fists now on her hips, the softness of Tani's head shawl fluttering around her hip. He raised one eyebrow, not advancing on her husband but setting her weight upon one hip with expectancy as if to say - now how are you going to make up for the fright you just gave us?
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Mar 7, 2020 12:16:08 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Mar 7, 2020 12:16:08 GMT
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Having assured herself that Mwenye was safe on his feet and not about to tumble down into a heap of undiagnosed broken bones and torn muscles, Neena waved a hand for him to follow her and made the rest of the journey towards the small group of camels with a calmer pace than her sister-wife. Where Tanishe had sprinted with abandon, Neena now marched with a strength and power that was unusual for one who had just sprinted the length of the market and with a determination that would see nothing dim it.
Pausing only momentarily to pick up a familiar kaftan that had been wrapped around Tani's head a few moments ago, Neena continued her stomping stride, shaking out the fabric to rid it best she could of dust and sand.
When she reached the little group that had culminated around the Leier, several praising his heroics and others speaking harsh judgement on those who had spooked the animals in the first place, Neena held up the kaftan like some kind of flag, the tendrils of colour writhing like a colourful snake on the low wind. Whilst the material was clutched to her palm by her smallest finger and her thumb, the other three digits were held aloft, silhouetted by the sun at their back.
"Three!" Neena called over the heads of the small group that now parted ways to permit the Leier's second wife access to his view and his presence. "I get three acts of stupidity without your complaints over this!" Neena demanded. "That was definitely worth thrice the kinds of stunts I pull!"
Her comedic negotiations of what Hasani now owed her, came with a serious expression that belied the emotions beneath. In short, her message was clear:
You get angry at me over the dangers that I will occasionally put myself in. This was three times as bad. You moron.
Her brows drawn low over her eyes, Neena came to stand before the man, several steps in front of him, her feet braced and her fists now on her hips, the softness of Tani's head shawl fluttering around her hip. He raised one eyebrow, not advancing on her husband but setting her weight upon one hip with expectancy as if to say - now how are you going to make up for the fright you just gave us?
Having assured herself that Mwenye was safe on his feet and not about to tumble down into a heap of undiagnosed broken bones and torn muscles, Neena waved a hand for him to follow her and made the rest of the journey towards the small group of camels with a calmer pace than her sister-wife. Where Tanishe had sprinted with abandon, Neena now marched with a strength and power that was unusual for one who had just sprinted the length of the market and with a determination that would see nothing dim it.
Pausing only momentarily to pick up a familiar kaftan that had been wrapped around Tani's head a few moments ago, Neena continued her stomping stride, shaking out the fabric to rid it best she could of dust and sand.
When she reached the little group that had culminated around the Leier, several praising his heroics and others speaking harsh judgement on those who had spooked the animals in the first place, Neena held up the kaftan like some kind of flag, the tendrils of colour writhing like a colourful snake on the low wind. Whilst the material was clutched to her palm by her smallest finger and her thumb, the other three digits were held aloft, silhouetted by the sun at their back.
"Three!" Neena called over the heads of the small group that now parted ways to permit the Leier's second wife access to his view and his presence. "I get three acts of stupidity without your complaints over this!" Neena demanded. "That was definitely worth thrice the kinds of stunts I pull!"
Her comedic negotiations of what Hasani now owed her, came with a serious expression that belied the emotions beneath. In short, her message was clear:
You get angry at me over the dangers that I will occasionally put myself in. This was three times as bad. You moron.
Her brows drawn low over her eyes, Neena came to stand before the man, several steps in front of him, her feet braced and her fists now on her hips, the softness of Tani's head shawl fluttering around her hip. He raised one eyebrow, not advancing on her husband but setting her weight upon one hip with expectancy as if to say - now how are you going to make up for the fright you just gave us?
The adrenaline did wear off the moment his feet touched sand and the leier sighed deeply as Tanishe helped him off the camel. He leaned heavily against the creature so as not to distribute his weight too brutally on his young wife. He was very sure that Tanishe was cross with him. She rarely chastised him at all, and though her words were as sweet and gentle as always, there was an impatience there that Hasani couldn't ignore. Giving his leierin a weak smile, he leaned in to brush his lips against her forehead, a deepset tiredness in his bones now that the activity had halted.
Hasani did not have a moment to apologize before Neena stormed up to he and Tanishe, and then his dark eyes were settled on the form of his second wife. Her declaration that she got to pull three dangerous stunts without him complaining because his own had been absolutely insane actually made him laugh. It was a short, barking thing, but his shoulders shook with continued humor. The man shook his head and eyed his second wife.
"I think this one stunt of mine is payback for all of the fear you have caused me in the past, Neena," he declared, "We can negotiate your dangerous tendencies later." With humor still in his gaze, the man winked at his second wife and then held a lightly trembling hand out to her in order to get her to come to him. When she was also in his arms, tucked in against the opposite side as Tanishe, he found himself brushing his lips against Tanishe's forehead and then Neena's.
"I am sorry," he said slowly, hoping the two of them had calmed down enough not to kill him in his sleep that night. "My mind was only on the idea of stopping the loss of life and valuable resources, rather than my own health," the man murmured his excuse low, shooting a few of his warriors a look when they loudly agreed with his choices. A slight shake of his head and a mouthing of 'not now' had them quieting down. He would deal with them later, especially because Hasani knew they would have all done the same if given the chance.
In that moment, he was glad that he was safe and that both of his wives were here. Admittedly, he was sure that he would not be able to walk straight now that exhaustion had set in. Leaning his face into Tanishe's neck, one of his hands grazed the back of Neena's, showing silent affection and devotion to both of them without having to say a single word. Tiredly, he leaned back to give them both a smile, "I hurt my wrist," he said slowly, "Would you look at it?" his question was for Tanishe, "And make sure that our tent is set up for the night? We're making camp."
The order had most of the Zaire tribe suddenly scrambling off to start setting up their own tents. Usually, they would set up a little further from the border for the night, but Hasani was not going to force anyone to walk further, most especially himself. "I think I'd also like to sleep," his smile was sheepish, and he tiredly ducked away from both of his wives and started his slow lumbering after the rest of the tribe before one of them could knock him upside the head for his stupidity.
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Mar 10, 2020 12:07:42 GMT
Posted In Border Trade on Mar 10, 2020 12:07:42 GMT
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The adrenaline did wear off the moment his feet touched sand and the leier sighed deeply as Tanishe helped him off the camel. He leaned heavily against the creature so as not to distribute his weight too brutally on his young wife. He was very sure that Tanishe was cross with him. She rarely chastised him at all, and though her words were as sweet and gentle as always, there was an impatience there that Hasani couldn't ignore. Giving his leierin a weak smile, he leaned in to brush his lips against her forehead, a deepset tiredness in his bones now that the activity had halted.
Hasani did not have a moment to apologize before Neena stormed up to he and Tanishe, and then his dark eyes were settled on the form of his second wife. Her declaration that she got to pull three dangerous stunts without him complaining because his own had been absolutely insane actually made him laugh. It was a short, barking thing, but his shoulders shook with continued humor. The man shook his head and eyed his second wife.
"I think this one stunt of mine is payback for all of the fear you have caused me in the past, Neena," he declared, "We can negotiate your dangerous tendencies later." With humor still in his gaze, the man winked at his second wife and then held a lightly trembling hand out to her in order to get her to come to him. When she was also in his arms, tucked in against the opposite side as Tanishe, he found himself brushing his lips against Tanishe's forehead and then Neena's.
"I am sorry," he said slowly, hoping the two of them had calmed down enough not to kill him in his sleep that night. "My mind was only on the idea of stopping the loss of life and valuable resources, rather than my own health," the man murmured his excuse low, shooting a few of his warriors a look when they loudly agreed with his choices. A slight shake of his head and a mouthing of 'not now' had them quieting down. He would deal with them later, especially because Hasani knew they would have all done the same if given the chance.
In that moment, he was glad that he was safe and that both of his wives were here. Admittedly, he was sure that he would not be able to walk straight now that exhaustion had set in. Leaning his face into Tanishe's neck, one of his hands grazed the back of Neena's, showing silent affection and devotion to both of them without having to say a single word. Tiredly, he leaned back to give them both a smile, "I hurt my wrist," he said slowly, "Would you look at it?" his question was for Tanishe, "And make sure that our tent is set up for the night? We're making camp."
The order had most of the Zaire tribe suddenly scrambling off to start setting up their own tents. Usually, they would set up a little further from the border for the night, but Hasani was not going to force anyone to walk further, most especially himself. "I think I'd also like to sleep," his smile was sheepish, and he tiredly ducked away from both of his wives and started his slow lumbering after the rest of the tribe before one of them could knock him upside the head for his stupidity.
The adrenaline did wear off the moment his feet touched sand and the leier sighed deeply as Tanishe helped him off the camel. He leaned heavily against the creature so as not to distribute his weight too brutally on his young wife. He was very sure that Tanishe was cross with him. She rarely chastised him at all, and though her words were as sweet and gentle as always, there was an impatience there that Hasani couldn't ignore. Giving his leierin a weak smile, he leaned in to brush his lips against her forehead, a deepset tiredness in his bones now that the activity had halted.
Hasani did not have a moment to apologize before Neena stormed up to he and Tanishe, and then his dark eyes were settled on the form of his second wife. Her declaration that she got to pull three dangerous stunts without him complaining because his own had been absolutely insane actually made him laugh. It was a short, barking thing, but his shoulders shook with continued humor. The man shook his head and eyed his second wife.
"I think this one stunt of mine is payback for all of the fear you have caused me in the past, Neena," he declared, "We can negotiate your dangerous tendencies later." With humor still in his gaze, the man winked at his second wife and then held a lightly trembling hand out to her in order to get her to come to him. When she was also in his arms, tucked in against the opposite side as Tanishe, he found himself brushing his lips against Tanishe's forehead and then Neena's.
"I am sorry," he said slowly, hoping the two of them had calmed down enough not to kill him in his sleep that night. "My mind was only on the idea of stopping the loss of life and valuable resources, rather than my own health," the man murmured his excuse low, shooting a few of his warriors a look when they loudly agreed with his choices. A slight shake of his head and a mouthing of 'not now' had them quieting down. He would deal with them later, especially because Hasani knew they would have all done the same if given the chance.
In that moment, he was glad that he was safe and that both of his wives were here. Admittedly, he was sure that he would not be able to walk straight now that exhaustion had set in. Leaning his face into Tanishe's neck, one of his hands grazed the back of Neena's, showing silent affection and devotion to both of them without having to say a single word. Tiredly, he leaned back to give them both a smile, "I hurt my wrist," he said slowly, "Would you look at it?" his question was for Tanishe, "And make sure that our tent is set up for the night? We're making camp."
The order had most of the Zaire tribe suddenly scrambling off to start setting up their own tents. Usually, they would set up a little further from the border for the night, but Hasani was not going to force anyone to walk further, most especially himself. "I think I'd also like to sleep," his smile was sheepish, and he tiredly ducked away from both of his wives and started his slow lumbering after the rest of the tribe before one of them could knock him upside the head for his stupidity.