The sun was starting its slow descent to the horizon by the time Jorah stepped out of the Jorah temple. He and his uncle had arrived earlier that morning and had immediately headed to the synagogue to pray. Rabbi Tacitus and Daan had pulled Naftali aside to ask questions about the Greeks in Israel, while Rabbi Eelis had offered to teach him the history of the Judah city. As much as Jorah enjoyed learning, he'd started the day tired, and by the end, he'd been struggling to keep focus. Eelis suggested that he perhaps have some water and then go to the family that had offered to host him. So here Jorah stood, a satchel of clothes in hand, Uncle Natfali having chosen to stay with one of the Rabbi's families. Arela's friend had extended an invitation when she'd heard of his travel, and he'd gratefully agreed after hearing of the small space that he'd be sharing with two much younger boys. In other circumstances, he would have sucked it up just to spend more time with his mostly elusive uncle, but things had changed.
Only a few weeks ago, Tiras had demanded that Jorah help recruit like-minded anti-greeks. Jorah had skirted around an answer, admitting to himself that he was scared of the reaction that Tiras would have if he outright said no. He couldn't imagine taking advantage of people at their most vulnerable, offering them war and anger in a place of peace. He was so very grateful to be away, far far away, from his eldest brother. He'd told himself that he'd give Tiras an answer when he got back, something soft enough to keep his temper cool- but not force Jorah into any uncomfortable position that he didn't want to find himself in. He had a few more days in Jorah and then the three-day trip back, plenty of time to form an excuse.
He blinked a few times, clicking his tongue as he tried to recall the path that had been described. He wasn't too worried about getting lost, there were enough people loitering, and he didn't doubt they'd help him. He didn't want to inconvenience anyone so he'd attempt to navigate on his own first. Musing the directions in his head, he walked with purpose down the streets of Jorah. He stopped at a house he hoped was Yonita's, and approached the door to rap his knuckles against. After the sharp sound, he glanced down at the clothes he wore. They were mostly clean, a little dusty from travel but acceptable, his mother would have prefered him to change. He tried to pat down the dust, a frown creasing his face as he suddenly began to wonder about how the next few days would look like to him. He didn't know Maeri, Arela and Hazael did, and he wondered how such different people could like the same person. He supposed that it didn't matter, as long as they truly didn't mind putting him up for a few nights. He hadn't stopped for dinner, not wanting to be unnecessarily distracted from finding the house.
His eyes flickered up and he straightened his back as he heard footsteps. He cleared his throat and tried to offer a smile to the woman who opened the door. "Shalom aleichem. Is this Yonita of Josiah's home? If so, I'm Jorah of Avriam; I think I'm expected?"
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