Communication

Her form.. muscular and feminine.. the length of her bare spine calling to me from across my wagon. I crossed the distance quickly.. not bothering to step lightly as the turian carpets muffled the sounds well enough she would have enough difficulty triangulating my direction before I hit her from behind... One fist full of hair.. the other full of the flesh of her left thigh..

I was not gentle with this woman..

she...
was not gentle with me.

She is of the plains, a dark skin beauty trained for battle. Her teeth sharpened like that of a larl... and her body scared some by her own hand. I took her from the wagons of traders.. Unnatural dweller worms hanging the bones of their dead from their own wagons. They sickened me.. I did not even want to get close enough to kill them.. in fact, as it happened I did not have to. It was fucking sweet the way they fell to my arrows pouring out of the wagon at just the right speed! I love it when everything works like I want it to!

She landed sprawled on her belly already reaching back behind her to find purchase clawing my leathers, trying to give herself enough leverage to roll over and face me. Trying to use those fucking teeth of hers! Truth be told.. that is one of the reasons I enjoy her. She reminds me how good it is to be tuchuk! The strength of the plains and bosk are in her.. She is not weak. If she were.. I would have broken her by now. If she were weak she would be sleen bait. If she were weak I would not want her.
I did not allow her enough time to grasp my leather before I slammed her body hard against the floor of the wagon. I yanked her head back and sank my own teeth into the back of her shoulder until I felt her body relax beneath me.. There is a strength to those small gestures of surrender, they feed me.. they drive me. I let go of her shoulder and growled into her ear..

"I'm going to hurt you."

my statement was simple.. I needed her to understand on a very basic level. I needed her to know. When she relaxed into the floor she pulled her arms back in, resting her palms flat on the carpet her movements became slow and sedate, deliberate she pushed her torso up from the floor twisting back to look at me she spoke..

"I know"

Her tone low.. even soothing. She rarely spoke to me.. Rarely spoke unless I demanded it of her. I released my fist from her hair.. allowed her the movement to speak... to answer.. to look at me. That was the way between us.. It worked for me. It seemed to work for her. She no longer spoke of killing me.. she didn't even try very hard. Even seeking me out in her own way.. with her own strength. She did her chores.. cooked, gathered fuel, did the morning watering of my sleen... She did what she had to because she is no fool. Occasionally.. she did something she wanted to to show me her strength and I respected that. I have not chained her to my wagon in many hands now. She has not made me regret that.

I hurt her that evening.. in many many ways. It wasn't the paga..Although there are times I would blame the paga. I wanted to feel it... I needed to. Her pulse in my palm.. her fear splattered across my chest. I needed to feel it solid like the plains, like the sky.. not faded and weak falling out from beneath me into oblivion leaving me un sated and alone.

If nothing else I would keep her simply because she can do this for me, and live.

Of Sleen and Kaiila

I am not an un scarred boy.. I am not a coward and I am not weak or ill equipped. I am Tuchuk! I am proud! I am favored and strong and I will walk among the people of the first fires because they are the best of the Tuchuk. I am one of the best.. and yet I have come to the realization that there are a few Tuchuk tricks I have yet to learn. I am determined though.. sleen may not be adept at learning a new Master but they can learn new tricks.

But let me back up.. alittle

This sleen pups born in the northern grasses were particularly difficult... I lost two out of eight in Caoh's litter before they dried off and two more looked to be candidates for the cull which is a story of its own entirely. Mena only had three pups which frankly was better than I expected. two male and one female and I thanked the sky for that little gray female. Mena is my fathers best bitch.. brought out of her kennels one last time. A breeding won in a gamble over a vulo egg balanced on end, also another story entirely. She is old, well past her breeding prime, an animal I grew up with and have a great deal of respect for. I did not want to miss an opportunity to own one of her litters. She was bred to Morow, an impressive stud who's breeding is sought after among my clansmen for his heavy bodied strength and large wider set jaw line. Morow is owned by Flynn the Head of the Sleen Handlers Clan and the coveted breeding to Morow, an arrangement between Flynn and my Father Darsohk. Damned if this little bitch wasn't going to make a name for me among the top kennels in my clan!

The smaller male pup from Mena's litter will be traded to my uncle for an unrelated male of excellent breeding. The son of Afton, an excellent sire from the kennels of the former Ubar Karym of the sleen handlers clan. Yes.. it was a lot of years ago.. and a lot of breeding.. but the bloodline was noteworthy and the pup of excellent conformation. The Larger male pup would be traded to Flynn for next seasons breeding of Caho to Morow. That brings me back to where I started. Caho was line bred to her own father and the surviving pups are exceptional animals. That is the gamble with selective line breeding of sleen, you win and you get animals of exceptional quality, traits distilled from one bloodline carefully...however the other option is not pretty.. distilling the flaws in a bloodline leading to the loss of entire litters. You end up with an entire season of wasted work and food and a littler of pups with exceptional defects who usually die at birth. The six pups from Caho's litter still left, two of which will be traded to Cana for my a kaiila. Yes.. Cana has my kaiila.. and I have her sleen and there is nothing more to the story but to wait for the laughter to die down. Except perhaps having two of my sleen given to sons of the former Ubar Ba'atar which is just another notch in my belt. Two more will be traded to Commander Fonce... the price is still to be negotiated but I do have a few ideas in mind.. and the last will be kept in my own kennels.

Cana.. has.. my.. Kaiila...

There is a trick here... I just need to find it.