Firefly Glen [PHE] winding grove

camp layout reference image

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callyope had made sure to tell @Storm that she was free to come or stay as she wished. perhaps with a bit of a warm gaze that suggested it might be good to see the woman there.

yet she knew regardless that she must be here.

when things had been settled in moonglow's camp and the humble camp of moongrove, she made to walk about and mingle freely. overwhelmed by how many lovely faces set up healing camps or joined hunting parties. she knew some, she did not know most.

she heard whispers that they were near the camps of akashingo and muat-riya. places she had only heard rodyn speak of. it was there she danced around now, hoping to catch glimpses of them and their words. their riches!

their camp was grand and beautiful, nothing spared despite the fact that their stay would be temporary. it felt like another home away from home, and there was peace and safety here. things were busy, and Toula spoke with her sons and daughters to educate them on each thing that she could. Toula saw to more ornaments being hung and worked, after, on building an altar to her patron Goddess. she felt Her here, watching. it was a relief.
a Mazoi alerted her to another’s approach. Toula spun in a slow circle, the fellahin accompanying her picking up the long end of the cape of furs she wore so it was not misplaced. another announced her to the one that danced near, and Toula smiled at the way in which she moved. 
and who might you be? the Pharaoh asks, stepping nearer in long and elegant steps.

the woman who met her was beautiful. shorter but cut in an athletic manner. dressed in furs. someone attended this royal woman. callyope wondered at once what it might be like to live in such a manner.

perhaps a bit girlishly she wondered what the men were like...

callyope nuiruk, daughter of moonwoman and sunman of camp moonglow, but builder of my own moongrove. she smiled with warmth and pride. i knew i must come meet you and yours at once.

moonglow—the pinnacle of the moon villages, Toula understood. moonwoman, sunman—this was their daughter. she was very beautiful, Toula observed unabashedly—she delighted in the very look of her. beautiful! 
this one sought to build something, too—moon grove. the eyes of the Goddess were bright. you must make them very proud, Toula commends with a warm smile. someday it is my hope for my own children to become kings and queens. they are very young now, but… well, I imagine moonwoman and sunman saw what I see in mine within you, when you were as young as they are now, her eyes sparkled as she dreamt aloud to Callyope, at ease in her presence. 
ah! I am glad that you did—it led you to me! tell me of your moongrove, she encourages, wanting to hear the dreams of this one—after all, Toula had shared her own!

she is everything that is good, callyope thought.

this woman, mother, sister. she radiated with her gold colors and it felt like any fear she might have had of a royal bled away. she is sharing dreams and callyope understood that these were dreams any mother of a village might hold for her children.

her cheeks warmed and her eyes dared to wet with emotion. something quickly blinked away!

oh! it is, well, it is meant to be humble. a place of hunting and song. trading too, but the hunting must be good for the trading to happen, no? there is some warm humor in her words. it was the wish of my sister, but now it is mine to carry.

and it is no burden to do so.

she laughs at the humor, but is enamored by the idea of song being such an important piece of this home. she was given pause, though, as the beauty spoke of loss. Toula was struck by this—struck by their similarities, the circumstances which had been placed before them by the Gods.
Toula stepped toward her, eyes softer than even before. her heart ached. you are capable. I can hear your heart—it is strong. your sister must be so proud… surely she watches, this Toula believed, wholeheartedly. will you share one of your songs with me? perhaps her favorite, Toula offered to be a place of comfort, then—and to keep her sister happy in the place beyond.

she wanted to cry. only barely holding it back! she instead focused upon the good, upon the songs that still carried on no matter who sung them.

there is a working song. perhaps you have already heard it from the moonglow camp...

yet she allowed herself to sing it in part now.

aya, aya aya!

the handsome boy there, he is staring at your face!

do not look, do not look

i will say the words loud so he will hear them:

'"what did your father ask in trade?'"

this song will live on for generations. if not forever! and in that i will have the memory of her voice always.

and maybe other camps would take this song too and carry it into their own work. the voices of many might be heard around the world forever. a comforting thought if she was to ever travel far.