Qeya River judge and jury

for @Sun Eater

blackfell found sun eater at the edge of the saatsine encampment. the storm that had caught he and @Gjalla had passed, leaving behind only a bitter chill that blackfell barely registered. he had put this off long enough.

he approached with crimson stare fixed on sun eater who stood ahead of him. instead of bowing like some fucking idiot, he stopped a respectful distance away, offering the chieftain the quaint, acknowledging dip of his head.

chieftain, he huffed. we haven’t spoken properly. seems wrong, seeing as i stand on your ground.

yes. it was wrong. sun eater watched the man with an implacable look, having found his scent mingled with that of his own wife and the woman gjalla, and also ice diver, at least once.

he had nothing to fear from his star eater, and yet his own coldness surged to the fore.

a man among so many woman who might prove fruitful was the oldest historical blade to be weighed against his own leadership.

a long stalking step of his legs carried him beyond blackfell; the single eye touched the other with a silent order to follow. "you know gjalla. you know my wife."

explain.

he will be honest, curt, upfront with sun eater.

there is no secrets to be had between men like them.

he follows; without question, crimson eyes narrowed upon the singular eye of the man. his own eye wound throbs in response, still swaddled in the healing salves of star eater.

we hail from the same lands, he speaks bluntly, in a grizzled rasp: i know only gjalla. your wife knows of me. nothing more.

next, an admission. almost as if to silently tell sun eater that he will no know threat from blackfell when it comes to his own woman. i seek to court gjalla.

"does she want you, new man?" sun eater growled in response. "you not hunt. you not take new name. you not even learn lanzadoii. yet you want wife. bah! you earn," snorted the chieftain. "then, if gjalla want, she take you when her time come."

it was good to dominate, to remind another, lesser man of his place in saatsine. with his mate potentially carrying young, sun eater had thrown a good deal of his patience away.

his remaining eye pinned to blackfell in expectant silence. gjalla had left the creek for star eater; this placed her in many ways above the new male, and he would do well to remember it.

blackfell chuckles at his harsh words, and yet they do not sink deep; if, at all. you are right. he says, casting a quiet glance at the man. perhaps i misspoke. i do not seek to have without first earning. a dip of his head.

stalking along at the backside of sun eater's flank, ears twitching quietly against the winter chill. if anything, that is comforting: the cold. remnants of home in the frosted air. now, he says: i have hunted with suliya. met the fierce antlers of a bull. he tilts his head, to show the man the curved arc that cuts his eye in half. tended to by the paws of his wife.

your caribou are mighty.

and it was a close sound made by caribou bulls which greeted blackfell's admission. suliya. he nodded in acceptance of the blood which had been shed and the wounds earned. 

"mighty." he turned the word over in his mind. "my wife. she save eye?" he inquired. the lanzadoii prized the healer, but sun eater in this moment felt as though he must do more for recognition. such skills were imperative to their ranging way of life.

he moved on, more amiable now, which for the chieftain was only an absence of hostility.

aye. he responds, not allowing any flicker of one such emotion to shed upon red eyes. though his interactions with star eater thus far had been grim, there was no cause for... hm. disdain. the woman had her opinions, she held them close, and such a thing deserved respect.

at the very least, acknowledgement. in light of beginning anew, blackfell was willing to forget—to let lie, and forgive. clinging to the past would bring about destruction.

as snow and ice crunch underfoot, he dims into silence, letting his head hang between shoulders that twitch with pent up frustration. his wound aches, but it is a dull ache; he's felt worse, seen worse. he does not wish to be complacent, not when time flows so quickly and sweeps past one in the blink of an eye. the eye is fine. it is saved, so why must blackfell rest?

he does not rest. he grows weary. so, to sun eater, he says: i will learn of your people. this he is resolute in. in time. he pauses, with the tilt of his head. if you permit.

"in time," and it was a tone of granting which rolled in his voice now. "caribou spirits test you. enough for me that you stay. shed blood. let gjalla choose."

"is lanzadoii custom to go away for days of seven. be alone from clan. when you come back, choice is made then to be bonded or to share nothing."

he did not expand upon this; the chieftain was silent, interminable gaze upon their caribou and the power of such represented bounty.

the more he learned, the more interesting this culture became. in ways that it was so different, so stark, from his own. he follows the movements of the chieftain man in momentary silence, reflecting on what he spewed.

caribou spirits. judgement. shit that sounded fairytale, and yet... here he was.

entertaining it. if only because he felt, deep down, he needed something to believe in. for once in his miserable fucking life.

he nods. aye. shared accent of his kin thick upon his tongue. i will go then. when? he didn't know. he assumed whenever the time came—blackfell didn't know yet when that time was, though.

more silence, save for the audible crunch of snow and ice and dead earth beneath the strong paws of beasts. he lingers his crimson gaze on the herd in the distance, watching as their mighty breaths billow into nothing. this language you speak, he pauses, ears twitching, i have heard words. his black head turns to settle again on the chieftain. how do i learn?

more specifically, who does he learn from—hopefully that is translated.

"you listen. star eater speak. ridgeback speak. ice diver speak. suliya speak. listen." only a short time might pass before blackfell was able to converse with some ease. "spill much blood. take new name when you learn lanzadoii."

it was simple enough.

but the saatsine were not simple; sun eater meant for them to dominate the taiga with sheer numbers when spring had turned to summer. "if lanzadoii woman choose you, she go away with you for that seven day. not alone."

listen.

he would listen, and listen well. some words he had already picked up on. he did not know what they meant, but they were locked within his steel trap of a mind. he would inquire about them from one of the individuals sun eater listed.

chin high, now. but his confidence not to outshine sun eater's.

aye. another short, stern reply. as if it is all he knows to say. he will not bother the chieftain with his presence any longer, and this is relayed when his stride slows, shoulders turning away from the man.

he says: we should hunt soon, chieftain. his parting invitation.

exit blackfell!

<3

"soon," he grunted in lanzadoii, watching this blackfell trek away.

sun eater trusted no man. it was only blackfell's pointed interest in gjalla which kept him from being upon the cutting block of suspicion.

he turned away, and they were both caught up among the herds.