Life was meant to be lived. This was the lesson of the flower kingdoms. Everywhere, everyone and everything sought to revel in life. The rains fell vastly and the flowers sucked in the waters and ached towards the sun. The people congregated in the warmth of inns and homes, of good food and better drink amid the steam. In the mountains, the N’yari basked in their own strength and ever sought for challenge and dominance. The knights fought for fame and an ever growing retinue. And the witches too sought knowledge and were not afraid to practice their art. That was the lesson of the flower kingdoms. Life was for living.
So Giriel Bruinstead, who was large and hungry, and full of life yet, started to recover. First with rest and massage and soft cushions for muscles that had experienced days of walking and constant strain as she had put her whole self into maintaining the spell, had willed each and every body out of hell to their ultimate salvation. Her mind and her thoughts were simply not prepared to race ahead of such exhaustion and so first was to ease out that tension and breathe. To rest, to relax, and to let the magic of time do its work and restore her to life.
Then there was the matter of food and the banquet. Seated as she was by Cathak Agata, she felt that she ought to wait on her host, but the Red Wolf lived up to her name in many ways and seemed to have no hesitation at their meal (especially so when it pleased her guests for her to have such freedom) and so Giri in her turn chose to enjoy the banquet. There was fine sake in abundance, and peppered meat grilled with sweet, sticky rice. And from the rivers salted fish eggs with flavor that seemed to burst in her mouth and deserved to be savored one tiny bite at a time.
Nor let it be said that Giri was an ungrateful guest, for with each service and each delicacy, she thanked her host graciously, hands together, and offered a bow before she ate. Abundance was never to be taken for granted, no matter how common it seemed and Agata was being a gracious host indeed.
There was still a little fear gnawing at the back of Giriel’s mind. Many things, many people were out of place and she ought to worry about them. But sitting so close to Red Wolf, it was difficult indeed to remember why exactly she ought to be worried about them. And more pressingly was Agata herself, who seemed always somehow larger than life even at her rest. She always was the center of things. And Giri wanted her, wanted to feel her, touch her warmth, have her wrap her all up with those strong arms and stronger legs. Yes, Giri was hungry, and bold, and though she did not violate decorum, she sat as close as was permitted to her hostess, and even as she ate and drank, her eyes were not shy as she met the Red Wolf’s gaze and did not look away.
So Giriel Bruinstead, who was large and hungry, and full of life yet, started to recover. First with rest and massage and soft cushions for muscles that had experienced days of walking and constant strain as she had put her whole self into maintaining the spell, had willed each and every body out of hell to their ultimate salvation. Her mind and her thoughts were simply not prepared to race ahead of such exhaustion and so first was to ease out that tension and breathe. To rest, to relax, and to let the magic of time do its work and restore her to life.
Then there was the matter of food and the banquet. Seated as she was by Cathak Agata, she felt that she ought to wait on her host, but the Red Wolf lived up to her name in many ways and seemed to have no hesitation at their meal (especially so when it pleased her guests for her to have such freedom) and so Giri in her turn chose to enjoy the banquet. There was fine sake in abundance, and peppered meat grilled with sweet, sticky rice. And from the rivers salted fish eggs with flavor that seemed to burst in her mouth and deserved to be savored one tiny bite at a time.
Nor let it be said that Giri was an ungrateful guest, for with each service and each delicacy, she thanked her host graciously, hands together, and offered a bow before she ate. Abundance was never to be taken for granted, no matter how common it seemed and Agata was being a gracious host indeed.
There was still a little fear gnawing at the back of Giriel’s mind. Many things, many people were out of place and she ought to worry about them. But sitting so close to Red Wolf, it was difficult indeed to remember why exactly she ought to be worried about them. And more pressingly was Agata herself, who seemed always somehow larger than life even at her rest. She always was the center of things. And Giri wanted her, wanted to feel her, touch her warmth, have her wrap her all up with those strong arms and stronger legs. Yes, Giri was hungry, and bold, and though she did not violate decorum, she sat as close as was permitted to her hostess, and even as she ate and drank, her eyes were not shy as she met the Red Wolf’s gaze and did not look away.