In the Place Beyond the Jungles

Log Info

• Title: In the Place Beyond the Jungles

• Emitter: Cuemoni

• Characters: Cuemoni, Seldan, Zeke

• Place: Zeke and Cuemoni's home

Rain has turned to snow by the time that the trio reach the home in which Zeke and Cuemoni have decided to make their nest. It's dark out, but between the three, there's ease enough in traveling that sees them up to the door safe and sound, even in the small woods that are present on the property. A stream-fed pond outside might look more inviting for fishing in the warmer months, but for now is more ornamental than anything. The outside shows signs that Zeke and Cuemoni have begun to try and tame the exterior, a small hearth seated on a wheelbarrow next to some tamed patches of land suggests that the two have been working on containing the weeds and tall grasses. It is a work-in-progress.

Cuemoni fishes for her keys to the house inside of a bag on her person. "This one apologizes, honored kin, that the house is not up to good standards yet," she says. "But it is a structure that provides shelter, and there is a bed ready for you in the guest room."

She finds the keys and goes about unlocking the door. "Ay. Softskin houses and locks and keys," she grumbles. It's a little hard to handle the keys, but she manages.

Zeke seems lightly amused by Cuemoni's grumbling as he allows her to unlock the door, but he is also keeping an eye out on their surroundings in case they were followed. Even more than that however, he keeps his attention on Seldan who he expects is likely on high alert after the incident at the temple.

Rain or snow, Seldan proves himself sure-footed in the wilderness, and untroubled by either weather or darkness, conjuring a blue-gold-silver mote of light to attach to the tip of the elkhorn, yew, and steel bow over his back. Indeed, as expected, if Zeke is watchful, he is downright wary, walking largely without comment and tensing at every twig snap or branch.

"Fear not," he replies to Cuemoni in low tones once the lock is released. "Is your hearth sound? I have a means to swiftly conjure fire." His eyes, too, shift periodically to Zeke, knowing the other's difficulties in cold and snow.

"The fireplace is ready for use," Cuemoni replies as she pushes in the door, ushering in Zeke first and sort of looks to Seldan to see if he has a preference--as a protector-servant of the Dreaming Dragon--on whether she goes in before him or after him. At any rate, she makes it inside.

The house is a humble thing. It's one story, but it's a fairly open space, with a fireplace, a kitchen, and a hall that leads into three rooms. "Your room is the second one in the hall, honored kin," Cuemoni informs him, before she quietly sets about the business of putting logs into the fireplace for Seldan to light.

In truth the heavy chill is indeed a hardship for Zeke. The colder it gets, the more lethargic he feels, and with the long walk and snowfall... He's rather exhausted. The incident at the temple was not terribly helpful either. He is grateful then when Cuemoni ushers him inside, and though he knows that he should start the fire himself the blue-scale ends up carefully sitting down instead, shuddering several times from the chill.

He also knows that he should make some tea for Seldan, or at the very least attend to him as a good host should in his kin's first visit to his nest, but his eyes are heavy and he finds himself taking long blinks instead.

Without hesitation, Seldan signals that Cuemoni should precede him into the house, and once all are inside, he turns and fishes from his knapsack a wedge a few inches long and an inch or so tall, crafted of heavy, sculpted iron. This he shoves into the crack at the bottom of the door with a booted foot, forcing its sharp tip into the crack and wedging the door closed without comment.

He seems unconcerned with Zeke's failure to make tea, instead striding over towards the hearth being prepared and pulling from a different pouch what appears to be a tiny glass bead. This in hand, he waits for Cuemoni to finish laying the fire, then places the bead at the bottom of it and speaks a word. Instantly, it bursts into cheery campfire-style light, flooding the room with warmth and seeming to burn all on its own.

Only when the campfire is lit does he return to the door and move to divest himself of pack and weapons, laying each aside near the door and following with his boots. The light is dismissed with a gesture, and he turns back towards the hearth, turning to survey the place for the first time. "You are kind, both of you," he murmurs. "Have you provisions, or shall I hunt?"

"We have some things in the kitchen," Cuemoni responds, gesturing to the kitchen. "This one acquired some preserves a day ago at a market. There is a loaf of bread we have in a box, and dried meats as well. This one may also prepare beans or lentils."

But she looks at Zeke and kneels down to him, offering her clawed hand out to him in that way she always does. "Cihuaa, do you need this one to make the tea?" she asks. "You must have been tired by the walk. This one apologizes..."

She makes a saddened sound. "If it were not for this one's tribal relation coming, we would not have had to make the journey back in such poor conditions," she says. "It is unkind on multiple measures, what Yaonemitl did."

Zeke blinks at Cuemoni. It takes a moment for him to realize in fact, that Seldan and her have been talking to him, and he realizes a bit belatedly that the cold has affected him even more than he expected that it would. "Tea would be good." He says gently, nodding to himself. Something warm to push the coldness in his body. "Thisss one sssshould make tea."

He only needs to remember where in the house they've put the tea pot. Zeke stubbornly makes to rise to his feet. "Where isss the tea pot?" The words are a low murmur mostly to himself.

Concerned, Seldan approaches Zeke, realizing that torpor into which the bluescale has settled. "Kin. I will get the tea, if you will tell me where the kettle is."

He continues to watch Zeke, but answers Cuemoni. "More than unkind. That one intends the good of none save himself, and it is in my mind that he will stop at nothing to have you."

"This one thinks it is in the kitchen." Cuemoni rises to her feet, too, but she makes a rumbling sound in her chest that's associated with comforting and soothing. "Let honored kin retrieve the teapot, Cihuaa. This one can try to warm you a little with touch if you permit it." The unfortunate implication doesn't even come to mind there. She's focused entirely on caring for Zeke.

She makes the sith-makar equivalent of a sigh. "Yaonemitl was always ambitious," she says. "This one was requested by him, repeatedly, as a mate. He believes that he is a chosen warrior of Xiuhcoatl, the spirit that this one's tribe is named for, and to make hatchlings with this one would help save the tribe from dwindling numbers."

Her golden eyes are dark for a moment. "This one has no interest in such," she says. "Not with anyone, and certainly not with him. The fact that he uses the Elder's death to request such of this one again even though this one has told him no... It is disrespectful. Shameful. The tribe suffers if he is truly their leader now."

Zeke was a trifle distracted with his thoughts of making tea for a moment, even managing to get entirely to his feet, but his lethargy makes his mind skip around the conversation and he forgets the idea of tea entirely at hearing about Yaonemitl once again. Unlike his usual self, he feels his tail twitch and collide irritably with the floor. The threat to Cuemoni is an unbearable thought to him, and he finds himself growling slow and low in his throat.

"To ssspeak falssse prophecy asss he did!" Zeke shakes his head and reaches out more gently to Cuemoni. "He may try again, but he will not find sssuccesss in sssuch an endeavor." His anger is an unwise emotion, the rush of adrenaline makes him feel weak rather than strong.

The thud of Seldan's stockinged feet on the floor of the kitchen speaks to his own anger as he strides in to retrieve the teakettle in question. The *plash* of water pouring is followed by a quick word in an unfamiliar tongue, and when he re-emerges, he is preceded by what appears to be a floating teakettle. At his gesture, it floats over towards the hearth and, after some uncertainty and some searching, hangs itself on a hook within, over the fire.

Somewhat distantly, the paladin comments as he does this, "The warrior shames his tribe and his totem with such behavior. Lies. Blasphemy. Cowardice, to flee when confronted with his lies. Disrespect. It is in my mind," he falls silent while he wrestles with the placement of the kettle, resuming only when it hangs safely from its hook, "that he lies in the grip of overweening pride."

Cuemoni reaches out with her other hand to stabilize Zeke, to make sure he doesn't fall over. She leans in close, nuzzling the tip of her snout against Zeke's in an affectionate way. "He will not," she says. "This one knows he will inevitably fail at his goal with this one. But..."

She makes a thinking sound, a momentary hum. "This one... would ask Cihuaa and honored kin both to aid this one, as the Xiuhcoatl tribe does not deserve such an arrogant and prideful man claiming visions. This one cannot assume that this one is the only facet that Yaonemitl is claiming false visions about. There may be other aspects of the tribe that he is claiming as his in false prophecy--and such, this one cannot ignore."

A displeased rumble leaves her. "This one knows that neither Cihuaa and honored kin have blood-stake in this one's tribe... But this one cannot ignore a tribe led by someone whose heart is greedy, blasphemous, and cowardly. This one... must find the spirit Xiuhcoatl."

Zeke is utterly grateful for Cuemoni's hand to offer him stability, and he allows himself to relax somewhat. More importantly perhaps, the heat of the fire is also starting to filter into the room, and though it will take some time for it to be truly warm, even this small amount of heat is enough for his cold scales to notice. He shivers uncomfortably. "Thisss one will aid you in what-ever way that thisss one can."

He squeezes Cuemoni's claw gently. "Perhapsss onsce thisss one hasss warmed up sssome, thisss one will have a good idea asss to how to do ssso."

When the teakettle is fully placed and warming by the light of the magically-started fire, Seldan turns, stepping away to allow Zeke to come closer to the fire. By that light, the moonlit sheen of the remaining armor is quiescent. "Shaman," he begins, his tone tightly controlled. "I shall aid you. For while it is so that I have no blood-stake in your tribe, uttering false prophecy within Her holy walls is blasphemy, and an insult to Her. Even were that not so, it is clear to me that he intends injustice against you, and against my kin. None of these things can I permit to stand unanswered."

"The summoning of spirits is neither my place, nor my skill, and little may I offer you in its means. I can but offer you a guardian, that you may do so unmolested."

Cuemoni hums happily as Zeke and Seldan both offer aid. "This one is completely and utterly grateful," she says. "That you both would stand by this one in a trial. It means all the world to this one. Honored kin Seldan, this one does not need you to be a spirit-caller--simply to stand with Cihuaa and this one and to aid in protection. This one will give offering to the Dreaming Goddess as thanks for your aid, and in the hopes that She is not so offended by Yaonemitl's actions that She would look unfavorably upon Xiuhcoatl's tribe."

She motions for Zeke to follow her as she goes to lead him closer to the fire. "This one can get blankets from nest-room," she offers Zeke, "for Cihuaa to feel warm and comforted?" As reluctant as she might be to leave his side, she's focused at the moment on helping him warm up.

Zeke moves only somewhat reluctantly closer to the fireplace, but the warmth is a lure that he can not ignore and he finds himself lowering gratefully beside it with a sigh of relief as the warmth begins to penetrate his scales and sink into aching muscles. In short, it feels very nice. "Do you know where the ssspirit Xiuhcoatl issss?"

"You are most kind," Seldan murmurs again, a rote response. A close look at him suggests that he is still as tightly wound as a spring, and remains under tight leash. Watching his kin move closer to the fire softens him, at least a little, and he lets out a breath. "Forgive me, Zeke. I should have asked sooner. Would you have my cloak? And what tea do you desire?"

"This one does not know its precise location," Cuemoni responds, lowering herself with Zeke so as to make his descent to the floor an easier trip that won't result in lizard-toppling. "This one knows of a place where it is said Xiuhcoatl dwells. But this one has never been. It is a place considered sacred to the people of the tribe. Only the Elder was permitted to go there."

She makes a thoughtful and rumbling noise. "But if this one makes negotiation with the spirits that guard the place--then our entry would be given sacred permission. Xiuhcoatl is supposed to care for the tribe--and the fact that his favor has fallen from the tribe, even before Yaonemitl has done such, should have been cause for the Elder to visit long ago. But she was sick and frail for a long time, and would not appoint someone to go in her place."

The blue-scale sith looks at Seldan in shock at his offer, and a waft of embarrassment rises from him. "Thissss one would not wisssh to take your sssource of warmth kin." He offers in a bit of a stumbling fashion. "Thisss one doesss not have a preference on the tea. Thisss one only needsss itss warmth."

He allows himself to fall silent a moment then to consider Cuemoni's words. "Will your tribe be dissspleasssed that you go? If there isss no other one appointed but a liar... then there iss no choisce, but thisss one doess not wissh to dissspleasse them."

For answer, Seldan offers the very smallest of tight smiles, only the ice blue eyes lighting with affection. "Zeke, well do you know that the cold does not trouble me." He strides towards the entrance, where his weapons, boots, some of his armor, and his cloaks have been left, and after a few seconds od digging around in his pack, returns with his woolen traveling cloak and a small box of a simple black tea. The cloak is offered to Zeke, and he sets the tea down by the hearth, but does not himself settle down, instead pacing the length of the room without comment and allowing the other two to speak of spirits.

"As a Shaman who works with spirits, this one is the one who would be most 'acceptable' to visit Xiuhcoatl," Cuemoni responds, "although it is true that our journey would be against the usual protocol, but nothing of the Xiuhcoatl tribe's current situation is usual protocol. This one must right the wrongs made--or this one would do a greater disservice in inaction than in the action of finding Xiuhcoatl."

She looks at Seldan with curiosity in her golden eyes. "This one... does not mean to pry, but is curious. Has honored kin been blessed by winter spirits to not feel their touch?"

Zeke smells heavily of embarrassment now. He does of course know that Seldan is immune to the cold - but he had not been thinking of this fact with his torpor-induced exhaustion. The blue-scale gratefully accepts Seldan's cloak and wraps it around himself for further warmth, ducking his head in appreciation. "Ssseldan isss a Ssshaman asss well asss a Warrior." He remarks to Cuemoni. He is actually starting to feel significantly better. "Magic aidssss him in keeping warm."

Seldan pauses in his pacing, and regards Cuemoni, sucking in a deep breath. Zeke, however, comes to his rescue, and he offers a small, polite smile. "My armor is enchanted to endure the elements. It is as kin says. The cold, though - it is a strange thing, but as my studies as a," here he pauses, as if hesitating on the word, "shaman have progressed, the cold touches me less and less. It is not winter spirits, nay, but -" His eyes lower uncertainly.

Seeing Seldan's reaction, Cuemoni lowers her head. "This one apologizes--this one did not mean to make honored kin uncomfortable with the request to know more," she says. "This one does not judge honored kin, if that is the source of discomfort. This one believes in learning from those who are disciplined in ways this one is not--this one has learned things from Cihuaa."

Here she gives a gentle laugh. "Such as the joy of waking up with the dawn to offer prayers," she says. "This one greets and welcomes the Dragonfather alongside Cihuaa's side, even if this one is not obligated to do so. This one is grateful to the Dragonfather for continuing to protect and aid Cihuaa, after all--so this one must return the kindness with kindness."

The blue-scale positively beams at Cuemoni. "It isss good." He flicks his tail closer to her own. "Thisss one hasss been learning of the ssspiritssss and the waysss of Cuemoni and her tribe ass well. Thisss one findsss great pleasssure in the learning of new thingsss, and the ssharing of thesse thingsss." Zeke is in truth, greatly that she wants to share such things with him, and the time shared with her is like an extra boon.

Seldan's eyes remain on the floor for a moment, but he seems to pull himself together and looks up. "Say rather that I know not quite how best to explain," he offers, unconsciously assuming that parade rest stance. "I am considered, I am told, most unusual among the People, and many do not - understand? How it is that I am shaman and warrior both, and yet am I not shaman in the way of my kin, or of you. Magic runs in my blood, and so, too, does the Dreamer offer me Her blessing, that I may better serve Her. She denies not to her followers the study of Her arts."

Cuemoni's tail goes to catch Zeke's, curling around his to offer all that more bit of comfort and warmth. She looks back up at Seldan, golden eyes regarding him thoughtfully as she says, "It would be unusual among many of the People, yes, but this one seeks to understand the ways of living that are beyond that which this one knows. It is one of many ways in which this one admires Cihuaa, who has lived among softskins for quite some time."

Happiness settles onto her features. "This one considers it noble for you to study both the magic of your blood and the Dreamer's blessing. It is good to be gifted in multiple ways. You know more ways of living than just the one, and you are stronger for it."

Zeke beams at the pair of them warmly, his expression betraying his joy at seeing them getting along so well. It makes him so happy that his cihuaa has taken not only interest in his kin, but actively seeks to comfort and encourage him - even as Zeke himself has done so many times. Zeke lets out a soft huff of pleasure. "Asss ssssoon asss we have warmed from the tea, we can make a meal together... if that isss acceptable to all?"

Not quite sure of what to do with the encouragement, Seldan still doesn't immediately move from his parade-rest stance, and regards them both. "Few ofd your people are so understanding." He draws in a deep breath, and lets it out, and it is at about this time that the teakettle sets to whistling. Immediately, he draws a sigil on his other palm that flashes gold-silver-blue, and gestures at the teakettle, much as if he was picking it up with that hand, but from distance. The teakettle removes itself from the fire and sets itself down on the hearth. "Have you cups?" he asks, as if belatedly realizing that those had not been brought out.

"I would be pleased to make a meal with you, if that is acceptable, or I shall keep watch while you work."

Cuemoni's golden eyes nictate, and she gives to Zeke a scent of embarrassment that she hadn't thought to get cups. "This one will fetch the cups," she says, untangling her tail from Zeke's and rising up from the floor. "You have done much, honored kin, so let me do this as a good host."

Thankfully, she's not gone very long, holding cups in her hand that are well suited for makari tea enjoyment--and one softskin mug, clearly acquired for Seldan in mind. They even match in the same color. "This one would love to make a meal with all of us," she says. "It is a joy to cook with Cihuaa. It would be a joy to cook with both Cihuaa and honored kin."

Zeke rumbles out a pleased noise, particularly when both Seldan and Cuemoni agree to his suggestion. With him aiding them, there will be no hesitation on his part in the enjoyment of such a meal, and with all of them working together... For the first time in Zeke's life he almost has a tribe of his own. It is small, only three wide, but it is his, and it fills him with joy.

While tea is poured, Seldan turns towards the entrance and sets about removing the rest of his armor. It takes him several minutes, unaided, but he sets about it methodically, and without requesting assistance. Piece by piece, it comes off one at a time, and appears to be quite elaborate in its construction. He is quiet as he works, reflecting on the interaction - and hesitating. Surely this will not last, something inside him whispers.

Cuemoni goes to pour a cup of tea first for Zeke, handing him the cup carefully, and then she looks at Seldan. "Do you want a cup as well?" she asks, choosing to take care of him before she would take care of herself. She quietly watches the armor come off, ruminating on how complex it is. Zeke's armor is, in its own way, quite complex, as well.

The blue-scale gratefully accepts the tea from Cuemoni, humming his thanks warmly and pulling the cup close to himself. It may be too warm for a moment to drink, but already the warmth of it is soothing in his claws. Zeke glances toward Seldan as the other man divests himself of his armor. "Do you require any assssssisstance kin?"

"Do you find yourself warmed enough to leave the fire only, Zeke. As to tea, I would have a cup, when this is done, but I would move more freely. Do you pour it now, when I have finished, it shall be ready to drink." Seldan answers both questions without turning, and lays one of his pauldrons aside after some struggle.

Piece by piece, the armor is removed, and laid with the weapons and gear. Anyone seeking to use the front door now would be hard-pressed to do so, for the paladin has piled his gear against it, atop the wedge driven into the crack at the bottom of the door. This does not look to be accidental.

Cuemoni pours a cup for Seldan and then finally a cup for herself, resting the teacup by the teapot where he might be able to access it later. "This one is unfamiliar with armor such as yours, or this one would assist," Cuemoni says with more than an ounce of regret as she takes a seat next to Zeke. "But this one thinks the way you are piling the gear on is quite clever." It's a genuinely given compliment.

For the first time in a long time, Zeke seriously considers Seldan's words. Normally, he would get up and help regardless of his own comfort. However Seldan and Cuemoni have been gradually teaching him to take better care of himself. As much as he wants to help his kin, if he does so, he might take chill again and be unable to assist in making the food. Something that would only trouble Seldan and Cuemoni later. While he does feel a fair bit more warmed now, he hasn't had any of the tea to drink yet, and the warmth of the fire has not sunken deep enough into his bones for him to be able to carry it with him for any length of time. "Thisss one will remain here then."

They are tentative words. However, after he says them he gets a small idea that makes him brighten. "Cuemoni, perhapsss Ssseldan and thisss one could direct you in aiding him? That way he can warm himssself more quickly and you can learn sssome-thing of how sssuch armor worksss?"

"As you - will." The same small enchantment that Seldan used to lift the teapot is now turned to his own gear, and used to reach buckles and straps that he himself cannot reach. It seems to require some concentration on his part, but is effective enough. He falls into silence, but as the pieces come off, they do so to reveal a layer of padding beneath the metal. "My thanks. It is not the first time I have found it needful to baar a door."

Cuemoni's golden eyes light up when Zeke suggests the idea. She puts aside her own teacup for the moment and walks up to Seldan to try and study--and help--the man, even if his magic is currently expertly employed in the matter. "Helping and learning from you will help this one in helping Cihuaa with his armor," she says. "This one had abstained from such because this one did not want to accidentally hurt Cihuaa in his donning of armor."

She rumbles appreciatively. "This one learns many things from honored kin. It is good, it is good. It is... odd, that this one is pleased for this outcome of Yaonemitl's intrusion. The Warrior may have blasphemed and threatened, but he has united all three of us together. It is the worst outcome he could have hoped for--but something that this one greatly appreciates. The home feels more like a home for honored kin being in it with this one and Cihuaa."

Zeke feels a touch of relief, but more pride and joy at the fact that Cuemoni and Seldan again accept his idea so readily. He is pleased to be able to say to Cuemoni the instructions that are necessary to assist Seldan out of his armor, even if he himself is not capable of doing the task himself. "Thissss one isss glad too. We are ssstrong together." He says warmly, continuing to offer a few words here and there to assist.

Together. In many ways, it is a strange thing for Seldan, who has known many allies and few whom he may truly call friend. "Your warrior has erred," he agrees, turning so that Cuemoni may see what Zeke is instructing her to do. In the meantime, he focuses on those things he can reach.

With the turquoise-scale to assist, even with instruction, the work goes quickly, and before long, he is able to shuck the padding layer beneath the armor and turn to seek the more familiar shirt and trousers from his pack. However, the act of doing so reveals that the man is positively covered, front and back, in tattoos. A thousand image, a collage, really - of faces, places, animals and things. A furry tail wraps around one bicep, its owner a cat curled up asleep on the back of his shoulder. Mountains on the other shoulder. A set of arches, flags a-flying. All of it is centered on a set of symbols that trail up his spine from hips to the back of his neck, at heart level the crescent and sphere of Eluna.

Cuemoni inspects the tattoos that are revealed to her with a thoughtful noise from her. Tattoos are not really a thing in makari culture, given the difference between scale and skin, so she's obviously quite curious. "This one... does not mean to pry, but is wondering about all of the artwork on you, honored kin," she says. "They appear to have many meanings. Are they... Magic markings? Or just artwork on canvas of flesh?"

She returns to Zeke's side and gets her tea, her tail resuming to curl around Zeke's tail again. "Is the tea good for you, Cihuaa?" she asks softly, checking in on him to make sure he's okay.

Zeke is actually sipping his tea happily by the time that Seldan and Cuemoni finish with Seldan's armor. Thankfully, he is also feeling quite a bit warmer thanks to it as well. "It isss very good." He comments gratefully, curling his own tail around Cuemoni's as well. "Thisss one isss grateful to you that you aided Ssseldan with hisss armor ssso that he could join usss more quickly."

"That do I not wholly know," Seldan answers, surprised by the question even as he reaches for loose shirt and trousers, what appears to be his preferred attire. "Some are magical, though their meaning is - difficult to explain." Hesitation there. "Others - simply appeared. I see new ones, now and then, though I have seen none new in some time. I had thought to learn more of them, when there be leisure to do so."

The clothing is quickly slipped over his head, and he gestures that they should return to the fire. "My thanks. I would hear more of this Xiuhcoatl, if it please you. What manner of spirit would you be calling forth?"

"Xiuhcoatl is said to be a serpent," Cuemoni replies, remaining close to Zeke. "A spirit who takes the form of such a creature, whose dominion is the balance between fire and water. It was he who rerouted the flow of lava from an erupting volcano away from the tribe, long ago, and the tribe named itself after him in thanks. His blessing and protection is seen in the hatching of a turquoise-scaled hatchling once every fifty-two years--it is the sacred cycle in this one's tribe."

A worrying hum comes from Cuemoni as she recounts the story. "It is believed we have fallen out of Xiuhcoatl's favor. This one was hatched one hundred and four years ago. The hatchling who bore Xiuhcoatl's scales fifty-two years ago... did not survive his first year. And in the past year, there were none hatched with Xiuhcoatl's scales, and less and less hatchlings have survived their first year in recent years, as well. It must be..."

Cuemoni hums again. "This one has thought perhaps there is something out of balance. When this one learned the ways of spirit-working and nature-working from the old Elder, this one was stressed the importance of balancing fire and water. This one favors fire over other elements, but strives to balance it with water. The wildfire does not die without intervention from the healing rain. Perhaps there is something within the Xiuhcoatl tribe that is out of balance... Or there is something within Xiuhcoatl that is out of balance, that he cannot fix alone. Nor would this one be able to fix it for him without aid."

Zeke hums thoughtfully at Cuemoni's explanation. "Perhapssss... the ssspirit isss ssick? Or injured?" If so... could Zeke heal such a thing? In truth he knows little about the spirits, his own abilities stemming only from his connection to the Dragonfather, nor did he learn much about the spirits - even of his own tribe - due to the way that he had been raised away from them. It had only been years later in reconnecting to other tribes that he'd begun to learn things anew.

Seldan seems to move much more freely once out of the metal shell, and while he casts the odd glance to the door, he seems to slowly be relaxing, at least somewhat. He picks up his cup of tea from the hearth and sips at it, listening. The idea of being born over a hundred years ago, and yet seem so young - he knows that the sith-makar lead longer lives than humans, but in truth it is hard to picture.

"I - know little of the People's ways," he begins carefully. "But with your Elder gone to the water, and the leader of the tribe a churl such as that one - who else among your tribe could speak with the spirit?"

"Sick or injured, possibly," Cuemoni says in response to Zeke's question. "In which case--he must be healed. And this one knows of no better healer than Cihuaa." Here she gives Zeke an affectionate nudge of the snout again. "Spirits do get hurt and must heal. So it is a possibility that this one cannot rule out."

She looks to Seldan. "This one can," she says, "once this one is in the area with the spirit. There are other shamans in the tribe, but they are more focused on other types of magic or are not as experienced as this one. This one was once foretold of in a vision by the Elder Chimalxochitl to leave the jungles--which she interpreted as that this one would find what was needed to save the tribe abroad in the land of softskins, or to start a new path and leave the tribe to die--and something new would be reborn in its place, as the ashes make things anew in the wake of a wildfire."

Here, she tenderly looks between her Cihuaa and her honored kin. "This one understands the vision," she says. "For this one has found that which is needed in the place beyond the jungles. This one has Cihuaa. This one has honored kin."