#Skaravital

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[YVVO] June 2022 Prompt: Kopoem

The canyon walls called down to Skara as she stared up at them in awe. She was still considered too young, and not allowed to climb the cliffs as others had done. They were up there now, harvesting kiem from nests perched on twigs and in niches of the rock. Skara did not mind this; she knew the veltayem would later, but everything in this world must eat. This was a law she learned early on in these deserts of Bothea, that lives are built upon the bones of others.

Her father was nearly touching the sky with his long tail, scrabbling, matrah to reach a nearby root hanging from the sandy rock. Skara reached down to the head of her siune for support, clutching his fur tightly - not painfully - for comfort. Kanyo sat there, tongue lolled out with a happy grin. The siune pushed his head into Skara’s hand, panting softly.

Skara was nervous for her father, yes, and Kanyo seemed to know this. But the older yevat had done this a million times. He would be alright. His hand grasped the root securely, and he swung with little effort. She breathed out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes in the sunlight. That was when her mother called.

“Iskarsa!” The nickname had been given to her when she was ideyevat and liked to bite anything and everything. “Lahat!” Her mother was in the doorway of their little house, lithe and strong. She wore a belt strapped with knives made from mukaselerem, shining with pearlescent light, like it was coming from the inside of the weapons.

Skara trotted over, whistling for Kanyo to follow, which he did, close behind. When they reached the doorway, her mother ruffled the fur on top of both their heads. “Jalat, little ones. Ready to go venater?”

Kanyo’s ears perk up at this word, his tail beginning to thump as he giggles softly. “Sise!!” Skara began to dance around in a circle, stomping the baru excitedly. “Sise, sise, sise, yenelat!!” Kanyo started chasing her in circles, both of them giggling and falling down in excitement. Her mother watched with a smile, eyes filled with delight.

She broke the spell with another command, and to hand her daughter her small bag of supplies. “Uefi, iskarsa, Kanyo!” Skara was up in an instant, all serious and wide-eyed now. She caught her bag, rifled through it, and started to grin up at her mother again. There was enough food and supplies in here for a holteskavt, and she began to bounce on her heels as her yenelat saddled her with weapons and a small kiss. Her siune sat by her side, ready to run (and run and run and run). When Skara’s mother was ready to let her go, she waved them off. The pair raced along the dunes, minds buzzing with shared thoughts and words.

Before they had left, Skara’s mother told her of the hunt they were going to go on. A melysteryevat in town had spotted a herd of bokem wandering the sands, and traveled to their home outside of the village to request their services. Skara’s parents supplied the town’s inhabitants with what they needed - pelts, meat, honey, alcohol. Sometimes they would bring requests for certain animals or parts, and this older yevat had requested the meat of the bokem, and a few brought back alive for keeping as wool-makers. Her mother accepted it gladly. It was time for her daughter’s first solo hunt, and after they had worked out payment, the melysteryevat sat with Skara and told her the history of their town, so near the Burnt Lands.

Skara absorbed all she said, just as she had done before with her mother’s speech, dashing across dunes with Kanyo bounding easily. “The bokem are lasklej between us and the open flats, so all we have to do is catch up. It’ll be a matheiteskavt there and back if the laska doesn’t hesfer.”

Kanyo seemed to nod, tongue lolling with delight at the speed they were running at. "They run?” He asked, his language a little broken.

Skara frowned, tapping her hands anxiously. “Then we chase them down.”

Ma’ni and Kubo had hidden themselves behind the horizon line of the horaem when the pair stopped their sprint to rest in the shelter of a cave, sparking up a tekrast, the flame’s flowers licking up into the cool night air. Skara leaned against her friend, soft fur rustling in the night. Even though she was the deltelej daughter of a huntress, she was still young, and still tired easily. “Laj iskarsa?” Kanyo was talking to her, in a softer tone than usual. Skara roused herself with a little sigh of air and turned to face her hamama, whose face was cast into plains and valleys by the tekrast. "Skaravital." Kanyo had used her full name, so she sat up and turned to fully face him. He was smiling his little lopsided smile. Skara’s heart filled with tei, to hear her niune bond acknowledged by the siune.

"You said my yuda! Kanyo!" She hugged him tight to her, and his holnatiem perked up, his slim tail wagging as he snuggled into Skara. The ujem began to creep into the little pocket of thei from the flames as the pair held each other close, being comfort to one another in the maujo. “Laj ikanyonyo?” The little desiune curled in, tail over nose as he looked up at Skara. “A niere ve.”

Kanyo let out a sleepy giggle, closing his eyes. “Niere ve!” Skara looked to the stars with her siune, admiring the theyem that echoed above. Her hand rested on his head, and they were quiet together. The two sat close to their tekrast, as the night went on, branches and kindling crackling softly. Eventually, they rested, sleeping under the light of laamirem far away.

Skaravital was kuiyeskat. Her eyes had fluttered shut, and behind the lids, she was worlds away. Back at home, her father was laughing with pyan, sitting with neyem in their house, eating. Their laughs began to distort, become zoktlej, and Skara cowered outside of their gathering room, listening with shudders of julgust. The home itself crumpled like a Varveileil had landed on the roof. She hazaik with a start, trembling. Kanyo looked up with worry, his natem perking as he tilted his head. “Laj iskarsa?” his voice was curious in Skara’s head, calling to the yevat with concern.

She reached over and smoothed the ruffle between his natem, soothing his worry. “Sin is baik, ikanyonyo. Tukat vurukuiyeslej.” She pressed a little kiss to his forehead and took note of how far Ma’ni and Kubo had teskavter across the kivir. “Time to hesfi to the bokem, Kanyo!” She quickly packed their things, and the pair took off. They crested a hill together, and the laska was below them, making small sounds to each other. Skarvital took a deep breath, closing her aniem as she listened to the bokem.

Simple, verua words, such as “Bosem,” and “Nyem.” When the young yevat opened her aniem again, she was ready for the vanator, lyes gripping a knife on her belt. Her other laid on Kanyo’s agni, stroking his holnatiem and speaking to him softly.

“Laj vem hesfi, sis? Laskalej rekem loke the horaem.” She stood, and watched her lanky friend move towards the herd, predatory. Some of rekem anier Kanyo, but weren’t scared. They grazed and nibbled at scrub brush. Then the siune broke into a sprint, and began to round up members of the laska, those that were pellej and delte, circling them under the mountain overhang as Skara had told him to. Then she took her cue, and ran down the hill.

All in disarray, the bokem bleated in fear, and Skara collected the ones she could. Speaking to them softly in calming words, thanking them, she collected the pelem and meat. Kanyo kept the others calm, herding them to an area to feed, where the bokem quickly grew docile again. Skara collected him once her bags were packed with the bokem spoils. Kanyo wagged his feniru, careful to not scare the bokem behind him. Skara petted him. “Baik galula, ikanyonyo. Laj ahi katmaik tuhei?” Kanyo nodded, and yipped loudly at the laska, herding them back along their route.

Rekem juteskavter across the samak, the valkyalej laska teskavter towards tuhei, rekn herd of bokem narem tili the yevat mal siune. They approached the boundary of the loose shifting samakem, where rekn tuhei zemju.

The tuhei was gone. In its place, Varveileilem. Timbers and walls crushed under their bodies. The climbing cliffs with kiem and roots scorched up to the tips from their flame. Skara stopped in her tracks, dropping the sacks full of her vanator’s spoils. “Zadul…” she breathed. There was nothing to be seen of her niune. “Mulezo paname mepeus ovskrudem.” Skaravital sat, watching the pair of monsters cuddle into each other in the wreck of her tuhei. Kanyo slowly lowered himself next to her, his feniru wrapping around them both.

“Laj iskarsa, ne mal rekem?” Skara shook, her body trembling. Their laska of bokem had long since wandered, and she could not answer him. Instead, he followed as they climbed a path up the singed cliff face.The Varveileilem did not move for a very long time as the pair watched from atop the walls.

Eventually though, they moved. Flapping mightily away, Skara took her chance and scrambled down the walls and into the wreckage of her tuhei. Mulezo. Crumbled kopo shards, scraps of yupek. Her yenelat’s glittering sneihlej jewelry, a pair of piercings for the ears. She snatched them up and ran back to Kanyo just as the vurukuiyesem came back, settling into their tuhei. When she was settled, curled by her siune, she opened her lyes, revealing the ania staring back at her. “Ai Matia…laj totsie? Laj anik rekem?” She fastened the aniem to her eartips, and finally let herself cry, burrowing into the sand with Kanyo, shuddering sobs wracking her body.

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Skara watched her tuhei for many gaiem, waiting for the Varveileilem to come back. They had left after what sounded like a fight, and the burnt-out crumpled mess of her home went unused.

When they finally did return, she prepared her weapons, hefting them and ready to throw away her life in combat to avenge her niune. These mukarokem could not take them all away and not suffer.

The larger Varveileil approached the ruins when Ma’ni and Kubo were leaving the sky. She seemed to breathe in, and satisfied, let out a small chirp. In response, a few heads poked up. Ivarleveil, little ones, fresh from the kiem. They cheeped, excited to see their mother, and Skaravital lowered her weapons, anger dying away. She watched as they ate bokem meat, and played with one another. She watched as the chicks slept, bellies full. She watched their yenelat love them as hers had. “Laj sahatar ve ostvalaik, ve hal tukat uefi, eh ikanyonyo?” Skaravital turned to her beloved companion, and then towards the horizon line. She left, Kanyo trotting at her side, leaving behind her tuhei and niune forever.

After all, lives on Bothea are built on the bones of others.

#sky's words #yvvo #yevat #skaravital

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{YVVO} July Prompt 2022 - A String of Bad Luck

Ka'altuhe sighed. Zayetem gathered on the shelves of her home, knocking bottles and herbs to the ground. They hopped around, snuffling the ground and everything else. "Shit!" Her hands flew to her head at the sight of the destruction inside her home. “I can't have anything nice…” At her words, the Zayetem twitched their little antennae, looking at the old healer, standing in her doorway, with anger on her face. “Al Samakt and Al Hasmel, grant me luck…and gratitude.” She walked inside inside her house and began to pick up the shattered bottles and vials of her potions, sweeping little bone fragments into her hands and brushing them into a bowl, sliding books back into place on her shelves and shooing the Zayetem out through the door and into the jungle outside.

Leafy greens swallowed the little rabbit-like creatures as they disappeared into the underbrush. Trees swayed softly in a breeze that covered the jungle of Bothea, and another day began. Ma'ni and Kubo rose over treetops that reached for it, stretching long shoulders and sloughing off the cold night, coming to drink up the rays as Ka’altuhe cleaned and hummed to herself, a wordless little song like Ibuem in the night dew. She was a healer in the world of Bothea, and spent her days and nights inside a hut she had constructed herself. She often left her home to gather herbs and items, animal skins and sand to heat into glass. When she came back there were always a few critters inside, sniffing items and stealing a few of them.

Ka’altuhe often had to shoo them out and back into the jungle, taking the stolen things back to their proper places, organizing and correcting what the animals had done to her home, but this time it had ended up worse than usual. Mixtures she had spent weeks brewing were splattered into the dry dust of the ground, draining away into the sands to never be seen again, feeding the hungry earth. Ka'altuhe grumbled to herself, sweeping up the infused powder into a spare jar. Maybe it would be useful later.

And this is how her day went, repairing her home, helping the odd customer or two. Ma'ni and Kubo were high in the sky, and she sat with her lunch, broth reversing her reflection back at her, half-shaven head and gold collar glimmering in the soup - and her stupor was broken when a voice called to her. "Hello?" The Yevat's tone was calm and melodic, voice deep and roughened by sands and desert winds that chafed against the throat. She stepped into view, her fur a sandy brown and armor scuffed. A large gash spread along her torso, dripping blood freely.

In the back of her mind, Ka'altuhe was rolling her eyes. More mess to clean up later. But she beckoned the young one inside, watching as her Siune followed close by. He looked more concerned than she thought he ought to be - weren't Siune known to be loyal? But not intelligent. "Hmph." The healer sat down with a groan, creaking in her old joints as she joined the huntress Yevat at the small table she had set up for healing. "Name?"

"Skaravital."

"How did you get this injury?"

The young Yevat frowned at that, shifting slightly in pain. Ka'altuhe raised her eyebrows. "Going to speak up?"

With a huff, Skaravital answered. "I tried to pet a Boka cub. I thought she was alone."

Ka'altuhe clicked her tongue, and got up to fetch healing supplies. "Well, at least we know you aren't poisoned, yes?" She trundled around with her armful of items, and set them down on the table when she had gathered what she wanted. There were a slew of items in front of her, and she knelt by Skaravital's side, humming softly as she bound and cleaned the wound.

Once the huntress had been fixed up, she paid Ka'altuhe - in honey. The healer accepted the jar, with joy she did not show on her face, and ushered the younger Yevat out.

Score one for Ka'altuhe, score one for the wild beasts...the healer was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of a pot crashing - the younger Yevat's Siune had knocked over an urn full of dried leaves. She shooed him out the door and began to pick them up, muttering curses under her breath.

Score two for wild beasts, it seemed. And of course, when she got back to her lunch, it was cold.

#YVVO #Ka'altuhe #Skaravital #yevat #sky's words