Already Setsurri was looking forward, toward the future, toward Ketra and Arca and all the great cities he'd heard about.
But for now La'marri had secrets and surprises aplenty for him. Was there something wrong with him, that he felt so much more at home in this loud, open place than he did in his tribe's little forest settlement, tucked away so neatly beneath the canopy, overlooked and forgotten by all the world? His family must surely think so. He would never know, though, would he? It seemed unlikely he would ever meet another of his kind again.
Thoughts like these occurred to him sometimes, but they swept through him like a breeze and were gone just as quickly. Now was all that really mattered, and now happened to find him at the well in La'marri, hauling water up and then using his hand to bring it from the bucket to his lips. Three dour human women also were making use of the well, filling wooden tubs to wash their clothes in, but they didn't give him so much as a second glance. The gray horns poking out from his wild red hair were apparently not strange enough to warrant much interest in a place like La'marri.
What did get their attention was a horrendous tearing sound and sparks of light suddenly flying out through the air behind him. His senses detected it before theirs did; he whipped his head around a fraction of a second before the rift opened, his hand already closing around the bone hilt of his knife. On either side of the street, wise onesâ€"mages he thought they were called hereâ€"paused to study the phenomenon and mutter to one another before moving on about their business, and he relaxed marginally. If the wise ones didn't see cause for worry, it must mean this thing was not about to devour the whole village or belch forth a horde of monstrosities. Setsurri kept a hand on his knife just the same.
He blinked when, all at once, a woman came out of the rift and it closed itself right up again. The brightness of it left a large purple splotch in the middle of his vision. And the woman, where had she come from? Where was she before? He'd never imagined such a thing as he had just seen. Justification, that's what it was. It justified his presence here; not just here in La'marri, but here out in the world instead of huddling among the great trees of his home, oblivious to the myriad sights and experiences awaiting him beyond.
Something was wrong with the woman, he thought. Was she sick, swaying like that? Then he got a whiff of her and crinkled his nose. His sympathy slipped a little. She stank of spirits, and she was looking a fool stumbling toward him like that. He stood still and sighed when she walked right into him. If he left now, no one could blame him and he'd be free of responsibility. Still, it was true the gods had put her in his path...
"Oi, woman," he said, nudging her with his bare foot then deciding on a better idea. He strode back to the well, where the goodwives were now watching with quite a bit of interest, and unhooked one of the buckets. That bucket he emptied over the unconscious woman's face, holding it high and pouring the icy water in a slow, steady stream.
