Anger of the Sea

[Goldie]

The wind whipped furiously through the sky, blowing the clouds in a swirling whirlwind of clouds and salt.  Waves crashed from dangerous heights of thirty to fifty feet as the sea roared angrily.  The sky replied with just as much vexation as its thunderous reply echoed through the open, raging sea.  Slowly large drops of rain began to fall.  The fight between the sea and sky continued to rage with the added bonus of more water being added to the terrible waves that crested and broke with the sound of a million horses running across the earth in a frantic flight from something terrible.

A large ship bounced between the waves as one after another the deck was bombarded by fridged ocean water.  The wind pulled forcefully at the unfurled sails that strained against their rope, dragging the heavy ship with so much speed that the wooden vessel groaned with each passing second.  Every man aboard were fighting to lower the sails in a desperate attempt to stop the suicidal race of their craft.  Blisters formed on their calloused palms as time and time again the thick ropes were pulled from their hands by the winds swirling fingers.

The storm had come upon the crew with such speed that there had been no time for preparations, no time to lower the sails and simply ride out the worst of the sea's anger.  Now they were trapped, the sails would not come down and the wood of the ship began to pull apart at the seams, allowing water to fill the lower decks, slowly adding weight to the already too heavy ship.

"Cap'in!"  A throroughly drenched man cried racing up the steps to the wheel where the Captain stood, trying desperately to steer the ship out of the sea's deathly clutches, "Cap'in, we need t'loose the cargo!"

"No man!" came the reply, "It too too long t'get tha' booty!  I ain't 'bout t'let 'er go!"

"It's weighin' down th'ship, Cap'in!  We'll be sunk fer sure if ye keep it!"  The main did not seem to hear above the wind, and just the same his resolve would not have changed.  The Captain was obsessed about treasure, as most pirates were, but it seemed that he valued it above even his life and the life of his crew.

"Damnit t'hell!" The first mate shouted as he clawed his way back down the stairs to help his fellow men pul the sails down.  The wind had picked up speed and it felt as if the waves had grown taller in the last few minutes.  There was no way the ship would last through such a storm as this!  The planks were groaning under the stress and already a few railings had been torn away by the vicious waves that smothered the crew with each breaking wave.

"Zarak!" A man called to the first mate from his position on a length of rope that was about to tear itself from his fingers.  Zarak grabbed onto the rail and hurried over, hanging on for his dear life as another wave crashed onto his head, knocking the air from his lungs as he clung to the side of the ship.  Once the water subsided he took a long drink of the salt filled air and continued his walk until he could reach out and grab the rope.

"Any luck wit th' cap'in?" The man shouted over the roar of the storm as Zarak and he pulled with all their strength at the main sail, praying to water God was listening that they would make it through this.

"Notta damn ounce." Came the shouted reply, "'e's far too 'appy with'is gold t'care 'bout 'is ship!"  Another large crashing wave cut their conversation short and ripped the rope from their fingers flinging both men to the edge of the ship.  With a cry the other man was pulled over the edge and swallowed by the angry waves.  Zarak almost met the same fate but only luck allowed him to find a rail to hang onto before the water pulled him into the thrashing sea.  With his quickly draining strength, Zarak pulled himself over the side and back onto the ship.

But he would not be safe for long.

With a deafening scream, the wooden mast could not hold itself against the wind any longer.  The wooden log splintered and cracked then fell with a snap onto the deck.  It was the last bit that the poor battered vessel could take as the planks groaned in one last effort to stay together before breaking apart, sending the entire crew into the angry waves with screams of fear.

Zarak was flung into the roaring waves.

Water filled his eyes, his nose and went into every crevese of his clothes, weighing him down.  Every time he found the surface, another wave pushed him down beneath the surface, suffocating him with its watery clutches.  His lungs were screaming, his strength failing but he had been tossed around so much that he no longer knew which way was up and which way was down.  He didn't know where he was, or what direction he could swim in to hopefully find land, to find some part of the ship he could use as a raft.

He panicked as he flailed his arms and legs in a last desperate attempt to reach the surface, to get some air.  Sending up prayers he hoped that at least one of the Gods he had learned about on his seaward travels was real enough to help him!

With one last kick he was surprised to find his head break the surface.  Gasping for air he brushed the water from his eyes and looked around, trying to find something, anything that could help him stay above the water.  The ocean was cold and his toes were nearly numb.  He knew that he would not be able to hold himself afloat much longer.

Like a miracle a large scrap of wood brushed against his fingers and he swum frantically toward it, drapping his upper torso over the wooden splinter of the large ship he had once been the first mate on.

He didn't know how long he drifted, how long ago the storm had ended, but his feet brushed ground.  Looking up through salt crusted eyes he was surprised to find a large beach right before him.  He had been drifting in and out of consciousness over the past few hours...or days....he no longer knew.  All he knew was that land meant water and his tongue was swollen from lack of that one substance.  His skin was wrinkled from being submerged in water for so long.  His dark blonde hair lay in a curled wet mass against his face as he abandoned the wooden craft and began to wade desperately toward the beach.

Upon reaching the sandy edge Zarak's strength failed and he collapsed against the ground, falling into an exhausted, water deprived sleep.

[Rhindeer]

[Oh, I'm bad...'nother character...oi...]

The water was warm and soothing as Kiyan waded through the calm bay, a pocketknife in one hand and a hand-woven basket in the other as he headed out toward the many large rocks and boulders that bordered the cliffs. It was the perfect season for gathering mussels, and the rocks were just teeming with their sparkling shells, glinting in the sunlight. There was plenty to go around, and a good day's picking would provide a tasty feast. It was slow work, sliding the blade of his knife under each creature and prying it off the rock it clung to, one after the other, one at a time, but the work was well worth the reward, and by the time his arm started getting tired from the tedious work, he had a basket full of food. An easy meal, really; much easier than fishing, which required a lot more waiting and patience than Kiyan liked. Besides, mussels just tasted better, and unlike with most fish bones, you could make things from their shells.

Nothing useful, really. Mostly decorative, like the necklace of fragmented shells he wore about his neck. But that was more than you could do with most tiny, fragile fish bones, which were only good for piercing; he would know, for his bottom lip and ears were, indeed, pierced and adorned with small ornaments.

And maybe if he collected enough shells, he could appease both his own tribe and the tribe that wanted to buy him; both had agreed that was a good solution, as penance for his transgression. Which was why he was out here in the middle of nowhere to begin with, literally miles from his home, hiding out, if you wanted to put it that way. Ugh...

It wasn't like he knew the girl was engaged...

And there was no way in any of the hells that he was going back there anytime soon! After that tribe bought him...he didn't even want to know what would happen from there. He wasn't even sure literally paying for his crime would work, but if he got caught, he definitely wanted to have a back-up plan of some sort. Something was better than nothing. And maybe, just maybe, if he went long enough without being rooted out and dragged back, this whole thing would be blown over. After the wedding ceremony, maybe everyone would just be too happy with heir new lives to even care anymore.

Yeah right. He'd "robbed" the girl of her "honor", and that carried a lot of weight. Never mind that she'd been a willing participant.

His basket finally filled, Kiyan simply tossed his knife into the basket and waded back to the shore, heading to the little cave he used as a temporary dwelling. Except, a shape on the shore that hadn't been there before caught his eye, and after eyeing it cautiously, he soon realized it was a person. A person which...wasn't moving.

Just his luck to find a random dead body. Though...hopefully it wasn't dead.

Setting his basket down but drawing out his knife, just in case, he trotted over to the figure and crouched down beside him, rearranging his long cloth skirt, the only garment he wore, around his legs out of habit so as not to flash anyone that might be there. He was quiet a moment, and then he breathed in relief when he heard breath and saw the man's chest expanding. And when he realized the man wasn't anyone he recognized, and certainly, judging by his clothes and looks, wasn't anyone from any tribe he was familiar with. Huh...so, where'd he come from? The sea? Yeah right, he didn't look like a merman. Probably just fell off one of those big boats he saw sailing on the waters every now and then, though that was a pretty rare thing, and he couldn't remember a time they'd ever docked around here. He must have fallen off. Lucky he wasn't eaten; the waters were warm here, and he'd seen quite a few sharks visit this bay in the last week, so it was either sheer luck or just that sharks didn't like foreigners.

Well...so, now that it was determined that he was alive, at least, the next step was seeing how bad off he was. If he was just sleeping, then he could wake him up and wouldn't have to do much hauling. Either way, though, he knew he had to get the man out of the sun, probably get some water in him, too, if he knew any better and the guy had filled his stomach with salt.

"Hey..." He poked his arm once, twice, then gave him a little shake and moved to turn him over onto his back where he could peer into his face for any sign of...well, anything, really. His sun-bleached, shoulder-length brown hair hung around his tanned face wetly as he looked down at him for any signs of consciousness, his shell necklace clacking together. "Anyone in there?"

[Goldie]

[lol!  well, that's what you're good at doing XD making more characters! ^^;; ]

The pirate groaned softly as he was flipped over, a rush of salt water exploding from his lungs as his body shook with ragged coughs.  He was still so tired....exhausted from his frantic swim and however long he had been without water, without food, or any type of nourishment.

Forcing himself to his side he heaved the water out of his lungs, vaguely aware of the sand that clung to his face where he had collapsed.  After it seemed like all of the sea water he had swallowed was gone he fell onto his back and tried to open his salt crusted eyes in an attempt to view whoever it was who had found him.

The sunlight made for the other to be merely a shadowy figure but his ears picked up the sound of a shell necklace clanking together.  Not that the fact helped Zarak in anyway, he was merely being observant.  The sun hurt his eyes and soon after he had opened them he closed them again to block out the brightness.  He could feel a burn beginning to form on his arms and back and began to wonder just how long he had been laying here....how long ago had the sea spit him out onto this desolate piece of beach.

"I...'m 'live" he croaked, just now realizing that the other had been talking to him.  Using his shaking arms Zarak pushed himself into a sitting position, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head on his arms as he focused on breathing, just breathing.  He had always been appreciative of life, but now he realized just how easily it can be taken away, just how easily the ocean could have swallowed him and never let him go...leaving a lifeless body, bloated with water..blue from the cold.

He shivered

How many of his shipmates had seen that fate?  How many of them would be washed up on this very beach in the next few days only to be greeted by the terrible sun and buzzards who revelled in decaying flesh.

"'as...'as there anyun else?" he asked, turning his head to get a better look at whoever it was beside him.  Zarak's hair was coated with sand which weighed down the many dark blonde curls that covered his head, making them seem straggly when normally it was just a big ball of fluff.  His breeches and boots were still on him, even if the pants were a bit tattered, but he had lost his shirt and multiple scratches covered his torso.  Probably from stray pieces of the ship..or maybe he had even run into some rocks or something, he didn't know.  People had gone insane from not having water for extended periods of time, so he wasn't surprised that much of what had happened, after he had found his makeshift raft, was hazy and nearly nonexistant.

"D...d'ye 'ave any water?" He croaked again.

[Rhindeer]

Kiyan edged back when the man began to cough, giving him his space as he cleared all the water from his lungs, and finally collapsed back down. He wasn't in good shape, that was for sure, but that he was at least conscious enough clear his own lungs, that was a promising sign. Well, Kiyan figured it was, at least; he was no healer, but that had to be a good thing, it seemed pretty obvious.

So, Kiyan just waited patiently, waited and watched as the man caught his breath, deciding it was best not to say anything for a bit. He'd wait and see what the man did, whether he decided to stay awake or slip away again, and then he'd speak up. The guy seemed disoriented, which he could only expect since it seemed like he'd nearly drowned himself, and he didn't want to startle him or anything. He looked harmless right now, and Kiyan was the one with the knife, but he still didn't know what kind of person this was. Hell...he might not have fallen of his boat thing, he might have been kicked off, though Kiyan wasn't one to talk about breaking laws and the like. Still, he was just actually more concerned about causing the man any further stress.

But he didn't have to speak first, because soon the man was pulling himself up into an exhausted sitting position, and Kiyan couldn't help but smile when the man voiced his wonder at being alive, amused both at his statement of the obvious and his funny accentâ€"he definitely wasn't from around here. Perhaps Kiyan shouldn't have been amused, for the man must have gone through one hell of an adventure, but...yeah, yeah, it was mostly the accent; he'd never heard anyone talk like that. But it seemed at least his head still seemed to be working right, and they at least seemed to speak the same language. "Very good, you are alive," Kiyan agreed softly, so as not to startle him.

And he couldn't say any more, anyway, because soon the man was questioning him.

Kiyan squinted a little as he deciphered the man's words through that heavy accent, then slowly shook his head, his green eyes widening a little. Others? Well...not only was this the first time that he'd ever encountered a foreignerâ€"even though they rarely ever came here, other tribes further down the coast often dealt with them, and it was said that, sometimes, a few chose to live with them, and sometimes a few of their own went with them, as well, so the idea of foreigners wasn't a new thing, just an interesting thing, eve though they weren't much different at all from those so called foreigners save in dress, location, and cultureâ€"but now there might be others? Here? Ugh. That idea in and of itself didn't bother him. He just didn't want his cover to be blown. Wait...or...were they all in the same kind of shape as he was in? If so...that...wasn't good; he wouldn't wish having the sea swallow up anyone. Or were they looking for this man? That was a more comforting thought. They could get the man taken care of, and he didn't have to worry about himself, either.

But...he hadn't seen anyone else. So, in the meantime, he wasn't worried. Well, maybe a little. He wanted to help this manâ€"Kiyan had quite the bleeding heartâ€"but beyond helping him, he didn't know what would happen after that.

"Uh-uh...just you," he answered, tilting his head a little and shifting around to sit on his knees when his crouching position started to grow uncomfortable. He decided not to bombard the man with questions; he looked tired, and he'd just let him talk at the pace he felt comfortable with. Heck, they were both strangers to each other, and he was pretty trusting himself, but he couldn't say the same for everyone.

"Yeah, I've plenty. Over there." He used his knife to point out the small cave in the cliffs, then looked back to the man. "We might want to get you over there...it kind of looks like the sun's starting to cook you." Kiyan, luckily, never had that problem; his skin was quite used to whatever the sun and heat threw his way. "I could bring some here of course, if you'd rather not...it's your skin," he added. The guy might still be spooked from whatever he'd been through, and a stranger leading him to a dark cave miiight not be very soothing.

Kiyan was harmless, of course, but a stranger might not think that. You never knew.

[Goldie]

Zarak didn't even think that this boy could possibly be dangerous.  He might have, had his head been still instead of the jumbled thoughts that compiled in his mind at the moment.  All he could think about was anyone being as lucky as he was, but the chances were slim.  He was one of the best swimmers on board next to the captain, but the captain would have clung to his chests of gold and drowned without a second thought.

But really, it all depended on luck and hell was he lucky.  Not many people could stand up and say they had endured the greatest of the sea's anger and survived, and part of the half drowned pirate wasn't proud of that proclaimation.

Zarak had grown up on that ship.  When he was seven his parents had taken him on a large ship in an attempt to move to a large island in the middle of the ocean.  Their vessel had been attacked by a band of pirates and they had been quite taken with the young boy who stood valiently over his parents bodies with a large stick attempting to fend off the pirates.  At first he hated them for what they had done, but as he stayed longer on the ocean the more he found that he did not want to leave.  The rocking of the ship was soothing, the smell of salt on the wind was his paradise and the thoughts of revenge turned into determination.  He changed his work habits and did everything the best he could in an attempt to become the captain of his own ship that he would have named Brinealle after his mother and worked to change the reputation of the pirates.  He had nearly reached his goal, being first-mate aboard the Sand Grave, but the storm had basically torn that dream from him.

Now he was stuck here, barely able to focus.

"Wha..?" he said looking up, having completely missed what he had said and had to take a few seconds to retrace the boys words and understand them.  His skin?  Oh, the sun.  Normally he didn't burn, having been on a ship all his life he had accumulated a nice, even tan, but laying out in the sun for as long as he had...however long that was...was obviously enough to make him start to redden.

"Oh...I...I'll come wit'ye."  Or at least he'd try.

Even from his exhausted sitting position, Zarak knew that his legs were wobbly and staggering would probably be his walking pattern until he got some water and true rest.  Oh well, at least he would try.  After all he was a pirate wasn't he?  He was strong enough to handle himself....

Turning onto all fours he rose to his knees, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to break off some of the dried salt residue.  With a final push he tried to stand and found that he had more problems then just sea legs.  They would barely support him, but he kept fighting, holding his hands out in an attempt to steady himself.

Well that certainly was embarassing....

[Rhindeer]

Well, that was good, the man didn't seem wary of him at all, just understandably tired. That made things easier; used to the heat or not, not even he was immune to sunstroke, and he day was still young. Best to get the man inside where he could rest up. Aside from looking like a drowned, banged up otter, he didn't look too worse for wear.

Climbing to his feet as the man began the process of struggling to his own, he waited patiently to see if the man needed a hand, but didn't offer him any help, not yet. He was doing all right on his own, and he hadn't asked for assistance, yet. Looked kind of like he wanted to manage it on his own, and Kiyan could relate. Pride could be a fragile thing, so for now he'd just wait and see how much he could manage.

Not too much. He made it to his feet, but then the man started to stagger, and that was when Kiyan finally intervened and looped one of his arms around the man's shoulders to steady him and support some of his weight. "Sorry, hope you don't mind. You looked about ready to topple," he explained and he carefully, slowly lead the man. He left his basket where it was along the shore and dropped his knife as he walked to free up his other hand, just in case what was left of the man's strength gave out. He'd retrieve both later; wasn't like he had to worry about them getting stolen. And by now, it had pretty much been established that he didn't have to worry about the guy freaking out on him or anything. "It's a wonder you're in as good of shape as you are now, man. Sharks have been basking in these waters lately...amazing you weren't at least nibbled. Alright, here we are..."

He ducked them both down to enter the cave, using his free hand to cover the man's head as a precaution that he didn't bump it. It was no more than a small space good enough to serve as a resting place and a storage unit, if you didn't mind stooping. But Kiyan only spent a very small portion of his time in there, so it didn't have to be big, and a smaller space meant  better hiding place. It wasn't anything special: a blanket draped down on the ground near the back to sleep on, a few baskets shoved against the walls, filled with empty shells, and a few small clay jars that he used to collect water from the spring beyond the cliffs. All items he'd had to grab quickly when he'd left his tribe, and not all at once. Feeling brave, a few times he'd made a trip back there to snag a few quick items he'd forgotten.

He helped the man sit down on the blanket, kneeling down in it himself, and drew one of the full clay jars out. There was a little laddle of sorts in it for drinking, and he pushed the clay jar toward the man.

"There you are. Drink up, there's plenty. And if you're hungry...I just got a bunch of mussels. Don't expect anything fancy...I'm on a bit of a budget. Be right back."

He ducked back out of the cave to retrieve the mussels and his knife, and was back shortly after, resettling himself at the edge of the blanket.

[Goldie]

The hand around his shoulders really helped and although any other time his pride would have been sorely injured, Zarak was no fool and knew that in his current state any help was the greatest gift in the world.  After all, where would he be if the boy hadn't been there to help him?  He had water and he was willing to share, and that was the greatest gift that the seaman could have possibly asked for.

Trying to get a good look around there current location proved harder than he had thought what with his head spinning and Zarak soon found himself focusing on the ground and telling himself to put one foot infront of the other.  IT would not do for him to suddenly collapse of loose his footing.  He was anything but clumbsy even in his weakened state and he wasn't about to go suddenly topsy.

"Heh..." he replied to the shark comment and silently had to agree, "These...shark fill'd waters?"  Well that made him doubly lucky he thought as the small cave came in sight.  The first thing that came to his head was the size.  It certainly was small, but his survival instincts told him that the smaller a cave the least likely chance of some unwanted visitors, as well as less of a chance that some unfriendly beast would be nesting inside.  Feeling the boys hand on his head he hunched his shoulders as then passed through the lower edge of the cave opening.  And He was certainly glad for the reminder because he was certain that without the gently guiding hand he would have crashing right into it, his six foot frame far too tall for this cave to stand at his full height!

"Thank ye." he murmured as the boy sat him down on the blanket and handed him the clay jar full of water.  Eventhough Zarak wanted to take the entire jar and down in in a single gulp, multiple dehydrations in the past reminded him that he would just throw it all back up.  He needed to drink slowly, one sip at a time and reintroduce his body to the fluids that kept him alive.

When the boy came back the lar was nearly empty and he was feeling a lot better, even if he was still mentally and physically exhausted.

"Did...did th'storm 'it 'ere?" He asked, resting his head against the cave side and closing his eyes.

[Rhindeer]

"Storm?" Sitting cross-legged on the blanket, the basket of mussels in his cloth-covered lap, he tilted his head a little in thought. "Well...we had some rain for a few days, and a little wind, a little thundering. Nothing big, though, and it broke up some time yesterday. We get hurricanes here sometimes, so that was nothing. Was ugly looking further out at sea, though...almost started to make me a bit worried..." If the storm decided to pick up and move further inland, Kiyan would have been forced to flee this little beach. As it was, the tide had risen a lot during that storm, and he could tell from the way that old shells were lodged in the cliff walls that during severe weather, it was likely this cave could wind up submerged. Not a good place to be during nasty weather.

Reaching behind him, he pulled an empty woven basket up beside him, took up his knife, and began the process of scraping the soft flesh free of each shell. The meat was deposited into the empty basket, and each empty shell was set aside carefully to be cleaned out later. "I'm going to make a guess here: you got caught up in the nasty part of it?" he ventured carefully, and raised his eyes up briefly from his work.

It seemed obvious enough, but who knew...it might be a sensitive subject that he might not want to talk about just yet. He'd mentioned "others"...so, perhaps others among his people were in the same state as he. Only worse. It was rare to survive the sea's anger, and many among his own people had been lost to it. His people were, after all, a sea-faring one, and so it wasnt altogether uncommon for an unattended child to wander out into a rip-tide and be lost, or a group of fishermen to be met with an unexpected storm. The sea was unpredictable, and unforgiving as some of the many creatures within it. That they all learned early on.

He'd been very, very lucky.

Of course, the sea wasn't all bad. It was as beautiful as it was dangerous, and it was unfair to see it in only one limited light, for the sea was as multifaceted as the waves that split the sunlight that played upon it. You just had to know both sides of it, the dangerous and the beautiful, and be as careful as you were reverant.

As the man shut his eyes, Kiyan couldn't help but study his "guest" curiously, his trained hands carrying on their work without the need for his eyes. He was really tall (to Kiyan's five feet nine) and looked older than him, and his clothesâ€"well, what were left of themâ€"were interesting...as was his jewelry, all designed in a way he'd never seen before. He wondered where he came from, andâ€"

"Ow!" Kiyan gave his hand a shake, then sucked on the finger he'd knicked in his distraction. So much for trained hands.

[Goldie]

Jarak listened silently as his helper spoke about the storm.  Well he certainly had been lucky not to have been hit by the worst of it.  Although any storm on the sea could potentially be deadly, this one had winds gusting stronger than the trained sailor had ever seen, or felt for that matter and knew that had they come inland the effects would have been devestating.

"Yeah." he replied to the boy's guess, "We were ona ship, righ' in th'middle o'th'storm."  And they probably would have had a better chance of survival had the damn captain just chosen to throw his treasure overboard!  God that man was horrible.  How could anyone just throw away his own life like that?  The life of his entire crew?  Well...almost the entire crew.  As far as he knew, Zarak was the only survivor, and a lucky one at that.

Taking another sip of the water in the jar he had been given he went through all of the faces he had known for years.  Each of them were lost to him forever, swallowed by the raging sea and its horrid treachery.  Whoever said that you could always see when a storm was coming needed to be on the ship when that one brewed out of the middle of no where.  He was bright enough to be able to tell you that the sky was cloudless twenty minutes before the worst of the storm hit.

The yelp brought Zarak out of his silent revere as he opened his eyes and looked over at the boy.  It took only a few minutes for his now clearer vision to take everything in...and....truth be told, he could only think about the skirt.

Being a pirate he had seen many strange things throughout his years of plunder...but...a man...in a skirt...that was just.....

Strange....

But maybe...perhaps wherever he had landed all men wore skirts?  Well wouldn't he feel a bit silly walking around in pants!  Haha, right.

"Ye ok?"

[Rhindeer]

Ick. Kiyan gave a sympathetic grimace as his assumptions proved true, and that, indeed, there were others. It was a shame...and the boy really doubted that any others would be as lucky as this man. Caught up in the middle of the storm...he gave a little shudder. Surviving the open, stormy sea without a boat just didn't happen as often as anyone he knew would have liked. Including himself. But, it was the risk any sea-farer took, and they all had to be very aware of the dangers and consequences. It was simply a fact of life, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Adding a few more drops of salt water to the sea certainly didn't change a thing, except to make your head stuffy.

Then again, maybe he was just jumping to conclusions. Maybe this man was the only one that was lost...or just one of a couple, and his boatâ€"ship?â€"was still out there somewhere, searching out those it had lost.

Well, it'd be nice to think that for this man's sake, but the man certainly didn't look like he was expecting anyone. Quite the opposite...

And Kiyan knew he still had to eventually figure out what he was going to do when the man fully recovered. He'd likely want to go back to wherever it was he'd come from, return home, and Kiyan didn't know the first thing about getting him back there. One of the tribes futher up would know something of it, as they traded with foreigners on occassionâ€"but, conveniently, they also happened to be the one Maricha, the girl he'd been with, belonged to. Um...maybe he could just send the man off in their general direction and entrust him not to mention a thing about himself. Heh. Yeah right. That'd only make him suspicious; he'd probably think he was a murderer or something crazy like that for all he knew. Didn't feel right to do that, either, to just take someone under your roof and then send them out all on their own in a place they likely weren't familiar with when they'd recovered. Um...well...he'd...just have to think about it later, when the issue came up, and go from there. What was important now was that the guy was, physically at least, not too bad off.

He gave a quick glance at his finger when the man spoke up. "Yeah, just a knick, that's all. Hey...sorry about...well, you know. But, you know, maybe someone else will show up alive along the beach, maybe not this exact spot, but there's a lot of beach," he offered up optimistically. Already he'd warmed up to the stranger, even with all his earlier and even his current concerns. It didn't take much, though; caution or not, he was all too trusting. Hell, until the Maricha incident, he'd never known betrayal, and he certainly wasn't going to let something like that get him down. Yeah, it pissed him off, and yeah, he was stuck out in hiding now because of it, but he wasn't going to turn into one of those moping dolts that could see no light in the dark just because a girl lied to him and he faced a hefty "penance".

Okay...so...it sounded pretty bad when he thought it that way, but...it still wasn't the end of the world! And definitely nothing compared to what this guy had been through, nearly drowning and all.

"I mean, there're sharks out here, but there's also dolphins. I've heard stories before of dolphins saving people...maybe one was watching out for you. Iâ€"" He paused, blinking, when it suddenly occured to him that the man was staring at him, as if seeing him for the first time. Or, more like there was a bizarre, deformed insect sitting plopped in his lap. Glancing down at his lap, he soon thought he figured out what was up.

"Oh...never seen a mussel before?" he asked curiously, and reached into the basket to hold up a closed shell still intact. By that time, he'd finished cleaning out the opened ones at the top of the basket that had died in the sun while he'd taken care of his guest, leaving behind the closed, live ones that would have to be cooked soon if they were going to eat any.

[Goldie]

"Wha...?" He looked away from where he had been staring quickly and then realized that the boy had interpreted his stare quite incorrectly...but he had more manners than to admit that he had been staring at his skirt...

"Um...yeah....we uh, norm'lly eat clams."  He grinned sheepishly, taking away a few years from his face that had been added from the ordeal he had just been through.  Reaching over to the water, he filled the jar again and sat back down, resting his back against the wall of the cave.

"So..thank ye fer 'elpin' me ou' there." he quickly added, trying to get off the subject of 'mussels' and such.  It was embarassing to say that he had never eaten mussels before, especially when they had been a large part of his diet, but it certainly would have provided and akward feeling had he admitted that he had been staring at his clothes.  From the way that he didn't realize that's what he was looking at, he probably didn't think it was strange at all!  In fact, probably more people he knew were walking around in skirts too....maybe they were more airy?

"I'm Zarak," he offered, holding out his hand to shake.  It would certainly seem better if he offered the hand of friendship so that his helper wouldn't have to worry about being attacked at night by some horrible man who had been shipwrecked and could only think about himself and finding some plunder, stealing it and running away.  Eventhough Zarak was raised a pirate, he had more courtosy than most and wouldn't even dream about hurting someone who was helping out of the plain goodness of their heart.

Not to mention it would be better to have a friend when he landed on this place where he knew no one.  Perhaps he knew where a town was that he could get some supplies, or something of the sort...maybe some more information about the ship...maybe there were survivors?  But wouldn't it make sense that they get washed up on this beach?  It seemed to be the only one that was close to the wreck, so if they were ever going to find land, here seemed like the best bet.  Maybe after he felt a little more solid on his feet, Zarak would look around the beach for someone, or something.

[Rhindeer]

"Clams, huh?" Kiyan tried hard to keep his face neutral rather than incredulous. Well, that was strange. This looked like a sea-faring guy, and mussels were really plentiful! Then...well...they did look ugly on the outside...and he supposed they could blend in with the rocks. Clams were a bit more attractive on the outside, so...huh. It made sense, though it was amusing nonetheless. Still, he kept his face smoothed out, and just nodded. It would be rude to laugh, especially since he didn't know this man well enough to tease him, and he was older than him besides, so he'd just nod in feigned understanding, though he had a feeling his eyes gave away something of what he felt. If there was one thing he was bad at, it was lying and pretending.

He cleared his throat a little. "Well, I...I don't have any clams, but...but these are really good! They'd be better if I had better things to cook them with and spices, but...gotta make due with what you have!"

Zarak was not the only one glad for the change in subject.

"You're welcome. Have to say, it's not everyday you find a person washed up on shore, even less one that's alive, and even less a foreigner. I mean! A new person. Uh...sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Foreigner. Ugh. He hoped the man didn't take offense to the term, he didn't mean it badly! "Travellers don't come here much," he put in quickly. "Never met anyone like you before. But, um, yeah, glad to help...gave me a bit of a scare there. I thought you were dead at first; you don't look very alive asleep."

Setting down his knife, he grasped Zarak's offered hand in both of his own. Zarak's offer was universal enough, and he knew it well as a sign of trust. It wasn't altogether necessary, because the boy already trusted himâ€"and why not? He'd helped him out, so why should he worry about him turning on him? Perhaps it was foolish to think that, but he really had no reason to expect any less. At least, not by his own cheery perception of the world. "Kiyan," he replied with a smile before releasing the man's hand. Well, jeez...why hadn't that occured to him, to introduce himself? Except...crap. He'd just given out his real name...

Heh, like that even mattered. He didn't think anyone would come looking for him here any time soon, and Zarak didn't have a reason to give him away, or a person to give him away to. Paranoid, much?

Nah.

[Goldie]

He couldn't help the slight smile rise in his cheeks as Kiyan started rambling about mussles and spices and the pirate quickly hid the grin behind his hand, pretending to cough.  It was apparent by the look in his young friend's eyes that he found his 'non-mussle' diet was amusing, especially from having been on a ship.

Oh well, it's not like he could take back the lie now without looking like..well...a lyer, and causing akwardness in the camp life!  He'd just have to go with it and pretend that he loved the mussles once they were cooked...if Kiyan even cooked them, or offered him any.  But...wasn't he cooking them weird?

"Wouldn' it be easier t'boil 'em?" he asked, motioning to the mussles with his hands, "An' then th'shells'll open once th'meat inside is cooked."  Well, that's what he had always done on the ship.  It was a whole lot easier than trying to pry open each shell by hand and clean out the meat before you ate it.  Once it was cooked the mussles came out of their shells quite easily and there really was no need for a knife at all!  But...maybe Kiyan didn't know that way to cook them?  After all, they were probably from different ends of the world and had different habits.

Like dress....

No no no!  He could NOT get back on the skirt thing now!  If he continued to think about it Zarak was sure that he would loose his composure and just fall over laughing.  Never in his life...never...man...skirt...

He hid a small chuckle behind a cough and wiped the tears from his eyes that began to form from trying to hold back his laughter.  Oh man...this was an embarassing situation!  He had to get himself under control...had to!  It would not do at all to insult him!

"So..." he paused to take a controlling breath, "Um...'ow long 'ave ye been 'ere?"

[Rhindeer]

Now it was Kiyan's turn to look sheepish, an awkward grin on his face. Aw, man, so he'd noticed. Yeah, Kiyan certainly wasn't going about this whole mussel business the way he'd been taught and aside from boiling, he honestly didn't know how to properly cook them. He'd just been using this method since he got hereâ€"struggle to gt the shell open, scrape out the meat and spear it, then roast it over a fire. So far, that method hadn't yet killed him, though it was horribly tedious. Still he figured as long as he din't eat the ones that had died before he got to themâ€"those he returned to the sea for the little sea creatures to eatâ€"then it was safe enough.

"Um...yeah...it would...but you see, all I got are those clay jars." And not very good ones, at that. But he hadn't wanted to risk lifting anything that would be missed, and those certainly wouldn't be missed! "I don't think they're good for boiling...I think the fire would break them." He looked up at Zarak, raising an eyebrow in inquiry as though to ask what he thought about thatâ€"hey, he certainly seemed to know his stuff about shellfish!â€"but then he blinked again.

Zarak was sure coughing a lot...a strange cough, at that. And his eyes looked like they were watering.

"Hey, you alright?" he asked. Maybe he was sick...or getting sick. After all, his clothes were all wet and he was wearing those big shoes still. That had to be uncomfortable...wet clothes always were, and those looked so thick and heavy. His toes were probably getting all wrinkled in those shoes, too...which was never fun. Besides, Kiyan would imagine that he was probably sick of water by now. "You catching cold? You might want to take off your clothes. They can't be too comfortable all wet, and we can set them out to dry. Here, you can use the blanket. Sorry, I don't have anything extra...but that should work until your clothes dry! I'll be right outside, just tell me when you're done."

Kiyan was pretty sure he was being helpful and doing the poor guy a favor.  

Ducking outside to give Zarak his privacyâ€"his tribe was a modest one, after allâ€"Kiyan stood and leaned against the cave wall, stretching with his hands over his head. "Been here about a week," he answered without thinking. "How about you? Well...I mean...never mind. Where'd you come from?"

[Goldie]

Clay jars?

Hmmm...they wouldn't break if they had been fired, after all they had used a lot of clay jars aboard the Sand Grave but never for boiling.  He didn't see why they would break under the heat if they had been properly made though!  Hell, clay jars were good for everything else!

"Wha...oh...no!" he replied as Kiyan asked about the cold, but it was too late to convince him that he was fine because in the next second he was gone, outside of the cave to wait for his guest to change.  Zarak sighed, it would be nice to get out of the wet clothes, but he wasn't sure how comfortable he was to be just wearing a blanket in the presence of a stranger he just met.

"Ah 'ell with it." he muttered to himself and siftly stripped himself of his kneehigh leather boots, praying that the water hadn't damaged them too much.  Next came a pair of very very wet socks and then his tearing breeches and undergarments.  Part of him wanted to keep at least the undergarments on, but that would be just as uncomfortable as if he had kept everything else on.  Using one of his cord necklaces he wrapped the blanket firmly around his waist and tied off the side for extra protection.

Looking down at himself he chuckled softly to himself.  Well, now he certainly fit in!  It was a blanket, but it certainly looked liked like a skirt.  Now he didn't have any reason to laugh at Kiyan if he looked very similar...possibly even more strange because his 'skirt' was a blanket.

Oh man...it was the island of skirted men...

"I come froma land called Seryn." he replied, gathering up his wet clothes and exiting the cave, slowly because his legs still felt like jelly but were much firmer than before.  "Bu' I've been travelin' fer years, an' I don' actually 'ave a place I come from an'more.  Are ye from 'round 'ere?"

Walking a little bit further out, he laid down his pants and underwear, putting his boots beside it.  Reaching up he scratched his head, aware that as it was drying the curls began to come back, fighting against the salt that was weighing it down.  In an hour maybe it'd be back to it's gigantic untameable afro which would probably be amusing to anyone looking at him.

Gods...he was just shipwrecked and all he could think about was his hair?  When did he become this vain?

[Rhindeer]

"Jeez...that many places, huh?" Kiyan murmered as Zarak finally exited, and he tried hard not to show any signs of amusement or surprise. Not so much at what he was now wearingâ€"he did look kind of funny like that, though, not just because it was a blanket, but...but...well, something about the way he moved kind of said he didn't wear anything like that oftenâ€"but at the sheer amount of clothes he'd had on. Two sets of garments to cover each section? Jeez, no wonder he looked out of place. And really, it was a wonder he didn't drown with all that stuff weighing him down, and those shoes looked huge and heavy! Maybe it was cold where he came from. No, that wouldn't make sense, he said he came from a lot of places. Maybe it had been cold where he'd last been? Nah, probably just the typical style of dress where he came from.

Odd. Looked uncomfortable and restricting to him...

"Me...I was born and raised here," he said. "Never been anywhere else. Some people have left, though, on one of those big boats when they come now and then. Some tribes are interested in that kind of thing. Mine's old fashioned, though...likes things the way they are, uncomplicated, they say, so they don't have much to do at all with foreiâ€"ah, your people. I think I'd want to travel someday, though...I don't know...it'd be hard to leave..."

And he didn't just mean emotionally. The only ways out were via the sea, or to travel miles and miles further inland, through the forest. But like hell he'd go through there! He'd been taught it was dangerous, far more than the ocean. Go in there, and you'd get swallowed up by it for sure, lost forever. No one ever came back that went in. Travelling on a big boat didn't sound any better to him. He loved the sea, but how could anyone go out there so far that they could no longer see land? And then there were the storms, like the one this man had endured. Man...drowning had to be one of the worst ways to go. He'd got enough water up his nose in his life to know he would not want to experience a more extreme, permanent version of that.

Then, of course, there was that whole penance issue. Huh. Actually, on second thought, he might like to go on one of those big boats...

"What's it like where you come from? Or where you've been, if that's better." He'd moved from his position by the cliff wall and stooped down in the sand to start building a little makeshift fire pitâ€"nothing more than a shallow, sandy impression bordered by rocks and filled with dead palm frawns he'd collected a few days ago and kept piled nearby.

He hoped he wasn't bombarding him with too many questions too soon, but he really was curious!

[Goldie]

Where he was from....

That was an interesting question to say the least!  The last time he had seen his homeland was nearly eighteen years ago after the ship was attacked and he was adopted by the pirates.  Everything around that time was hazy and didn't come back to him easily..and what did seemed so distant that he wasn't even sure it was real and not a dream!  He remembered his parents, certainly, or at least feelings if not their faces.  He knew that Seryn was an island somewhere off the coast of some larger strip of land...

"Seryn was a small fishin' village in righ' off th'coast...a small islan'" he replied after a moments hesitation to get his thoughts in order and sift through nearly forgotten memories, "I don' remember i' much, on'y tha'  we was a quiet lot, kep' t'ourselves.  My mum an' da decided t'move though, an' I never saw it again."  Looking over at the small fire pit he made his way slowly towards Kiyan, hoping that there was something he could do to help out.  He also used the movement as an excuse to stop talking.  How much should he relay to his new friend?  It wasn't as if his past was an open book that he wanted everyone to know...and he wasn't even sure how the poor guy would act if he suddenly realized he was housing a pirate!  Even a 'noble' pirate was still a thief in his own right and Zarak was not about to deny that!  He had plundered, had fought, but never killed innocents, only those who attempted to face him with a sword.

Hell, he had to protect himself somehow.

"When we were inth'middle o' th'sea, our ship was attacked an' I 'as taken aboard another an' 'ave been on ships fer the most part o' my life after'ards."  It was truthful enough, and didnt' give too much information, although he supposed that he would have to tell Kiyan anyway.  He was sure that somewhere someone had taken a grudge and posted his face in a lovely "Wanted" picture.  He just hoped that it wasn't this place...not that it looked farmiliar...but hell, anyone from anywhere could ride and ship and have accidentally been in the path of the vessels he was aboard.

"All th' other places 'ave been pretty differnt.  Ye ge' snow sometimes...but mos'ly it's wind an' rain tha' bea' down on yer head until ye've grown daft.  I've seen lotsa differnt places an' people..some jungles an' deserts....bein' on a trav'lin' ship sure does 'ave its advan'tges eve' wit th' disadvan'tges."  He watched Kiyan silently for a moment, wondering if it would be an insult to ask to help, or if he would even be able to do anything if he offered.  His legs were still pretty useless if he wanted to do something more than just walking...slowly...and the rest of his body was probably in the same boat....

No pun intended

"Um....ye wan' 'elp wit anythin'?"  He finally gave up and asked, feeling really akward and useless as he kneeled beside the boy.

[Rhindeer]

Kiyan's work had slowed very noticeably as Zarak relayed his story, soakng up the information. Fishing village, huh? Wasn't much different from here, then! No wonder Zarak knew so much and didn't seem too out of placeâ€"though the mussel thing...well, that was still a bit of a mystery, not to mention his strange clothes. Well, they weren't too strange; the hunters among his tribe wore something like the breeches Zarak wore, which offered better protection and no threat of any material getting snagged on something, but still not as many pairs of stuff as Zarak! And Kiyan didn't see how they could be very comfortable for a prolonged period of time, not with the weather here as warm as it was. Oh well. Quiet, kept to themselves. Yep, sounded a lot like his own tribe. Seemed they had more in common than he thought.

But common or not, his story was, of course, a lot different than his own, and Kiyan's eyes widened in surprise. Their boatâ€"shipâ€"had been attacked? And he'd been taken? Oh jeez...he had no idea other boats would attack one another like that! Of course one group of people could attack another on land, but to fight on boats? And then to be taken captive on the sea...man. Thank goodness fights here were rare, and the last actual war had been fought ages and ages ago. This was by no means a utopia and there was still crime and punishment, but it was toned down enough that Kiyan could say he'd never seen something where he'd actually been afraid anyone could die. That sounded freaky, though...but it sounded like he'd gotten away, obviously, if he was here and able to continue on his journeys freely like that! But...what about his parents? Had they been on the ship that got attacked?

He listened to his accounts, a few wordsâ€"snow and desertâ€"catching him. He'd heard the words before, and knew what the words described, but he couldn't really imagine them and had half figured it was just the work of another folk tale. Sand that stretched forever without water, and water that fell solid from the sky? How did that work, anyway...? But while he might have laughed at the tale of another tribe member, it was easy to believe the account of this man. Hell, why would he lie about that? And Kiyan believed very easily that he'd seen everything that he said he did. He had no reason to think he was pulling his leg.

"Man...some life you've had..." he murmered appreciatively, clearly impressed. Sure made his own sound a bore. Hell, he wasn't even a hunter! "Dunno if I'd much like the whole capturing part, though, but it sure sounds like luck's on your side. Never heard of anyone escaping from being held captive before." He didn't ask about his parents or any other details about the attack. That might be touchy.

When Zarak knelt down beside him and asked to help, Kiyan looked a little surprised, brought back to his work. He hadn't expected any help, and he didn't mind that, eitherâ€"the man needed his rest, no doubtâ€"and there wasn't really too much to do, but it would have been rude not to accept the help, too. But he still looked beat. Um...ah! "Oh, yeah! If you're up to it. It's no big deal, though, so you don't have to if you feel tired. But if you want to...just go ahead and break up some of those palm frawns a bit, so they fit in the pit. I'll get the mussels and...ah, do you think one of those clay jars would work? For boiling? They're not very good...I don't think..."

A homemaker he was not.

[Goldie]

Zarak was oddly quiet as Kiyan murmured about luck.  He never looked at his fate as luck, but merely the path that he was chosen to take...and it made matters worse to know that his new friend now thought that he had escaped.  If only he knew...and maybe it would be better if he did know...just so he would be aware of exactly what he was getting himself into.....

No no...no.  That would most certainly be the wrong choice!  After all, he still needed a place to stay, a place with water that wasn't salty so he could regain his strength.  If he told him that he had been the first-mate on a pirates ship, that he had stolen jewels and killed many men before....that was bound to be an ugly encounter and he wasn't yet ready to face the consequences of that....

Or the consequences of letting him know that he loved mussles....

Oh man...what a hole he'd now dug himself!  He was woven in a tangled web of lies and half truths!  It would definately be a nasty untangling session....

"Um...yeah...I think th'jars should 'ork" he said, realizing that his question about helping had been answered, "If they've been fired 'n stuff.....we use t'use clay on th'ship....bu' it was spec'lly made..."  Walking over, slowly to make sure his legs wouldn't randomly give out on him, he grabbed a handfull of the palms and went back to the fire pit, breaking up the long leaves slowly as his mind wandered.  

Was it really the best choice to keep this boy in the dark?  Hell, he wouldn't want some random pirate coming to stay with him, shipwrecked or not!  And just because he wasn't like most pirates, showing mercy and compassion where a lot of his companions would not,  he was still a pirate!  A wanted man in many different countries and islands....Gods...he was a walking target for this poor boy!  If anyone caught Kiyan with him, they would both be punished, and Kiyan wouldn't even have a reason!

Stop it...he told himself forcefully....he was looking out for his own well being and keeping his silence for now would work in his best interest.  Better to keep secrets then have a loose tongue....

Wasn't it?

"Um...d'ye get...pirates 'ere much?" he asked, still struggling with his emotions.  Better to hear Kiyan's view on pirates before he went blabbing about who he really was.....

[Rhindeer]

As Zarak was quiet, Kiyan almost grew afraid that he'd hit a sore spot somewhere among one of his sentences. He was talking a lot, and asking a lot of questions, and he knew it. Maybe he'd gotten carried away...but the man was nice and talking to him came rather easily. Not to mention a week on his own, no matter how much he claimed it didn't bother him, really had started to eat away at him. Sure, he could fend for himself just fine (or so he thought) but it didn't mean he actually enjoyed the solitude, and while he'd been wary at first of any consequences this man's presence might bring even as he worried about the man's health, now it seemed only a passing concern.

But then Zarak started to break up the dried palm frawns, and answered his question about the jars knowledgeably. Whew...so he wsn't upset at all. "Hmm...dunno if they've been fired..." But, then, low quality or not, why wouldn't they have been? Ah, but he didn't really know the process...the women mostly took care of that stuff. "But we can try it! If it breaks, it breaksâ€"" and he'd just have to find a chance to sneak off and grab a new one, without letting his new friend know. Man, that just wouldn't be good, letting him know there was a new-made petty thief among him. "â€"and if it doesn't...learn something new!"

He ducked back into the cave to empty the remaining mussels into a jar that already contained fresh water, then brought it an the basket of dead mussels out, the ones he would be tossing back to the sea. Looking over Zarak's work, he figured that he was almost done, and that the next step would just be the toughestâ€"actually getting the danged fire pit lit. He had a flint with him, but it still took forever to get the thing to work. He never could quite master it.

"That should be good," he said, setting the jar close by and kneeling near it. Okay...now, to get it lit. Kiyan glanced up once at Zarak, then at the little flint he'd brought out with him. Hopefully he could it by at least the fifth try and wouldn't make too big of a fool of himself. Yeah, that'd be a record.

And thus began the process of trying to birth a spark.

"Pirates? Um, I don't think so...like I said, we don't get many visitors." He hoped that's what he was talking about. But, just to make sure, he added sheepishly, "Heh...what is a Pirate? Sorry, I can't say I've heard the word before. I might have, but I don't remember." He kept his eyes down on the flint, slightly embarrassed. The way Zarak said it, it made it sound like it was something common that he should know about. Er...well, actually, he was just getting frustrated with the stupid fire. He'd almost gotten a spark, he knew it! Argh...why couldn't he just get it right just once, at least when he had company...

Well, that certainly answered Zarak's question well enough.