It had been a couple of months since Erramun's death, and Zuriñe’s subsequent push into a leadership role. Not only a leadership role, but a warrior role as well. She had barely allowed herself the time to mourn his death, and had hardly cried. Sadness was a sign of weakness, or so she'd been taught. Men didn't cry. What nonsense.

Emotionally she still felt numb to the entire situation. She felt like she was playing a part, acting in front of people, putting on a performance. And everyone was waiting for her to mess up, but also expected her to carry on perfectly. No crying or fumbling, no hugging Yanamari or praising her recent pottery attempt. Nothing positive, always negative. Frowning and grunting and glaring and staring. Sometimes she wasn't sure she was able to smile anymore, until she was alone with her daughter. Su could make her smile, Artea too, but no one else. At least, she'd yet to meet anyone else who could make her smile in happiness.

Su had one point in his disfavor, however. He'd urged her to go to the summer gathering despite her misgivings. She definitely wasn't sure she was ready to face anyone outside her own tribe, let alone the warlord's family, and other chiefs. They surely knew about her by now, but what would they think? She'd never met any of them personally and didn't know what she'd do when she met them. She honestly hoped she could avoid speaking to them directly the entire time.

Another point in Su's disfavor was his practice schedule. Even when they had left their home village behind he encouraged her to continue her weapon training. The first few nights she'd declined, but finally she relented. Ironically the one night she decided to practice was the night Su suddenly had the desire to spend time with his wife, so Zuriñe was alone. She couldn't practice battle moves by herself, so she dragged out her bow and arrows and strode as far away from the gathering as she could. Hopefully most people would be asleep or busy in other manners (like her stupid brother) and wouldn't come across her.

She picked another tree as a target and began to practice. Her archery skills were coming back to her, and she didn't hurt herself with the bow anymore. She almost always hit some part of the tree, if not the exact target she was aiming for. The rhythm was returning. Pulling back, letting go, notching, pulling back, etc., etc. She entered a trance of repeated movements.

Renna hated the loneliness of her tent these nights. If Izotz ever left to speak with other Zerui, she stayed behind-confident that no one would wish to speak with her, or if they did, the remarks would be along the lines of "Snake Eyes! Is she that white all over?"-and they would not be directed at her, but at her husband, who would answer for her as if she were a dog or-a horse. Renna winced at the memory of Izotz's own words to her, once. He thought of her more as a horse. She would probably be old and grey before the sting of that sentence faded.

It was at such times that the interloper girl very quietly put up her weaving, tidied the tent, and then slipped away to the very outer edges of the Gathering. She always carried a knife with her now, after the blind warrior had tried to take her; but she knew she would never be able to use it. Still, it made her feel a little bit safer, and she could wander the wild lands of Thiasa at her ease.

More specifically, she could step into 'her' copse of trees, a little grove that she claimed in her heart as a chapel and dream land and the one place she had friends to talk to. Renna had chosen the trees as her bosum confidantes, and had named them each in a token of friendship. When she was this lonely it was easy to pretend that the whisper of wind in the leaves were voices, and very easy to whisper back, just to hear her own voice speaking Scalian and to let the secret, heavy thoughts of her heart loose for a little while. Here there was no 'owning' and 'belonging.' Here there was only her.

This night, she had her arms around the one she called the 'Papa Tree.' It was the largest presence in the grove, and sedate and wise as her own father back in Thiasa. Renna smiled to herself and hid her head in the bole, imagining John's face as she annouced to him and the world that yes, she was to be married next week. It was an ongoing fantasy-one that had faded after Izotz had declared his love, and then started stronger than ever after he began his hunt for a real wife. After Gergori had pointed out that he was her owner. After she had been called 'interloper whore' more times than she could count. And after all her prayers and hopes had given her no sign of being promoted to Izotz's Only.

The girl was in the middle of a prayer when there was a 'whoosh' and a 'thunk'. Startled, she pulled away-only to see an arrow quivering in a little tree across the way. Her eyes widened. Some one was here, and they were trying to shoot her! Renna darted out of the copse and prayed that another arrow would not come her way, and let out a shout. "Stop, please!"

She could see the warrior now, arm drawn back for another shot. There was no where to run in the time it would take for the weapon to fly, so she closed her eyes and lowered her head. "Please don't. If you wish to kill me I need a moment to pray."

"Stop, please!"

Zuriñe snapped out of her practice trance and froze. Had someone yelled? It sounded like a girl, and it sounded like it came from the tree she was shooting at. Zuriñe had never been one to believe in spirits like the Endikai, but if the tree was suddenly talking to her she'd be open to the idea.

A few moments later the real owner of the voice stepped out from some nearby trees. No spirit, just a girl. She looked terrified, and bowed her head like she was preparing to die.

"Please don't. If you wish to kill me I need a moment to pray."

Zuriñe frowned and lowered her bow, letting the limbs retract. Pray? And why in the world did she think she was going to kill her? "Silly girl, step away from there. I'm not going to kill you." She marched briskly forward with a purposeful stride, gripping her bow and the remaining arrow in one hand. Once she was close enough and saw just who the girl was, she abruptly stopped.

She wasn't a Baskar. She was one of those interlopers. Zuriñe stared at the girl for a few moments in silence, thinking. She'd heard about interlopers around the camp, one that had come and gone, one for the sacrifice, and a woman. The son of that bloodthirsty chief had kidnapped her to be his concubine. This must have been her.

"Oh, it's you. Another victim of the Hibaii."

The child looked sheepish as she obeyed the instruction to 'step away', coming nearer with a head so lowered she might well have been ashamed of herself. But her step was light, and the lowered eyes only helped Renna hide her relief and surprise that the fearsome warrior was a woman. She stopped just in front of the lady and looked up at her in silence for a moment, noting that the stranger was very beautiful. She hoped that Izotz wouldn't meet her.

The silence stretched for a moment, then the girl started and lowered her eyes once more. "Oh! Yes, that's me. The victim of the Hibaii-now Izotzi..yes. My name is Renna Mochrie. " It had been a long while since she had introduced herself using her original last name, and it felt strange. Still, there was this nagging worry that if she didn't begin using it soon, she might forget the name she was born under. And she never wanted to forget. "Forgive me if I sounded foolish, but you see now why I might have reason to think you were trying to shoot me. There are some who would rather I....'left.'"

She smiled, painfully, and drew a circle in the grass with her toe. "I'm glad you weren't aiming for me. You would have hit." The compliment to Zuri's aim was coupled with a wistful sigh-now there was an arrow or two buried deep into the bark of her companions. It felt oddly depressing.

"Oh! Yes, that's me. The victim of the Hibaii-now Izotzi..yes. My name is Renna Mochrie. "

Izotz...marvelous. There weren't enough marriageable girls in the Zerui for him to snatch up? Not that Zuriñe would wish anyone on him, or anyone from his village. Whether or not it was a good thing that Hibai had been disposed had yet to be decided. Zuriñe was almost rueful that the old man had gone. Now she'd have to see Izotz as an equal.

....Renna Mochrie?

"Forgive me if I sounded foolish, but you see now why I might have reason to think you were trying to shoot me. There are some who would rather I....'left.'"

Zuriñe raised a brow. Well, this girl was an interloper, her kind had run the Baskar from their land into tighter quarters. They had weapons and tools the Baskar did not, and it would be no easy task to drive them out. If the Baskar could even manage to band together and do it. Zuriñe doubted this very much, and hated the idea of conflict more than the interlopers.

Now that she thought of it, she'd never seen an interloper woman before.

"I would rather you left too," Zuriñe remarked, though not unkindly. "Not to the arms of Eguzki, but to your own village." She tilted her head and suddenly noticed something else. "You speak Baskari very well for an outsider. Has that boy been teaching it to you?"

"I'm glad you weren't aiming for me. You would have hit."

"Pah." Zuriñe marched toward the tree she'd been impaling and began to pull out the arrows. "What are you doing sneaking around here this time of night anyway? Izotz already found another woman to warm his bed with?"

Renna flinched and looked away, where she gazed stonily at her feet. "No. Even if he did it wouldn't matter, would it, since I am not a wife." She hadn't meant to sound so rude, but this warrior woman might as well have loosed an arrow into her heart with her little reminder. Did the lady think that she would not also prefer to be home? Of course she had had her choice about that, but it was by no means something she didn't second-guess every day of the week. The times when Izotz called her beautiful and kissed her in his arms made her very certain that she had chosen rightly. And then the times when he was off hunting and she was alone and the Baskar were careful to call her the "sorgin interloper whore" made her doubly certain that she had been nothing less than a complete idiot. Right now she was feeling like an idiot, and it was making her snappish.

The girl quickly amended her sarcasm by confessing her reasons for being out to the lady, lowering her head even further by means of an apology. "I'm not sneaking." The Baskari woman probably thought that she was trying to run away. "I come here when I'm lonely, to talk to the trees and pray that somehow they get my messages home." Ah, there was the catch. No matter how much she cared for Izotz, this camp would never be home. That was what had her teetering on the edge of decision. "I know it's foolish but there is no one else to talk to, and I miss my Papa. "

Renna chanced a quick glance up, timidly. "I change things a little bit, though. I tell him and Mama that I'm married, and all sorts of other lies meant to make him happy. I can't help it. I know he blames himself for this and it makes my heart twist a little, so I try to make him smile." She nodded over to the tree she had been embracing earlier. "Unfortunately you shot him."

"No. Even if he did it wouldn't matter, would it, since I am not a wife."

Zuriñe narrowed her eyes at the girl. Did she just snap at her? She was tempted to right that wrong, but the girl probably didn't know who was talking to. Zuriñe sometimes felt odd when she pushed her weight around, but it was one of the only things she enjoyed about being a chief. Most everyone was below her, and had to respect her whether they wanted to or not. At least, to her face. She doubted very much that this girl knew who she was.

"I'm not sneaking. I come here when I'm lonely, to talk to the trees and pray that somehow they get my messages home. I know it's foolish but there is no one else to talk to, and I miss my Papa."

The older woman pressed her lips together. There was no doubt in her mind that the child was lonely. Why wouldn't she be? Dragged away from home by that idiotic boy. If he wasn't a chief Zuriñe would have been tempted to beat him. What made men think they could just go off and take people just because they wanted to? Especially women. This girl would be ridiculed and ostracized for the rest of her life.

"I tell him and Mama that I'm married, and all sorts of other lies meant to make him happy. I can't help it. I know he blames himself for this and it makes my heart twist a little, so I try to make him smile. Unfortunately you shot him."

Zuriñe tilted her head to the side like a dog trying to digest a command. "Did I?" She looked at the tree she'd been shooting at, now pulled clean of the arrows. With one fluid movement she notched her bow again, pulled back, and fired at it once more. The arrow sliced through the air and hit the tree dead center.

"Hmm..." Zuriñe hummed thoughtfully. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, child. I shot a tree, not your father." She turned to stare at the girl again, all business. "Trees are not humans, and will never be humans. Praying to them is stupid. If you want to speak to your family so badly, why not just leave and see them?"

That did it. The child's lip started to tremble, and she bit down on it, hard. Not quite in time to catch her welling tears, however-and before Zuri could blink Renna was weeping. She cried silently, with her gaze fixed stubbornly on the ground and her hair swinging forward to cover her face as her tiny frame shook. Renna didn't even know how to answer a question like that. The girl had to wonder if this warrior woman was being cruel on purpose.

"...Don't tease me like that. " It was whispered, but so desperately it took on a knife edge of its own. "Please don't tease me..."

The words mangled in tears, and she moved to the tree and wrapped her arms around it, trying in vain to tug out the offending arrow. It was too easy to see John impaled on the end. Far too easy. These heartless barbarians wouldn't even care about it. All at once hurt turned to anger and she snapped her head up. "...Or do you mean to say that you really think an interloper woman has any chance sneaking away from her husband and every warrior, and then making it across the wilderness with no experience hunting or living outside? Stoneheart!"

She hurled the name at Zuri with as much accusation as she could muster. "Heartless, when you knew better than I that what you suggest is impossible. I've tried. I've tried."

Renna did not add that Izotz had offered her his aid; while it was extraordinarily kind of him she knew that acceptance would mean never seeing him again. She also knew that pointing this out would ruin him in the eyes of the tribe. "And I don't pray to trees!"

"...Don't tease me like that. " It was whispered, but so desperately it took on a knife edge of its own. "Please don't tease me..."

Zuriñe almost took a step back as the girl suddenly began weeping. Instantly she felt awful. She was being so mean to the girl, who was among strangers and hated by everyone and would probably never see her family again. Zuriñe looked at her and saw the daughter she should have had. She didn't know how old this girl was, but certainly not so old she couldn't have been her own child. If Eguzki had bothered to bless her sooner, at any rate. She loved Yanamari, but Zuriñe wished she could have had other children. Then everything might have been infinitely different.

She wasn't sure what to do to comfort the girl, however. Her fist instinct was to hug her, but that might not be the right thing for her to do. The girl probably didn't want such a thing anyway, especially now after she was obviously hurt by what Zuriñe said. The chief watched silently as the girl went to the tree she'd shot and struggled to pull out the arrow.

"...Or do you mean to say that you really think an interloper woman has any chance sneaking away from her husband and every warrior, and then making it across the wilderness with no experience hunting or living outside? Stoneheart!"

Zuriñe blinked in surprise. Stoneheart? Well...that was what she wanted, wasn't it? She didn't want to seem soft in front of people now that she was the chief of her tribe, right? But it still hurt. She didn't want to act like that. Even if this girl was an interloper, it wasn't like everything that was happening was her fault. That boy had taken her away against her will. And it was silly to blame her for Erramun's death or the state of the Baskar.

"Heartless, when you knew better than I that what you suggest is impossible. I've tried. I've tried. And I don't pray to trees!"

Zuriñe sighed and walked over to the tree. She wrapped her hand around the arrow and tugged it out of the bark. She even rubbed the spot it'd embedded itself in. "Forgive me, child," she murmured. She wasn't sure if there might be others around. "Of course I wouldn't expect you to wander so far. Alone." She twirled the arrow between her fingers, the fletching circling around in the air.

"If you needed help, I might be willing to offer." She looked at the girl with a blank expression. "If that's what you want. I wouldn't want to force you to do something. Like that boy."