from the mountains feeds it.”
A lake?
I didn’t know the south lands could look like this. Beautifully majestic, with shimmering water, deep, dark forests, and mountains, all within view. Of course, a large part of me missed the sea, missed the familiar air it swept in along the coast…but at least there was water here.
I felt some tension release from my shoulders. Seeing this lake was like greeting a familiar friend.
I will be okay here, I thought.
Kiran led his darukkars through the gates of his horde. To my surprise, I saw it had a similar layout—at least from the portion I could see—to the saruk. There was a large gathering space for feasts and celebrations at the front, next to a training enclosure where I saw darukkars sparring with one another, their golden blades flashing in the sunlight. A wide path ran north, which looked like the main road of the saruk, and I assumed it connected most of the volikis.
Though, instead of the tall buildings made of stone like I was used to, these domed tents were low to the ground, stuck to the earth. Some were much larger than others, so I assumed that they served different purposes.
As for the horde members themselves, various Dakkari, old and young alike, came to greet their Vorakkar. They made a path for us, lining the main road, as Kiran led Roon to the pyroki enclosure, situated towards the back of the horde.
There, I received another shock. Nothing prepared me for the sheer amount of pyrokis, or the sheer size of the massive enclosure. I saw warriors in the enclosure, a mrikro, the pyroki master, giving orders as they built them nests for the coming frost. A huge endeavor, considering there were over a hundred creatures.
Kiran brought Roon to a stop and I slid off the pyroki, stroking his snout, highly aware of the crowd of Dakkari that had formed, following us from the main road.
I felt their eyes on me, heard the whispers, some of which I could make out.
“Why does he bring a vekkiri back home with him?”
“Why is she dressed in saruk adornments?”
“Look at her pendant. It is Dothik made. Look at how small it is. She dares to wear that here?”
As that last statement reached my ears, my hand drifted to the valley of my breasts and I felt a burning in my throat. Though small, my mother’s pendant was heavy and comforting.
The Dakkari who spoke about it was a female, tall and imposing and beautiful. Her dark skin was a similar shade to my own, though that was where our similarities ended. She had piercing golden eyes and long, silky black hair that reached her wide hips.
Her tail flicked across the ground and she was dressed in a long dress that brushed the tops of her feet, that molded to her flesh. Through the thin material, I could see her nipples, painted gold, something I knew horde females did often, especially if they were searching for mates.
My back straightened. I’d learned from a young age that if I didn’t stand up for myself, then I would always be seen as weak. Coming to Kiran’s horde, I needed to make my new rank known. Because a mokkira was held in the same respect as all the masters in the horde were and I expected to be treated as such.
“It was my lomma’s,” I voiced, bringing my gaze to the Dakkari female, seeing her golden eyes widen with a bit of surprise. Suddenly, the whispering ceased, a hush quieting the crowd. “And it is not Dothik made. It was made by a talented goldsmith in the saruk of Rath Okkili.”
I heard the shocked murmurs at my declaration.
“She speaks our tongue?”
“Who is she?”
The female dropped her gaze away from my mine and I felt my chin lift further. When I looked behind me, I saw Kiran had dismounted from Roon. His eyes lowered to the pendant, nestled between my breasts, his jaw clenching, before his eyes returned to mine in question.
Remembering that we were in his horde, in front of a large crowd of his people, I dropped my own gaze. Though I disliked him, I still had to show my respect for his position, especially since I expected others to show their respect for mine.
To distract myself, I patted Roon’s snout, who chuffed and nuzzled against my hand. At least until the mrikro appeared at my side, the older male giving me a disapproving frown as he led Roon away,