It's quite amusing, how queer a little girl can be. First she barges in on me as I gather my weapons, then she barges back out and I end up with that girl, Norida, and a man by a name that I cannot recall. Everyone has been suspicious of me since I arrived at this.... village. It doesn't matter, I'm here for my tribe, to help them understand the world of the white man.
They will be shocked once they learn of the truth about the Fae. We have legends about magical creatures, who are good and bad. It turns out those creatures are real. I'm guessing the women here are not used to me and my people. Considering they keep questioning me, my intelligence, my people, my reasons for being here, and almost everything I do. It doesn't help that the most recent questioning, Norida gave my name. In my village, one does not know another's name unless they are of blood or like blood in spirit.
The white man here doesn't understand why my people don't engage in petty fights or squabbles. We don't because we believe in fighting only when we have to and arguing only over a trade. That's why I keep my silence when questioned, because I have no need to right my position in front of an enemy. Which is why I am irritated with Norida for defending me. Now, as I take a walk by myself, lost in thought, I see a certain someone on a rooftop. Alone.
I remember the others calling her Kate. I sit for a while and watch her, trying to figure out why she looks confused and lost. Then I turn and see a man gazing at her as well. Appears that someone has an admirer. I smirk and study the man, trying to think back on all the faces I've seen. He has kinky hair, medium build and height, and a bit of a beard. I know him, but from where? Shaking my head, I walk towards the infirmary tent. I don't understand how ignorant the people here can be when it comes to love. In my village... in my village...
"In your village? Did they have a lot of pretty girls there?" I stop, startled out of my reverie. Was I speaking my thoughts out loud?
"Who are you?" I ask with narrowed eyes.
"Forgive me, Milady. My name is Griever." As much as any man can do, the man who speaks to me tries to bow in the infirmary bed that he resides in.
"Griever." I test his name, making sure I will remember it. I recall how heavily he was carrying himself back to the camp. It takes a man of great strength to do what he did. His green eyes were weak with exhaustion, his face contorted in pain. It was like one of our male warriors coming back after a long battle.
"Would you tell anyone if I left the infirmary early?" Griever asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
I smile, knowing my answer before he asks. "Yes. So don't try to pull anything, because I'm no fool."
"Why, I would never suggest such a thing! I would just enjoy an evening stroll, that's all." He shrugs with an innocence too true to believe and then winces and looks down at his arm, which was still bound by a sling.
I slide back another comment to distract him from his arm. "Well, you won't be getting one anytime soon." Again, I smile, quite enjoying this lion of a man who reminds me of my fellow warriors.
A woman who I don't recognize, but who Griever does, walks in and I know he won't be able to 'enjoy a evening stroll'. I bid my farewell and he says goodnight as I hurry out of the infirmary. I wouldn't want another questioning to occur. I hear laughter far off into the night and decide that a evening stroll would suit me just about now.