Life of the Silver Tear: Not Quite Human

A burst of air blasts a puff of dirt out of the ocarina. Kokeyera holds out her potato-shaped instrument and jams a reed inside of one of the holes to break up the dirt dried inside before blowing again, sending another cloud of dust out. Setting up a firepit nearby, Giniro asks while he works, “How’d you get dirt in that if you’re used to taking such good care of it?”

Kokeyera huffs at her instrument and throws down the broken reed stalk and picks up another. “I didn’t know it got mud in it in the first place, I tripped while we were on the road back in the swamp, I didn’t realize that so much got under my tunic, a glop must have splashed in.”

“Do you want me to see if I can get some of that?” Shugojin asks bashfully, hesitantly holding out a hand towards her. “I bet I have some thingamabob that could clean it out.”

Reiko glances at him and Shugojin tries to shrug it off. Kokeyera notices the exchange, but doesn’t understand and shrugs before handing her wood instrument to him, gently asking, “Please try not to scratch it much.”

Shugojin, emboldened, winks suggestively and replies, “Don’t worry, I’m gentle.”

“Not with my stuff,” Reiko says in a huff, missing the wink.

Shugojin glares at her, but just before he snaps in retaliation to her callous remark, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, letting both hands fall loosely to his sides. A moment later he raises the ocarina in one hand and a wooden scraper in the other.

“When’s supper gonna be ready?” The elfling asks in a not-quite-whine as she plops down next to a tree, crossing her arms impatiently.

Giniro packs away his bow fire-starter and answers, “I just got the fire started, Reiko, it’s going to be an hour for the tubers to cook.” He starts to stand up and pauses half-way. A beat passes before he ventures, “Where’s Koukatsu?”

“He said he wasn’t hungry and would rather meditate away from the fire,” Reiko answers simply.

Shugojin makes a sound like a cross between scoffing and snickering, a mild distaste clear on his expression. “I think that guy’s a vampire, he seems to love the shadows.”

Reiko notices that Giniro is still in a shallow crouch, listening intently, so the elfling inquires, “Why, something wrong?”

Giniro straightens, then reaches for his pack and begins quietly rifling through it for spices and cooking stuffs. “I don’t hear him,” he answers flatly.

There is a glance spared at Kokeyera, and she supplies, “Well, he did say he was heading out a ways to meditate.”

The tracker and Reiko share a glance caught by the jealous human girl, then Reiko hesitantly ventures, “Kokeyera, Giniro has very good hearing.”

Thoroughly confused, she glances between them for a few moments before stopping at Shugojin and tilting her head questioningly. The dwarfling blushes and Giniro returns to looking through his bag.

The son of Kuno sees her cast in the gentle firelight and his heart rockets into his throat. At that moment, somehow ‘not quite human’ seems appropriate, her beauty is mystical…ethereal. The way her long, chestnut-brown hair falls back past her shoulders and frames her porcelain face. The way the corners of her mouth turn up adorably, her smile sparkling in her eyes and shining stunningly over her entire face. The way her hazel eyes shine warm and invitingly, if the dwarfling wasn’t already sitting he’d melt to the ground.

“Shugojin? Are you done with my ocarina?”

Said holder of the musician’s instrument is suddenly glad that the fire’s light hides his blush and his face grows hot with heat having nothing to do with the flames. He swallows hard and tries to speak once before she reaches for her wooden instrument.

The dwarfling hesitantly hands the ocarina back to the beauty that must be not quite human, then his mouth quirks at the thought. Not quite human. He looks at the group around him. Reiko, an elfling with a little human blood. Giniro, another with elvish blood flowing through his veins. And himself, primarily dwarf and human. I guess she really fits in with us, because you could describe all of us as ‘not quite human’.