The young man, his neighbor, had dark skin, bright eyes, and an even brighter smile. He was clad much in the style of the Dust Quarter, which was to say absent many of the markings of a stable financial life. Ratty, mud-stained clothes to match his matted, mud-stained hair, Bakar could barely even tell the color underneath the layers of sweat and clumps of what he only hoped was dirt. Still, even his circumstance could not dim that man's smile, and the qi'ora did not need to speak their strange tongue to understand his neighbor's friendly intent.
Still, it would be helpful.
They sat together on the , quietly examining each other. He wished he could break the silence, but Bakar was unsure if the pair of them shared a language. It was odd, just sitting and looking at one another. However, Bakar was sure he was a stranger sight to the man than the man was to him. The qi'ora stood out among his own kind, and the lingering glances at the tapestry of ink-black veins that wove themselves up and down his body were familiar to him. His neighbor's eyes did not seem to bear ill will however, nor shock or fear. He just appeared intrigued.
"Common?" The stranger asked, breaking the silence first.
"Bad." Bakar replied simply, but even so short a reply felt jagged and rough in his mouth. He was used to his words flowing from throat to tongue, like the rare river formed from the Hotland's even rarer rains. Speaking Common felt like spitting sharp stones out into the air.
"Bad." his neighbor agreed, nodding in response. Bakar couldn't help but laugh at their shared misery, and he was thankful that his fellow also found their circumstance funny.
The stranger pointed to himself.
"Rahin."
The qi'ora's brows knit together in confusion, then smoothed as realization dawned on him. His neighbor was giving his name, and from the man's expectant look he was inquiring about the same.
"Bakar."
Rahin nodded in response, smiling broadly that the qi'ora had caught his latent intent. Bakar tracked his neighbor's eyes as they wandered across the room. He supposed that other's might've been embarrassed at the state of their home when entertaining their first guest, but pride in possessions was too rich a good fro men like Rahin and Bakar to afford.
Bakar watched his neighbor's eyes brighten as they landed on the idle hammer that sat underneath the still unaddressed hole in his wall.
"Maker?"
Bakar took a moment to ponder the word Rahin spoke. He hadn't heard it before, and his limited vocabulary was rapidly becoming stretched thin. Rahin seemed to catch the confusion, and began to pantomime using the hammer while making various
thunking sounds.
"Yes! Yes! Maker," Bakar beamed, both at learning a new word and his new friend's excited gaze.
Excitement was soon again replaced with confusion when Rahin suddenly rose and began hurriedly gibbering in that unknown tongue Bakar had encountered earlier. He pointed to the hammer, then back to Bakar, and made large fanning motions with his arms. Seeing what the uncertainty plain on Bakar's face, Rahin moved to grab the hammer.
Bakar hadn't even realized he had moved as his hand clamped around Rahin's wrist. The qi'ora's eyes had turned stony, his face pulled back into a snarl. Something primal, deeper than himself had seized him, even now as he seized his neighbor.
"Bad." His voice had dropped low. There was danger clear and present in his growl.
Rahin slowly released his loose grasp on the hammer. He looked up at Bakar with confusion, and more than a little fear.
"Bad," his neighbor agreed.
The hammer fell to the ground with a solid
thud. For a moment, both men stood frozen, a breath away from violence. Bakar could feel his muscles cord and tense with an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome, aggression. Slowly, slowly, he uncoupled his hand from Rahin's wrist. The man retreated quickly towards, quietly hissing and rubbing his bruised wrist.
Even then, however, Rahin looked towards Bakar with hopeful eyes. Again he pointed to the hammer, and then to Bakar. Desperation made the man quick to forgive, it seemed.
"Help. Please. Help."
