Tallel, Zalara


Zalara visits the caravan grounds to see the newly-returned Zingari and makes a new acquaintance.


It is late night of the thirteenth day of the first month of the second Turn of the 12th Pass.


Caravan Grounds, Igen Weyr

OOC Date


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Caravan Grounds

Deep grooves in the hard packed earth criss-cross a large patch of denuded ground, bearing mute testament to the caravans that frequent this area. Despite the midden holes set back a ways from the main center of traffic, the air is sweet, redolent with the sagebrush that forms a loose perimeter around the flattened expanse. In what is as close to its center as the vague boundaries suggest, a stone ringed fire pit has been dug and surrounded with the odd log or two, ash overflowing from its darkly blackened core.

It's a very clear, very chilly night, but it's calm, and the more night-owlish sorts among the Zingari are up and about, chatting and laughing and even drumming, dancing, and idly twirling fire and flipping knives here and there around a few different fires. Among them is Tallel, the young healer wandering about in the fleece-lined boots, loose pants, long jacket, and four-paneled hat that make up the winter garb unique to his clan of origin. He's hovering around a fire near the outskirts of the wagons, shaking his head and laughing with some of the young men around his age, the dark-haired, brown eyed Zingari seeming to be simply enjoying himself before ending his day.

Zalara has heard the Zingari were back and she has been very busy with her apprenticeship. She finally gets a night off where she isn't tired and she has bundled up to see what is going on. She wanders in close, but not too close. She hears the fire and laughs and she spots another fire close to the outskirts. She sees some young men there and she hmms nervously.

"No, these clothes don't work so well for that," Tallel is replying to some remark or other as he stands up, mug in hand. Whatever could he be talking about? That isn't forthcoming as he sidles around behind one cusp of the group, just as Zalara wanders over. "I'm going to find some more klah. Anyone up for some?" Murmured and grunted responses abound - none intelligible - and Tal snorts. "About as easy to understand as Dustin's sheep, the bunch of you. I'll be back." He turns and takes several strides before Zalara is spotted, and he slows. "Heyla, apprentice," the Zingari teen hails her, brown eyes quickly sizing her up before he leans nonchalantly against the nearest wagon and folds his arms. "What brings you out near the Zingari?"

Zalara nods politely as she's approached, "Hello there. I had heard that the Zingari were back, my name is Zalara. I'm an apprentice smith." She looks around. "Well I've been to a couple Zingari functions and…I'm here to make sure a trouble making brat hasn't come back. I don't see anyone trying to do some fire tossing, so I'm going to tentatively assume he's not."

Tallel chuckles and gestures back over his shoulder, where there is, in fact, a lone firedancer practicing a few tosses with small torches. The man doing so, however, is quite a bit older than anyone who might earn the 'brat' title. "Someone's always playing with fire here," he says, "but I doubt he's who you're talking about. Still, if this 'brat' of yours were with us," he smirks a little, a bit of hauteur rising to his expression, "you probably wouldn't get near him. The Zingari have returned, but we're a different people now, so he'd have to be different. If he couldn't adapt, he wouldn't belong." He sips at the dregs of his klah, letting his smirk become a smile. "I'm Tallel," he says with a little bow. "A pleasure, apprentice Zalara. You knew the Zingari before?" His gaze drifts back to the fire for a moment. "You'll find a lot of new faces, I think." Like his, for one.

Zalara nods as she narrows her eyes to see the man practicing, "No that's not him. Hopefully you will be better treated this time around then last time. Yes, I was at Willamina's wedding and I went to the big party they had right before they left. You are a new face." She gives a smile.

"Hmmm," is Tallel's nodded evaluation of the fact that Zalara had been to Willimina's wedding. "I didn't know her before…but I think you'll probably find her to be a different woman than you remember, too." His gaze drifts again, this time in the general direction of the Reika wagons not too far distant before he looks back at her. "Oh, I know I'm a new face," he says, a charming grin flickering white in the shadows. "But I think you'll find plenty more besides mine. Klah?" he asks, brandishing his mug a little. Being nice to an outsider? Yes, Tal is known to do that.

Zalara nods a little bit as she frowns. "Yah, losing someone you care about can change you." She gives a smile back and looks at the mug, "Sure some klah sounds good to me Tallel. So what do you do here in the caravan?" She asks hoping that he's not another troublemaker.

Oh, certainly he's a troublemaker - as are most Zingari boys! Tallel chuckles, suppressing the desire to answer just so. He's old enough that pickpocketing isn't as high a priority as it once was. "I'm a healer," he replies. "My aunt and I helped heal up a good many in the caravan while they were out in the desert. Sickness…took a lot of them." He's quiet for a moment as he leads the Smith girl over to a small klah hearth near the main wagon and finds a clean mug. "But we're strong now. I also practice illusions. And dancing sometimes, but Auntie Mel - Melusine…she's the one who's good at it. Like Willimina." He fills the mug and passes it to Zalara with an inclination of his head. "What sort of smithing do you do for the Weyr?"

Zalara ahs as she follows along after. "I hope that they are doing better now and that everyone has recovered. Oh what kind of illusions?" she asks curiously. "I love to dance. I hope that you know enough not to step on a girl's toes." She hmms. "Mostly whatever I'm told to, I help out with a bit of everything and I have to take a class on how to make jewelry." Zalara takes the mug. "Thank you, it is very chilly out tonight." She takes a sip of the klah.

"The kind that use what's all around us," Tallel replies to the matter of his illusions, making an expansive gesture with another grin. Then he gives a little waggle of his eyebrows. "I do. The dancing I've been learning is mostly alone. With a sword. But I know plenty." He nods as he relinquishes the mug and refills his own. "It is. It gets cold in the Steppes, too, but not like this. Probably because it's a bit lower out there, where I'm from."

The two teens talk for a little while longer…until the other young men of the camp notice a stranger in their midst. Fortunately, Tallel has enough pull among them to get them to shut up about it and, feeling it's only right, walks Zalara to the edge of the caravan grounds once she decides to leave. Then he returns to the fire, likely with a few words about being too suspicious ready for the other boys sitting there.

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