Who

Onari

What

Onari's encounter with Jhael brings up questions to which there are no easy answers.

When

It is evening on the twenty-second day of the second month of the second Turn of the 12th Pass.

Where

Onari's Wagon; Caravan Grounds, Igen Weyr

OOC Date

 

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Onari's Wagon

The smallest of the Reika wagons - since it's only for one person - Onari's is likely also the coziest, and not just because it's small. Her bed lies all the way at the back, thick pillows and blankets spread around generously for warmth during these cold winter months. Small cabinets hold food and other necessaries, while slightly larger ones hold leather and tools necessary for her trade. Hooks just inside the door hold tack for her runner, Gola, and some necessary implements (small whips, etc.) she uses to help her mother with the animals. Large slat windows on either side can be propped wide to let the air flow through, or latched firmly shut from within. Plenty of glowbaskets cast warm light about the wagon as needed in the darker hours, and Onari makes certain that any visitors have a good place to relax as evidenced by all the richly hued cushions she keeps about. It's a practical atmosphere, though with just enough of a feminine touch to make clear who lives here.


THUMP.

Silence.

For a moment at least. Soon enough, a protracted hiss of air sounds in the warmer air of Onari’s wagon, emanating from where the trader girl leans against the door she’d just yanked shut. Being out at night has never bothered her, the darkness just as welcoming and enfolding as daylight sometimes…but tonight, the familiar coziness of her wagon is welcome after where she’s just been. Not that it was far away - just several strides, really - or that her encounter with Jhael frightened her at all…

It really didn’t, but perhaps it should have. She should have slapped him for the hand on her leg and stormed off then. She doesn’t actually need to learn knife throwing, after all; she just wants to learn for safety on the road, and there are other ways of ensuring that, certainly. She should go to Papa right now and tell him what Jhael did, get the broody teen sent on his way again…but she doesn’t. She won’t. He works well and is in a better environment than his previous one, it would seem, and that is enough to keep him there.

Jhael is not Goran. She reminds herself pointedly of this, not that she needs to. The air moves differently about each man. Jhael has time to grow and change in life, if he’s willing. Goran has settled into an unmoving way of living that pleases him - one that Onari believes bodes ill for others, if he chooses.

Perplexed at herself, Onari pushes away from the door and crosses to her bed, deciding to change for the evening and turn in. Yet each motion seems almost frustrated, brisk and unrefined as she sheds layers and trades them for nightclothes. How can she operate in paradoxes so? Wanting to be with someone who will treat her well, stand between her and harm, and respect her, yet also drawn in by mystery and a hint of danger and darkness… Can both sides exist in someone? Do they exist in Jhael? She is doubtful - at least for right now. She doesn’t know him well. He hasn’t exactly been what she’d call kind thus far, though she sees the potential for some reserved, exclusive form of it. She hopes his boldness isn’t a lack of respect as much as it is simply testing her - and if that’s all it is, it’s a test she intends to pass.

She shouldn’t allow her curiosity about him to fuel her intrigue, shouldn’t pursue anything having to do with it, and shouldn’t encourage his interest in her. But she wants to. And that is why she’s frustrated with herself. She knows better…but she wants the thrill of the risk, of figuring out what might come from this discordant dynamic she has with Jhael.

Finn will probably try locking her in her wagon if he ever finds out what's going on in her head. And possibly kill Jhael if he ever suspects their newest trader’s intentions.

She’ll risk that, too.

Who knows why Onari works the way she does? Maybe she requires conflict and confusion to thrive.

With a quick, quiet burst of breath, she extinguishes the candle in the brazier near her bed and settles in for the night. Maybe the darkness will be kind in this moment and send her to sleep, rather than allowing her to continue puzzling over her own strange whims.

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