LOST. [sope]

8

The next few days found Yoongi and Hoseok adapting to the village and its people. They even got to try roasted rabbit meat.

The people around them took longer to adjust with these outsiders. They chattered in small groups about a certain pale skinned beautiful boy and his friend who looked like he was sculpted by the heavens.

Though a language barrier existed, Hoseok and Yoongi started observing the people. They realized that the powerful man with the elaborate headgear was the chief. Yoongi’s friend, his daughter.

The village was divided on the basis of the work they did. A group of men and women hunted and guarded the entire place day and night. Another group were tasked with preparing food. A group of old women with the chief’s mother leading them were priests. The river flowing close by was one of their Gods. The other one being the sun itself. A particular spot next to the river was their holy place, the chief’s old mother the only one granted access.

They were fascinated, and having being atheists for all their lives, they found it mind-blowing how these people were so connected to the natural gifts around them, so in love with the greenery that surrounded their lives.

And Yoongi loved this. He loved the peace and quiet, only disturbed by sounds like wee children crying or the river gushing by. He loved every bit of it. 3 days were enough to fall in love.

Hoseok had recovered pretty quickly from his wounds, he got to remove most of his bandages. The only remaining one was around his forearm, some injury he couldn’t quite remember getting. Therefore, he was given a spot among the warriors. He would be learning how to fight. A necessary skill in these parts.

Yoongi’s ankle was in no condition to be allowed such privilege. He was put along with the people who were charge of the food. Something he could sit and do.

His friend was part of it too, showing him the ingredients to add and the ways to use the stone knife with the help of gestures. Yoongi found himself absolutely at ease, enjoying his time sitting near the river bank with at least thirty other people, cooking in clay pots. They made sure not to give him too much work. Even though he was becoming a part of the clan, he was a guest after all.

His friend  sometimes dragged him around to sit at a very pretty spot near the river. They never talked, obviously. She just tied up pretty flowers in different arrangements, teaching him the same. He liked the white noise that enveloped him as they worked. The river, the rustle of the breeze, and the graceful motions of his pretty friend’s hands. He wondered if she had a name, more like if he’d ever come to know it.

Another reason he liked the spot was, it had a clear view of where the warriors trained.

It wasn’t that far, the clearing where muscular man over muscular man wrestled and polished their skill in weaponry. Yoongi’s  gay and proud side was in high spirits. Hoseok was there too, his torn up tank top long forgotten, learning hand to hand combat.

When Yoongi realized why his friend was so interested in sitting in this spot, a surge of jealousy coursed through him.

Oh girl, not him. You’re gonna have to go through me for that man.

Hoseok had pushed his opponent to the ground in a swift motion of his leg. He momentarily looked up at where Yoongi was sitting, the eye contact making Yoongi’s cheeks flare.