Dust to Dust | ✓

7.2 || Sea Glass

Zehra made quick work of the deer carcass, carving out what she wanted and disposing of what she didn't. Aiko hung back, struggling to resist the urge to tap her foot impatiently. Her eyes darted around the forest, arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. As the sun sank lower, her stomach began to knot with unease.

"I can't carry the whole thing back," Zehra explained the first time Aiko tried to rush her. Her tone was patient, though her words were biting. "I may be strong, but there's a limit to what I can do."

"Isn't hunting a man's job?" Aiko snapped back, letting loose a bit of the impatience in her voice. She folded her arms and fixed Zehra with a firm stare. "You know, they possess more physical strength than women do, so it would make sense. Why are you doing it, then?"

Zehra chuckled humorlessly, dry like the endless rolling waves of sand in the deserts of Kileus. "I don't have a man to take care of this for me right now, so I have to learn to do it myself."

Aiko couldn't find the words to argue further after that. She clamped her mouth shut, turned up her nose, and waited. Seconds dragged into minutes while the sun sank further behind the trees until its dappled light faded almost completely, silencing the birds. Once Zehra had finished cutting up the meat into as many chunks as she could carry, she rose, cleaned her knife and sheathed it, and collected her sack of bloody deer chunks. Crimson splatters stained her pale blue skirt, matching it with the white cloth which she used to clean her knife and hands before tucking it away. If it bothered her, she made a great deal of effort not to show it; her face was stoic, perfectly still and focused like an undisturbed pool of water. Yet, despite her stony face, she wasn't as empty as Felix had been back when he was little more than Kou to Aiko. Unlike him, Zehra wasn't quite void, not quite blank, but she was reserved.

She hefted the sack over one shoulder and nodded to Aiko. "Shall we?"

Aiko cast a parting glance at the remains of the white deer. It lay in pieces, with only its head in tact, tongue lolling and eyes glassy. A pool of blood surrounded it, and bits of its flesh and skin lay scattered around. Bile coated her throat, but she quickly swallowed and jerked her face away, wringing Felix's cloak between her hands. She hurried after Zehra.

"Isn't that dangerous and... unsanitary?" she murmured. The cloak twisted in her fingers again, soft beneath her skin. "You'll make less money for this catch if people learn you carved it up in the middle of the woods. And the remains will attract animals. And you're covered in blood. And—"

With a sigh, Zehra stopped in her tracks and whirled to face her. In the fading sunlight, her crystal blue eyes seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, minimizing the wrinkles between her brows as she scowled. "Listen, out here, I do things my way. This catch is only for me—I'm not seeking to make money off it. That animal was pure, so as long as I cook its meat right, it doesn't matter how I take it apart. It will be clean."

"Pure?" The word rolled strangely off of Aiko's tongue, foreign—though she knew perfectly well what it meant. It resonated with her, pulled by something small and warm in the depths of her soul, heavy as it dropped to the pit of her stomach. Purity was sought by the Core, by her flame. Pure was the way the priests would describe the room of the Core and the remains of its phoenix god.

Zehra quirked a brow, her thin lips pinched. Turning, she hefted her sack again. "Do you want to spend all night out here questioning my ways of life or do you want me to get you to town?"

"No, please, don't stop on my account." Aiko waved her away, a sly smile pulling at her lips. She clasped her hands behind her back and pushed close to Zehra's side, grinning up at her. "We can talk on the way."