“Well, let’s get going.” Rorik said after a few minutes of silence, “This was good. I’m glad I got to spend these moments with you.”
Kaara nodded. How long had they been here? It did not feel very long, but she knew it had been at least an hour. Rorik offered her a hand and pulled her up. Kaara took the opportunity to hug him, “Find more than one reason to live, alright?” she whispered in his ear before breaking away and grinning at him.
She ran away, leaving him alone with his thoughts for a little while. If anything it was more for more sake than his. She needed to collect herself.
Rorik was so selfish. He wanted to make sure that in case he died he would leave nothing unsaid, but he did not allow Kaara to do the same. She wondered if she should feel happy about his confession. She did not feel terrible about it, just… frustrated. What if Rorik ended up dying and she could not say anything to him? What if he went through hell and back for her, and she couldn’t return his feelings? What if something terrible happened to someone else? Did the two of them deserve to be happy so soon after the ceremony?
She loved Rorik deeply, but she had never given it much thought as to whether those feelings were that of family or something else. She enjoyed his company, but no one in the camp had ever given her a reason to explore those feelings deeper. The last person she had expected to be tied down by love was Rorik, and much less to her.
Her mind still kept coming back to the same thought. Had Rorik only thought of himself when he said that? Was it wrong for him to say it in the first place? She could not blame him for what he did, but she also wished he had allowed her to tell him how she felt. She wished he had not put everything on her, and determined that she was his sole reason for living. She did not want to be his only reason to live because what if something happened to her?
Yes she could not bring herself to say any of that to Rorik when he confessed. She did not want to worry him, or make him sad. She knew he had not put everything on her intentionally. If anything, it would be easier if Kaara could reconcile her feelings with a simple ‘I don’t like you’. She did like him, but she did not know what way. Rorik did, though, which is why she felt a twinge of guilt lingering in her gut. He was sure of his feelings, and Kaara was afraid of crushing him if she could not manifest them too.
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She summoned an igloo around herself and screamed as loud as she could. She did not know if it was from excitement, anxiety, or something in between. All she did know was that she needed to let it out. When did things become so complicated? What had she done to deserve any of this? She felt stupid for not understanding Rorik’s feelings earlier. Maybe if she had taken the hints she would have been able to answer them by now. Tulos had tried to tell her. She could already see the smug look on his face. Grinning at her like the most self-satisfied fox in the world.
As the igloo melted around her, she made her way back to camp. She needed to get her mind off of things. She took a glance at the sun. Would Shiira mind if she went to dancing practice early today? Over the last few weeks, Kaara had been preparing for the Siren Ceremony in more ways than one. On the eve of the Siren Ceremony, she was meant to perform with the other healers of her tribe. It was a spectacle for their visitors, but it was also a ritual of good fortune and health. The ritual itself would impart a great boon of energy and vitality to everyone in the camp, and it was one of the most important preparations to be met before the Siren Ceremony. Understanding that it could be the difference of life and death for the participants of the ceremony, Kaara had never slacked or skipped a year.
Dancing and motion always made her magic stronger too. She never understood why, but she felt at peace when she was learning it. It was as much a part of her as her tail at this point. She could express herself in any number of ways without anyone really knowing what it meant unless they paid very close attention. Maybe she could get through her feelings that way? After all, she did not want to go into the Siren Ceremony with any regrets either.
As she approached the tent, she heard Shiira’s voice. “Come on, girlie, you want to impress people right? Then you need to put in the work!” she said.
Kaara stopped at the entrance. Was someone else already in there?
“Good. Good! See? Once you put your pride away, what’s left is talent. Dancing is art, but even art has fundamentals. Overcomplicate it with self-expression too soon and you’ll be tripping over yourself like a fool. On my beat, ready?” Shiira said sternly.
Curious about who was getting private lessons, Kaara peeked in through the small opening at the entrance of the tent. She saw Shiira first. She was their tribe’s elder, and nearly one hundred years old, but one would never be able to tell just by looking at her. Her face was still young, beautiful and unscarred. She often changed the color of her hair with her magic, and for today she was sporting a black and auburn pattern which cascaded in voluminous wavy locks across her left eye. Her steely whip-like tail was coiled around her thigh, a habit she had passed onto Kaara. She clapped her hands on an even beat, “One, two, three, four, and turn! Good!” she said.
There was a flash of white hair as the dancer stepped into Kaara’s view. It was Sancta.