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Gob-kin clan burrows were great pits descending ever downward in a circular fashion. Divots and carve-outs in the side of the wall provided some interior ‘rooms’ for living quarters and the like. But the winding screw-shaped path allowed easy and constant access to the bright Fellmire sun for the entire pit during the peak midday hours.
Receiving a healthy dose of sunlight was important in gob-kin culture. It fulfilled the important and biologically essential rite of ‘catching some rays’ by which they got most of their nutrients from photosynthesis, right out of the sun.
At the bottom of the burrow was a pool of water, a natural wellspring. The entire pit had been a big old sinkhole that was once flooded up to the brim, just another boggy bit of the mire. As the waters receded a clan of ancient gob-kin had settled in, a clan that were Domitia’s ancestors.
Cut to modern day, and the burrow had been expanded, adapted for electric lighting, and filled with modern amenities and comforts. The bed was extra tall – Auntie claimed they’d gotten a big one just to accommodate Razan’s lanky and awkward human stature.
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A stifling hot afternoon turned into a cooler early evening. Shadows grew long as the sun angled ever-so-slightly towards the lip of the pit. Domitia and Razan were set up in their own room near the bottom of the pit. The bed was wider and plusher than the one they had at home. The pair sat in this room, tired from their journey of many days.
“So, is this your childhood room? Or what?”
Domitia shook her head. “I’ve been to the burrow maybe a dozen times, longest period was for a month between primary school semesters. They set me up in a few different rooms. Have no attachment to this room. Or any room, really.”
It was a while before Domitia spoke again.
“Ah, it’s always mother putting me up for these festivals.” Domitia kicked her feet. “If she hadn’t moved back, and if the college weren’t so dang frigid year-round, I’d probably…”
“I… kind of like this place,” Razan admitted. “It’s homey.”
“You don’t have to flatter my family, dear. There’s no need to ask anyone for permission to date me or anything.”
“It’s not that.” Razan felt a blush coming on. “I just find this place, this dwelling, well, fascinating…”
“Well, I’m glad to know you find ancestral old country hovel to be interesting in an anthropological sense.”
Domitia rested her head against Razan’s shoulder and just sat there for a time.
“Thanks,” she said softly after a time. “For being here. It’s never really been home. Mom was on the boat nearly as soon as dad’s cremation was done. It was a small miracle that I was even able to go to the college. Probably only because I was already registered and had a legacy admission. And she hasn’t stopped going on about ‘oooh, the old country’s traditions’ since she got back. Kind of gets on my nerves.”
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Razan wrapped and arm around her.
“You, uh, don’t want to take part in this festival?” he asked.
“Oh? What? It’s not that.” Domitia’s brow wrinkled. “I’ll do it. It’s fun. I just… don’t have any nostalgic attachment to it is all.”
“I hate to ruin the mood, but, uh, who was the previous guy?”
“Hmmm? Oh, Sven?” Domitia snuggled closer. “Dated a dwarven-kin between high school and college. He was really short, so the kiddos were more effective at gnawing at his ankles and other weak points. So he bailed before the festival. You’ve already lasted longer when meeting my insane family. Congratulations.”
From outside in the pit, a great foghorn-sounding BURRRRRR wafted up from below.
“Sounds like the cue.” Domitia rose from the bed. “Feel free to come out once the moon’s up. Might be entertaining at least.”
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Within an hour of Domitia being called away, Razan heard some rustling about in the water deep in the pit. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and immediately a full moon had bathed the area outside this cave with a beautiful, pale bluish hue.
Razan shuffled about. Hmmm. Moon is out. Perhaps…
He took some tentative steps outside.
The exterior walkway wound gently down into a natural wellspring, waters at thereabouts ankle-height. A lone figure swayed about in the water, disguised by the glare of the moon reflected almost perfectly on the water.
It was a quick and quiet route down to the pool, the water supply for the entire hovel. Razan walked until the water lapped up at his feet.
There, dancing about in the water, was Domitia. She’d swapped her mage college-brand outfit out for some silky whitish robes that notably avoided her shoulders and midriff. The robes came with a sash and headdress that Domitia held in her hands and swung around. And it all had just the right white-hued sheen to reflect the full moonlight.
Domitia’s eyes were closed as she swayed about, then opened her eyes just as she turned towards Razan.
“Hey, Auntie, the water should be the perfect height for the midnight – yo!” Domitia nearly stumbled mid-sway, apparently expecting someone else. “Uh, Razan, honey… how do I look?”
Razan gave no response, which was apparently all the answer his gob-gf needed.
Another blush crept up on Domitia’s cheeks.
“Like… like what you see?” she asked, glancing away.
This time, Razan managed a nod.
Domitia smiled. “Well, you’ll be in for a treat come midnight. Gotta do a moonlight dance in honor of Gobnorgernackep, god of hammers and patron deity of gob-kin.”
“I see…”
“Yes, you do. You haven’t looked away since laying eyes on me.”
Whoops. Razan broke eye contact, then suddenly found himself too bashful to look at Domitia again.
“So, this dance?” Razan took a step forward.
“Wait!” Domitia stopped him. “Uh, you might want to think twice about that. This dance has… fertility ritual elements. It’s said that any man who takes part in the summer moon dance will be primed to, ah, begat new offspring. Blessed with a full litter and everything.”
Razan took a step back. “Oh.”
“It’s supposedly super potent too. Overrides herbs. I mean, it’s just a traditional gob-folk belief. I doubt it’s true.”
“Yeah, probably not.” Razan took two more steps back.
“Just… might want to watch from the shore, lover boy.” Domitia swayed around again. “Told mom and Auntie that your family had holdings in Rivergale, and they seem sold on the whole tall-man boyfriend thing. Think they’re already planning the wedding. Might let you come back and do the dance for the honeymoon though.”
“I, uh, really?” Razan felt his cheeks turn red.
“That’s… that’s a joke, lover boy.” Domitia laughed, still dancing under the moonlight.
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