Once, when I was much younger, my clan rested near a human village. We were told not to venture too close, and to always be within earshot of the camp. We, of course, nodded and went about our duties, but not before shooting glances at each other that promised mischief.
When the star shone overhead, we snuck from our beds and met on the outskirts of the village. We promised to remain close, and attempt to disrupt the shemlens as little as possible. We tumbled down the hills and moved for the lamplight in their homes like moths.
The homes were made of wood and stood much taller than us. Rows of plants were fenced in like animals. The buildings were dark and nothing moved within them. We took advantage of the slumbering humans to explore.
We crept past the horses' prisons. They, too, were asleep. We expected them to be frail and underfed, for the stories of how poorly the shemlen treated their animals had been told to us for years. These horses, however, were monstrous and plump, and slept in dry shelter. It was strange to us both to see.
As the moon drifted higher in the sky, we were spotted. Not by a ravenous behemoth of a blood-thirsty shemlen, but by an elderly man with the strangest hair on his chin. In our travels, we stumbled into a small building full of strange tools. Being young and not yet grown into ourselves, we tripped over one of the objects and sent it crashing to the ground. We fled, but the owner of the toppled spades found us.
We backed into the building in fear, clutching each other. He was much larger than the biggest men in our clan. His hair was dark with splashes of moonlight grey. He knelt to one knee to meet our eyes.
"Woah, there! I won't hurt you," he exclaimed, holding up his hands to show his lack of a weapon. We trembled at his size. We feared he would retaliate, strike us down as his ancestors did to ours. He sighed a heavy breath, and fell back to his rear.
"My name is Thomas," he said quietly. We were shocked by his vulnerability before us. What kind of savage would sit before two things he aimed to kill? We watched in horror as he lulled us into false security.
"This, uh… is my shed that you raided," he said with a smirk, resting his elbow on his bent knee. We looked back into mess we made, and felt sorry for this shemlen's things.
"We're not supposed to talk to shemlen," Tamlen spat courageously. The man chuckled.
"You just did. Do you have names?" he asked, and I nodded. Tamlen smacked my arm. I knew it may be dangerous, but this human was showing us kindness.
"I am Banalhan," I squeaked. He nodded, and held out his hand. It could easily wrap around my head. I did not shrink back, but looked to him in confusion.
"When humans are introduced to each other, they exchange handshakes," he explained, and I looked to Tamlen. His eyes warned me to stay away, but I placed my tiny hand inside of his. He engulfed it with his fist and gently shook our arms ups and down. I smiled.
"Strange," Tamlen whispered beside me. The human stood, and stretched his back. He seemed very old to our child's eyes.
"I take it your with the clan that's moved in?" he asked, his voice gruff. I nodded. "Wait here. I'll get a lantern and take you back."
"We can find our way," Tamlen haughtily exclaimed. The human raised a bushy eyebrow.
"Can you? Tell me which way it is," he smiled under his odd facial hair. I knew I hadn't an idea where we were inside the village. Tamlen attempted, but his unsure tone affirmed the human's actions.
He fetched a lantern and walked us back to the hill. He helped us up it, and Tamlen even accepted his aid. When the aravels came into view, he knelt down to his knee again. My friend ran off, back to his tent, to avoid any further help from the shemlen. I stayed.
"You shouldn't come back to the village. My… clansmates aren't as tolerable as I am. I would not want you to fall to harm," he warned, and I nodded. He smiled, and pulled something from his breast pocket. "My daughter saw you from the window. She wanted you to have this. Perhaps you'll meet someday," he said, and placed a small doll in my hands. It was shaped like a bear with large buttons for eyes. I hugged it to my chest.
"Thank you," I muttered, and turned when Tamlen hissed my name. I waved to the shemlen, and he stood and descended the hill.
I learned that day that people are people. Grouping stereotypes onto a person is not how you progress.