Olidammara froze, his blood pulsing up against the cold steel compressing the veins in his neck. A cut in the neck was a really bad thing for mortals, as Olidammara took it.
"Who are you, and why are you here?" the voice hissed, cold as the steel dagger and with as much force as a too-big river. Boy did it sound mad! Olidammara knew he should tell the truth,but that hadn't gotten Ollie very far before. On the other hand, a lie would be totally against his mission of truth.
"I'm Ollie, and I am here because I am really cold and my fire wouldn't start. I'm really cold."
"So you blundered unannounced into an unknown camp?" the voice asked incredulously. "What are you -- an idiot?"
"Yes," Ollie verified. "A complete and total blithering idiot!"
Apparently he was convincing in blunt honesty, because the now warm-with-body-heat dagger left off threatening his fragile human neck. Olidammara stood stock still and watched his assailant walk into the warm orange firelight. She was about twenty-five, tallish, thin, and with long chalky lava-colored hair braided into two loose close-head braids that hung over her lean shoulders. She was very pretty but for the lean, hungry look of a coyote that hung on her features.
Sonora scooped a dark Bengal cat off of her bedroll and held it. The cat was Zebeka, the daughter of the best hunting cat Sonora had ever seen. Zebeka was much loved even though all she could catch was squirrels and strange human fingers.
Sonora sat on her bedroll and watched the strange and self-proclaimed idiot stand and look awkward. She felt no need to explain herself. If a strange man wanders into one's camp, it is more than likely he is on less pleasant business than idiotry.
The woman said nothing, but sat on the bedroll and watched him like he were a particularly plump mouse. She did not explain her actions. Why had he said he was an idiot? He wasn't – just untrained.
"Uh... could I share your fire?"
The woman nodded her ascent and relaxed a little. Olidammara felt he had passed some sort of test, as she now even smiled. The lines on her young face changed to reflect that despite her sad, worldly eyes, the smile was at least well-used.
Olidammara felt a spasm of a hole in his belly as a smell more delicious than a well-laid trick, a well-deserved feast, or laughter wafted across his nose. Blatant longing announced itself with a loud grumble.
The woman laughed, the predatory look melting like wax off of her. "Want some squirrel and potato stew? It's not bad," she offered, gesturing at the pot suspended over the fire. "I am Sonora."
Sonora took the first watch. Olidammara fell into a deep sleep, upon which Garl Glittergold intruded rudely. The small, pointed gnome god chuckled a he polished a gem.
"Olidammara, you got yourself a fine one! What luck you have." Before Olidammara could ask what he meant, Glittergold had moved on. The word for such creachure comes from his name – they are garrulous. "Today I found the prettiest hunk of gold, and I thought of you, Oli, because what you are doing for your followers is just golden. Isn't that great? The gnomes wanted me to know that fire is really cool – so I went out and made myself some. It's right here in this diamond, still warm and everything." Glittergold exited chuckling, elated at his joke.
Olidammara awoke in the light of day and yawned. He tried to stretch, but sore tissues and muscles stopped him short. He groaned explosively.
"Up before noon Sleepyhead?" Sonora teased from where she was skinning one of the now-lazing cat's catches. "Wanna start a fire since all the hard work is done?"
"Uh... I'll try." Olidammara eased himself out of the bush and limped over to the ashes of last night's fire. He took the flint and steel and rubbed them together for a few minutes before the soft laughter from the squirrel stopped him.
"What?" Olidammara asked, crossly.
"You don't even know how to build a fire, do you?" Sonora chortled. "Here," she said, crouching by him and taking the flint and steel. She clicked them together by some dry grass and let the sparks fall into the little nest. Gently, she blew into the tiny fire and nurtured it into health.
Olidammara had leaned close to watch, and he fell on the newborn fire when Sonora adjusted herself next to him. "OOMPF!" he exclaimed, as he fell in the dirt and burned his arm. "You people are so fragile! How do you even live as long as you do?" he muttered.
"What was that?" Sonora asked merrily.
"Oh, nothing, just reiterating how beautiful it must have been when the first man built the first fire."
"Do you feel like Man learning to make Fire?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." Olidammara smiled, and Sonora smiled back.