[15] She charged her magic inside her feather and threw it, hitting a lower spot, not the one she had thought. It was hard, even more with an unwieldy arm in a sling.
It hurt, less but her movements were clumsy. Climbing would have been more difficult, even crawling under the brushwood.
Tikkewha was right; she was more defenseless, maybe she had to reconsider her plane and stay inside that cave. The witch would have never left her cage if she had waited; nothing would have changed.
She sighed and recalled her feather. Maybe, for one, it would have been better to think about her next move and not act instinctively. Humans already caught her; that mistake was a reminder for her future.
A rustle gained her attention, and she threw her feather again. She screamed, desperate: she had hit the floor, not the edge of the lair as hoped. She had to train a lot before she could get a decent throwing. At least it was easier than tracking down the presence of her housemate.
It was wise for her health to stay there, but not for her mind. If she had done proper research, she would have found another shelter where she would have been alone and not with the company of a ghost.
She recalled her feather and went towards the entrance, hoping to find someone.
« Stop, please! »
She halted, recognizing the smooth voice of her savior. She was inside the cave. She had sneaked inside before she turned her head. She was quick, too much for her reflexes. She had guessed she was agile, but that exceeded her expectations.
She turned and saw a shadow in the right lair, the one next to her couch. It was dark and long, leading to an underground lake. She approached with curiosity, but while she was taking a step forward, the woman moved backwards.
« Tikkewha has seen you, it is stupid that you hide from me. » said.
« I did not want you to get hurt because of me but… I am not good with people. »
She got sick of those useless excuses and threw her feather, knowing that it would have not even get close to her. She just wanted to scare her and shut her up.
An azure bolt came out from the lair and burnt her weapon. She passed near her wing and could felt the magic power inside it. She had never seen anything so powerful and deadly. She was so shocked that she did not move; she just looked at her feather, lifted by that energy.
« Have you gone crazy?! »
She came back roughly to reality, hearing the scratchier side of that smooth and sensual voice.
Her lungs were filled again with fresh air, and she realized she was holding her breath.
« I save your life, I bring you to my hideout, I find you a healer, and you attack me when I am trying to have a conversation? »
She was closer, more than before. She turned and finally saw the aspect of that shadow.
She was one of the most beautiful Vastaya she had seen in her whole life. Her body was perfect. Every curve, every shape was like a piece of art, craving out from the stone. Her white dress, ornate with warm pink borders, enclosed it perfectly, helped by a pastel pink belt, and its neckline highlighted her breast.
Her long hair, of a dark night blue like her ears, was loosely braided, letting some strands out. From her yellow eyes, she could tell she was upset, and her thin pupils were helping her to portray that feeling.
But she directed most of her attention to her nine white fox tails, soft and agile. She was moving them with apparent calm, and they looked like snakes ready to attack her next prey.
Tikkewha was right; she had never seen a Vastaya like her. Neither from her father's legends, she had heard of her tribe, and sometimes they were centuries old.
And it was not even normal that a person like that lived in a cave. She had known Vasayas into their looks, but they had preferred to live inside their tribe and spend their days on the riverside, decorating their hair with flowers. She lived in a cave and she had to gain food by herself, fighting for her survival. And she was doing that with a white dress.
« Sorry… I did not want to hit you… » said approaching.
The woman opened her mouth, ready to object, but she shut it immediately. Rage disappeared from her eyes, now full of fear. Her tails tensed up and she moved back slowly. She realized that she had exposed herself.
She awakened, caught by her presence, and she stopped her in time.
« Wait! I have not bad intentions. I am not able to hit you in this condition! »
The Vastaya raised a hand, asking her not to come nearer.
« Stay away; do not come near. You have seen my powers, and I do not want to hurt you. »
It had to be a dream that could not be her first encounter with her savior. If she had feared her presence, she would have never cared so much. On the other hand, she had done everything for her, even calling a healer because she had not been able to fix her forearm. And Tikkewha had told her that she was apprehensive about her conditions.
She had to receive her warmly, not as a beast to tame.
« What is your problem? You bring me here, and then you treat me in this way? I was wrong trowing that feather, but you were driving me crazy with all you sneaky entrances! » shouted, finally expressing her thoughts.
The woman lowered her arm and looked at her, unable to give her an answer.
She rolled her eyes and did the first step. She did not have another option. She approached and stopped a few feet away. She raised her face, making eye contact.
« I am Xayah and get it through your head. I will stay here for a while, and I would like it if you remembered my name. » said.
Then she turned, directed to the corner where she was before.
[16] The first real day of cohabitation went reasonably good. The Vastaya and she did not exchange a single word, but at least she had shown herself, keeping herself at a discreet distance.
She did not care about that. It was more important she did not hide anymore: her nerves were safe. She had other priorities, like the recovery of her arm. The swelling went down, and the bruise became only a little purple spot. She could tell it was getting better fast, but she did not want to have false expectations.
She was already upset from the results of her training. She would have dared to say she was incapable of throwing her feathers with her left hand and all the holes in the wall testified it.
She recalled her weapon and threw it, failing again. She had hit an old hole, not the point she wanted.
She turned and she found the woman on the edge of the poll. She dipped her legs in the water as before. She did not move and was combing her hair with melancholy, repeatedly undoing the braids she had made. She had another dress. The white candor became vermilion red, more ignited between those grey walls.
She mindlessly moved as if water had hypnotized her and took away her will.
She ignored it and came back to her training, throwing her feather several times. She did not have time to think about her behavior. She had to think about a plan to go inside the temple.
She had to understand how the monks moved and acted. She could go to observe the place when she would have learned to hit the target with her good hand. If she had stayed in the forest, they would not have seen her, in case they would not have come out of the temple.
She remembered the silence around the temple, his unnatural quiet.
But before she had to stop to miss terribly her marks. She made another hole, two meters on the right form were she had aimed. She had never been so bad, neither when her father had trained her when she could have never imagined using her feathers as sharpened blades.
She recalled her weapon, upset by her results.
« Could you please stop for a while? »
The Vastaya's voice was like a scratched melody, a new sound in that environment but not pleasant. The miss was annoyed. She did not like her efforts while she was sitting around.
« If I am bothering you, you can go outside. Tikkewha recommended me to stay inside, and you seem to like long walks… »
She was interrupted by rushing water, followed by some quick steps.
She turned and saw the woman near the entrance, she was quite angry.
« You are right. Good luck with whatever you are doing. »
The Vastaya disappeared under the huge leaves, and she found herself looking at a hole. She was gone. Her bad tongue had taken away the company she had desired for so long.
Probably she was distraught and she would have never treated her kindly. Her first encounter was not the best, but that reaction could have worsened the situation.
The Vastaya began everything; she was sure. If she had asked more nicely to stop her training, she would have been calmer on her answer. She could not believe that, after an entire day of silence, those had been her first words. She had asked for that answer. She had no right to pout.
Even so, she felt something growing inside her a weird feeling, a little weight that grew every time she thought back at her words. She could try to deny, but she was feeling guilty for sure.
As far as she could tell herself she was right, she knew she could have spoken more kindly. Despite her unusual behavior, that woman did a lot for her. She had to thank her, not wipe the floor with her.
The damage was already done, overthinking was useless. It was better if she went on with her training and tried to delete those words, helped by the sounds of her hits.