[17] The water was warm and was slowly refreshing her limbs. The rivers were colder and less comfortable; her skin was used to worst conditions. That was a pleasant bath, perfect for her wounded forearm.
She had to hang it tided on her neck without the splints, using only the fabric. In that way, she would have never wetted them. She had to be very careful, and warmer water would have helped her on her movements.
She walked to the middle of the pool. When she was sure she could still touch the bottom, she plunged. When she resurfaced, she felt more light and calm, caressed by the delicate crystalline water. She moved her and her long furry ears, throwing away the biggest drops. After she would have done the same with her feathers when she would have had time to open her wing.
She took a deep breath and plunged again, letting her face outside the water. She felt free; no more dust was covering her. She hated it, mostly between her feathers, and only wanted to take them away. It was rough and heavy, just a bother.
She was careful with her wing; she tried to clean it as much as possible, so it would always have been perfect and sharp. But with her broken forearm is was more difficult, she was able only to clean the bottom of her wings. Now that it was plunged into the water, she felt relieved.
She tried to sit near the border, where the water was lower, and she enjoyed that moment of peace.
At first, she had thought to use the small internal lake of the cave, but she did not know its depth. She would have bathed there later before she would have left for the temple.
The leaves near the entrance moved; her temporary boarder was back.
She turned embarrassed. She did not want to make eye contact; the Vastaya could see her sense of guilt printed on her face.
She stared at the water until the woman disappeared inside the lair where they slept. She raised her face and pretended the Vastaya never came inside.
She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to comb out the biggest knots. It was even harder and more annoying with one hand. As much as she loved to take care of her wing, she could not say the same about them. Since she was little, she was used to cutting them with the arrival of the warm season; she had thought they were just a bother. But one day, a boy had told her she could be prettier with longer hair. She had fallen for it has an idiot. When she had forgotten about that little crush, she had found herself with untamable hair, and she became attached to it. Every time she had tried to cut them, she had felt upset, as she was going to hurt an old friend. She had given up and had let them grow until her shoulders. But unfortunately, knots usually found a home there.
The Vastaya came near and laid a bowl full of berries.
She thanked her with a murmur, trying not to look at her face. Guilt raised inside her, and she could not stop it. Even if the woman was angry, she had still collected some food, without thinking about her inappropriate comment.
She combed out her hair again, with more anger. She felt stupid and proud at the same time. She needed to vent someway.
When she found another knot, she violently slapped the water, splashing it on the food. An old friend or not, at that moment she just wanted to cut them all.
« Do you need a hand? »
She was surprised to hear that voice, but not as the words. They were a peace offer. She would have been even more stupid if she did not accept them. She swallowed her pride and nodded.
A hand took softly one of her strands, and another started to comb it carefully. She did not realize the Vastaya was taking away her knots; her touch was very light. She felt pain only when the woman found a big one, difficult to comb.
« Sorry, but I think that it is better if you sit on the edge. There are too many knots, and it isn't very easy for me to comb them out in this position. » said the woman.
She decided to accept the suggestion, so she could also free her wing form the weight of the water.
She came out of the pool, and when she found the right place, she opened it and shook her feathers with a quick rustle. When they were in order, she went to collect her clothes, but a dress landed on her, covering her sight.
« Wear that one. Yours needs to be cleaned. »
She took the robe surprised. The Vastaya did not just collect some food. She also found her a new dress.
The woman was showing her a smile, not entirely covered by her hand. She had found something funny in her, maybe the way she had dried her feathers. Other sharp words came up to her mouth, but the soft dress remembered her what the woman had just done for her.
She took courage and said those words.
« I am sorry before I have spoken without thinking. »
She did not wait for her reply. She turned and tried to wear the robe. She felt ashamed; she gave up her strict stances. But she also felt more relieved, free from her guilt.
She did not know how much time she spent, but in the end, she was able to wear that tight and sleeveless dress. She did not know that material; it was too crafted and soft. Vastayas did not make such refined clothes, and they just needed them to be practical for hunting.
Humans had made them. It was not hard to understand. Only their manufactures used that cerulean shade and those drawings, similar to small waves. Probably the woman had stolen that from a village, like the ones she wore.
She was not annoyed. The Vastaya lived alone, and it would have been hard for her to make some clothes on her own. And it was better that she stole them from humans than from some Vastayan tribes.
She tried to close the collar, but the small buttons, her broken forearm and her wing made the achievement impossible. She gave up and turned.
« I need some help also with this. » said, pointing at her neck.
« If you sit down here, we will solve everything. » replied the woman, gracefully kneeling.
Her fluffy tales followed her slowly, reaching the ground.
She was still thinking about the woman's origin tribe. It was impossible not to know or forget such creatures. She wanted to ask her, but thinking about the Vastaya's lonely life stopped her. She knew what meant not to have a place to return or a family. She did not want to open such wounds again. They were painful, and it was not pleasant to remember them.
She sat on the edge of the pool and crossed her legs, careful not to hurt herself with her talons. The woman closed her collar and started again to comb her hair.
They did not say a single word, and they stayed in silence inside the cave.
It was something usual, but this time she felt no tense. That place was calm, not covered by an unpleasant silence. That feeling was comfortable, and the soft touch of the woman was relaxing her. « I... I am not good with people. » said the Vastaya, partially breaking that mood.
She stopped to smooth the lower part of her feathers, still wet, and she listened to her.
« Every time that I have tried, it has not ended well. I do not want to involve you with my life... »
« Apology accepted. » replied, realizing what the woman wanted to tell her with those words.
She heard her sighing, relieved before she felt her soft touch on her cheeks.
« Nor try not to move your head. »
She did not understand that request, and when the women grabbed her hair, she turned, trying to understand what she was doing. Her head was immediately turned, and she saw the wall of the cave again, unable to object.
She puffed and let the woman do her things. She did not want to break their truce for something so stupid.
She felt her hair tightening behind her head. The Vastaya was styling them, as she was doing with her hair before.
When she finished, she put down a braid on her left shoulder. It was very thin, and she could not believe that it was holding her wild hair. She had tightened them a lot; her head was still tingling.
« In this way, they will not be a bother when you trow your feathers. And you also look prettier. » said the Vastaya, making her see her reflection on the water.
The girl she saw did not look like her. She just recognized the pomace hair, the long and straight ears, white on the top, and her yellow eyes full of surprise.
The changes were objectively small; she just had a braid that tamed her wild hair, still free on her bangs, and wore a different dress. Even so, she thought she was pretty for once.
The hairstyle let her face clear, highlighting its round and delicate features along with her eyes. And the dress, even it was made by humans, was perfect and gave her a feminine touch. Her young body looked more graceful and slim.
Her wing, of an intense purple and magenta, leaned gently on her shoulder. That instrument of death gave her more elegance, thanks to his soft feathering.
That Vastaya was able to hide the wild girl that loved to run on the trees and fight, revealing a young woman.
« I am going to look for some meaty food. We can not only eat berries. »
There was a hint of sadness in the Vastaya's eyes when she stood up and walked away.
She recognized that expression. The woman had it that morning before they had argued. The mood broke, the harmony they had created vanished.
She did not answer and let her go away. She did not want to upset her again, not at that moment, when she had finally found some company.