Thinking of Home

JP between Lorem and LucianNepreen

Emboldened by Gonyaul’s hospitality, Tarmen found a seat near him and made himself comfortable.
He honestly wasn’t sure how to start, never before having an open conversation with Gonyaul before.
It was easier with Voah and Alexis, sharing near death experiences had a way of breaking those boundaries.
After a bit of mulling it over, he dove right in.

“Been meanin’ to ask of your home. Voah said you’re from Kru’ll… just not my Kru’ll. Can’t quite wrap my head around it.”

Gonyaul made ample room for the larger man that commanded air space. He nodded in understanding to his comment, but thought it best to find out more about what Tarmen meant when he said not my Kru’ll. In addition, he was baffled by the words wrap your head around it, that was an interesting saying. Strange, but visually interesting.

“I see. What is your Kru’ll like?” He asked for clarification, having no clue about any other societies in the land outside the safe haven of their treetop village.

The way the question was said threw him off. He had told plenty of stories of home and casually thrown his upbringing to any who asked with no issue before, but hearing it out of Gonyaul was… slightly unsettling.
It was the words of someone who truly didn’t know. Everyone one else at home already had their idea of Kru’ll, an image that he had often enforced, willingly or no.
Looking into space, he spoke of home without the usual acceptance or grandiose.

“Vicious. If the land or critters don’t get you, the people will. We are near as free as you can get back home, but we’re trapped in a cage of betrayal and mistrust.”

Saying it out loud felt a bit hollow, like a weight being removed and all you can feel is where it once was.

“It has its beauty. Like the hue of the world as the sun fights to get through the canopy. The small moments of wildlife at peace. The smell of the ocean spray mixin’ with the jungle steam at the coasts. It just gets forgotten under all the blood.”

Being so open, Tarmen’s fingers dug his claw from its pocket, thumbing it as his thoughts of home, both good and bad, once again made him question his current path. He had to shake himself from the pit, focusing back on Gonyaul to comment further with a tired voice.

“It seems impossible that such a place could create someone like you.”

Gonyaul listened and a confirmation of Tarmen’s testimony washed over his expression. Behind those beautiful dark doe eyes, Tarmen would see a gleam of knowing. That was the subtle evidence that Gonyaul knew of what he spoke, because he had seen it first hand; he had lived it too. Perhaps not the people part, but definitely the nature of Kru’ll.

Gonyaul smiled softly at the compliment he just received, at least he took it that way. He then paused to gather his thoughts and translate them into Helian. As always he used his hands in Vauxian sign language as he spoke out loud.

“We come from the same place. Where extremes of beauty and danger are many and hand in hand.” Gonyaul affirmed to Tarmen.

He paused again trying to figure out the best approach for explaining his next thoughts. Not everything translated perfectly into other languages.

“The flower that blooms in difficulty is rare. It may look fragile, but it is mighty. It has learned, by much discipline and effort, how to bring beauty despite how dark and danger all may be around to choke. It has learned that there are skills done in community together, like love … grace … humility … forgiveness … and more, that are stronger than evil and more impact than violence. The world may no understand, but we understand.” He had transitioned into talking about his people by the end of his comment.

Gonyaul pointed to the claw in his hands. “You bring from home?”

Gonyaul’s words stirred a sense of camaraderie in Tarmen. Despite his often goofy and happy-go-lucky attitude, he had seen the same Kru’ll Tarmen knew.
The way he spoke, he suddenly sounded like an elder. It was rather comforting and he quickly saw how Voah could be so smitten with him.
Being asked of his claw, he twisted in his hand, the item so much smaller after years of being his biggest comfort.

“My last and oldest trinket, the rest were lost in the caves under Aquilo, but I’ll be damned to lose this one.”

He then looked to Gonyaul, head at an angle as his brow scrunched in curiosity.

“So you’re tellin’ me there is a whole group like you hidin’ out there? I can imagine that’s why you like having company, but why leave your people?”

Gonyaul watched how Tarmen admired the claw in his hands. He made a mental note to ask him more about it sometime. It reminded him of the seed necklace that he gifted to Voah, his last remaining sample of home. Thinking it over he felt awful for losing the gift she gave him.

“Yes, we live high up in trees of the jungle. Safe from trouble and eyes. I miss my people and our way of life every day. Carry with me though with my life.” His voice trailed quieter as longing saturated it near the end.

“My kagim was in need, so helped lost man find his way home before the jungle could claim him. Each good deed lead to another …” He smiled at Tarmen having grown slightly home sick for a moment. “Till now here with all you.”

Gonyaul knew that was a streamlined and oversimplified version of how it all happened; however, it was the simplest way to cover an enormous amount of happenings.

“Why you leave you people?” He inquired.