Secret Samaritan

I returned to my home wagons full of ideas and some raw materials. I held several splintering lengths of wood, previously taken in a raid I was told. I hoped it would be enough to stretch and hold the netting in place - if Mistress Sev could find some netting. I looked first to the platform of Master's wagon, but didn't see anything at all. I would actually have been surprised to find something, as I knew it would probably take at least a little while to find what was needed.

There were no signs of life at all around the wagons. Not the movement of the sleen, or that pesky magpie, and if the vulo were making noise, it was swept along with the sounds that always seemed evident around the Harigga. Noise, sounds, reverberation, vibrations all were a constant in this way of life, along with the peculiar scents and the frequent movement. There were, in fact, only two things that would grab my attention - the lilting silence flavored by the warm breeze over the endless plains, and the voices of the drums. Both were languages I was still attempting to learn.

I had a sudden thought, actually more of panic, that something had happened to the vulo. Red flashed through my mind, trying to 'calm' them with a water lesson, and haplessly selecting one for dinner. If there were any more vulo accidents, someone's ass was going to pay, and that someone would be me. I knew Red didn't have any idea how to care for the vulo, and she didn't seem to have much respect for other's property. I wondered if that was due to a life of pampered wealth, or perhaps not really having anything to call her own. Like rain soaking into dark brown earth, hardly visible as the Central Fire reclaimed the sky, my thoughts disappeared and were replaced by the reconstructed slave wagon.

Several vulo strutted across the platform, safely prancing behind a woven net. I could see a bit inside, but shadows kept hiding my view. I did see at least one fluffy body happily burrowed inside a basket of all things, and I realized even worn holey baskets have a great purpose. The fowl seemed content, which was quite the contrast from earlier. I was relieved, happy, almost ecstatic - all over some ruffled feathers.

I just wondered who did all this. Master? Mistress Seveya? Who?