Work, Taryn came to realize, was probably too strong a word for it. By her estimate, in the time she had been among the people, the average work week was, maybe, twenty hours. The work, which is to say that which she would describe as a chore, was spread among the tribe and highly socialized. Men and women, adults and children, they all shared in the responsibility of sustaining themselves and their families evenly. Master Lo had instructed her in the ways of social development, but seeing it in action, being a part of this egalitarian, foraging group of early pastoralism, she realized that his descriptions were nothing like the real thing. The People were horticulturalists as well, establishing small gardens in their semi-permanant camps from portable and potable stocks which they maintained, site to site.
Old Eyes had been happy to share his knowledge with Taryn and she took it in like an eager, young anthropologist. He was a fount of oral histories, sharing tales and parables with her. She had also come to know most of the tribe intimately.
Of particular interest to her was a man called Two Souls, their tribes Shaman. He was a sort of priest who was half medicine man, a healer of some description. She could tell that the force was strong with him and that he used it, largely unknowingly, to protect his band. He would induce trance like states by consuming pastes of his own concoction, ground up bits of local flora and though he had tried to encourage her to partake, she hadn't the stomache for it and declined.
Spanner seemed to be integrating well, but it was obvious his ambition was to get home, wherever that might have been, and collect his money. He had not spoken of the issue since their outburst, but Taryn felt sure that he still planned for her to come along. There was little chance he could make her go against her wishes, she being a Jedi, but she didn't want to take a chance... or have to hurt him.
But, she was learning so much.
They had taught her to ride the dunnak, how to feel its mind and those who rode the same mount. Though never far, always within site of the tribes perimeter wall.
It was on one of these rides that she found out why. It was the rut. Old Eyes had mentioned the rut once, cautioning that it was the reason they should not attempt travel, but he had said no more, nor had she pressed him for it. Beholding it, this event they called 'the rut' she understood why.
At first, it began as a low rumble. The ground shook with the low bass tremble of an earthquake. Taryn had drawn her mount to a standstill and, looking at the tall grass below her mount, she could see it trembling, vibrating. The terrible sound grew with increasing intensity. The force was calm and undisturbed, however; and she felt no alarm. Not until, that is, she heard the screaming. The entire tribe was there, inside the perimeter fence, shouting at her and then, an instant later, a wave of panic shot through her from her dunnak. It began pacing, as if ready to bolt but she calmed it, pressing her desire against it through the force. By now, the horizon was growing dark. Something, the size of the entire grassy horizon, was coming.
She turned her mount, urging it back toward the camp. It needed little prodding, far smarter then she at present, the animal knew exactly what was coming and where to go. Which was, obviously, away.
The dunnak ran with incredible speed, faster then she had seen one move. She was fortunate to have been so close to camp and had little fear of being outpaced and indeed she was well within sight of the perimeter posts, the blue energy wave crackling between them, when her mount went down.
Something had struck the animal causing it to go limp suddenly. Taryn hardly had time to react, throwing her arms in front of her as the ground came surging forward. She rolled, landing hard but making good of it and came up facing her downed dunnak. It wasn't the rut, she was sure as it was stll a distance off, and what she saw amazed her even more. The ground was alive with fauna. A wave of animals, small furry things, long slithering things, things of all description, were stampeding ahead of the rut. Something had obviously struck her mount, a creature capable of striking down an animal the size of her dunnak. It did not take long for her to see; she was already in harms way.
Gathering herself, Taryn dipped into her force reserves and sprinted forward. Her dunnak was dead, and if it wasn't there was little she could hope to do for it and so, she ran. The People, urging her to run faster, stood ready to drop the barrier just long enough for her to cross. Taryn felt herself checking for her lightsaber, just in case she would need to defend herself.
There was no need as she crossed into the camp without further incident, breathing hard.
Old Eyes came to her, Spanner a foot behind.
"Look," said the elder, turning her back towards the rut from behind the safety of the fence.
A black and brown mottled shadow blocked the grasslands, it swirled half a dozen meters high, almost as high as the fences. Its mass was indistinguisable, impossible to make tell one part of it from another. It flowed erratically, constantly shifting.
When it was upon them it broke, pushing to the very edge of the perimeter fence which hissed and sparked when they met, then flowing seemlessly around it, consuming everything outside of the village in its all encompasing bleakness.
Taryn peered, looking hard beyond the flashes of blue bright electricty, trying to get some sense of this mass, of its composition. She saw bits that seemed like scales, or insectoid chitten, and then she would see a furry shape flash past, teeth and spines protruding. The rut was a maddening array of chaos, a blender churning up the landscape. It was impossibly loud and so she did not bother to ask questions.
And it went on for what seemed like an eternity before, at very long last, abating abruptly. All at once the tail end of the rut washed past them, rumbling and dwindling on the horizon. When it had passed, nothing was left.
The grasslands had been scraped clean of vegitation, or everything but the soil and in its place was a seemingly endless field of destruction and, when Taryn peered closely, what appeared to be about a foot of, what could only be described as compost, heribivorious feces.
She pinched her nose, but there was no odor.
After a period of comparitive silence, the tribe started about the business of breaking camp.
Taryn, stunned, just stood watching.
Old Eyes came to her, he said, "Now we move on, to green pastures. Soon the rains will come and this will all turn to mud, a sea of it."
"Where?" Taryn begged.
"You will see." He smiled that knowing smile. "Nothing ends, child. This is the circle of life. Come, help us prepare. We have a great distance ahead of us."
She nodded in understanding. Spanner had wanted to move on, yet Old Eyes knew that it would soon be time to move regardless of his desires and so had almost baited them to stay. The argument was pointless. Life here, it seemed, moved according to its own plan.
Taryn regarded Old Eyes.
He is a clever old man, she thought. Maybe too clever by half.
She laughed inwardly before joining in the work.
Old Eyes had been happy to share his knowledge with Taryn and she took it in like an eager, young anthropologist. He was a fount of oral histories, sharing tales and parables with her. She had also come to know most of the tribe intimately.
Of particular interest to her was a man called Two Souls, their tribes Shaman. He was a sort of priest who was half medicine man, a healer of some description. She could tell that the force was strong with him and that he used it, largely unknowingly, to protect his band. He would induce trance like states by consuming pastes of his own concoction, ground up bits of local flora and though he had tried to encourage her to partake, she hadn't the stomache for it and declined.
Spanner seemed to be integrating well, but it was obvious his ambition was to get home, wherever that might have been, and collect his money. He had not spoken of the issue since their outburst, but Taryn felt sure that he still planned for her to come along. There was little chance he could make her go against her wishes, she being a Jedi, but she didn't want to take a chance... or have to hurt him.
But, she was learning so much.
They had taught her to ride the dunnak, how to feel its mind and those who rode the same mount. Though never far, always within site of the tribes perimeter wall.
It was on one of these rides that she found out why. It was the rut. Old Eyes had mentioned the rut once, cautioning that it was the reason they should not attempt travel, but he had said no more, nor had she pressed him for it. Beholding it, this event they called 'the rut' she understood why.
At first, it began as a low rumble. The ground shook with the low bass tremble of an earthquake. Taryn had drawn her mount to a standstill and, looking at the tall grass below her mount, she could see it trembling, vibrating. The terrible sound grew with increasing intensity. The force was calm and undisturbed, however; and she felt no alarm. Not until, that is, she heard the screaming. The entire tribe was there, inside the perimeter fence, shouting at her and then, an instant later, a wave of panic shot through her from her dunnak. It began pacing, as if ready to bolt but she calmed it, pressing her desire against it through the force. By now, the horizon was growing dark. Something, the size of the entire grassy horizon, was coming.
She turned her mount, urging it back toward the camp. It needed little prodding, far smarter then she at present, the animal knew exactly what was coming and where to go. Which was, obviously, away.
The dunnak ran with incredible speed, faster then she had seen one move. She was fortunate to have been so close to camp and had little fear of being outpaced and indeed she was well within sight of the perimeter posts, the blue energy wave crackling between them, when her mount went down.
Something had struck the animal causing it to go limp suddenly. Taryn hardly had time to react, throwing her arms in front of her as the ground came surging forward. She rolled, landing hard but making good of it and came up facing her downed dunnak. It wasn't the rut, she was sure as it was stll a distance off, and what she saw amazed her even more. The ground was alive with fauna. A wave of animals, small furry things, long slithering things, things of all description, were stampeding ahead of the rut. Something had obviously struck her mount, a creature capable of striking down an animal the size of her dunnak. It did not take long for her to see; she was already in harms way.
Gathering herself, Taryn dipped into her force reserves and sprinted forward. Her dunnak was dead, and if it wasn't there was little she could hope to do for it and so, she ran. The People, urging her to run faster, stood ready to drop the barrier just long enough for her to cross. Taryn felt herself checking for her lightsaber, just in case she would need to defend herself.
There was no need as she crossed into the camp without further incident, breathing hard.
Old Eyes came to her, Spanner a foot behind.
"Look," said the elder, turning her back towards the rut from behind the safety of the fence.
A black and brown mottled shadow blocked the grasslands, it swirled half a dozen meters high, almost as high as the fences. Its mass was indistinguisable, impossible to make tell one part of it from another. It flowed erratically, constantly shifting.
When it was upon them it broke, pushing to the very edge of the perimeter fence which hissed and sparked when they met, then flowing seemlessly around it, consuming everything outside of the village in its all encompasing bleakness.
Taryn peered, looking hard beyond the flashes of blue bright electricty, trying to get some sense of this mass, of its composition. She saw bits that seemed like scales, or insectoid chitten, and then she would see a furry shape flash past, teeth and spines protruding. The rut was a maddening array of chaos, a blender churning up the landscape. It was impossibly loud and so she did not bother to ask questions.
And it went on for what seemed like an eternity before, at very long last, abating abruptly. All at once the tail end of the rut washed past them, rumbling and dwindling on the horizon. When it had passed, nothing was left.
The grasslands had been scraped clean of vegitation, or everything but the soil and in its place was a seemingly endless field of destruction and, when Taryn peered closely, what appeared to be about a foot of, what could only be described as compost, heribivorious feces.
She pinched her nose, but there was no odor.
After a period of comparitive silence, the tribe started about the business of breaking camp.
Taryn, stunned, just stood watching.
Old Eyes came to her, he said, "Now we move on, to green pastures. Soon the rains will come and this will all turn to mud, a sea of it."
"Where?" Taryn begged.
"You will see." He smiled that knowing smile. "Nothing ends, child. This is the circle of life. Come, help us prepare. We have a great distance ahead of us."
She nodded in understanding. Spanner had wanted to move on, yet Old Eyes knew that it would soon be time to move regardless of his desires and so had almost baited them to stay. The argument was pointless. Life here, it seemed, moved according to its own plan.
Taryn regarded Old Eyes.
He is a clever old man, she thought. Maybe too clever by half.
She laughed inwardly before joining in the work.