Reprieve

[Tarkah]

   Reprieve

The sun was setting on another day in Zuldazar, coloring the mists and low clouds in blazing ruddy hues and striking reflections from the sides of the great pyramid that made the enormous structure appear as if it was glowing with a bright inner light.

Down among the various stalls, huts and tents that formed the shanty town that sprawled on the lowest terrace of the city the traders and crafters were closing up shop and preparing to head back to their homes and enjoy an evening’s rest. Or, well… ‘Shanty town’ to the eyes of the native zandalari at least.
To Atar’ka, the heavy wooden beams that made up the frames of the structures here and the thick, rich cloth that draped them was far removed from what she would consider squalid. She was inside one such storage tent, putting materials and tools back in their correct places to await the next day when they would be needed, and ancestors but she had been in houses that felt more flimsy. As she closed the lid on the now full storage chest she stretched her back and rolled her neck to try and relax them a little before pushing the heavy flap to the side and stepping outside to find somewhere to sit and quietly watch the city.

She still felt strange being here, out of place, but she supposed that the Horde’s alliance with the people of this city as well as the recent upheaval of the city's invasion had lowered many barriers and allowed the presence of people like her outside enclosed areas. Some of the zandalari had even been happy to accept her as an extra pair of hands and allowed her to watch and learn from them. To them, she was probably just another Horde face who had showed up on their streets. She didn’t see a point in contradicting them. For allowing her this chance, she had to give the Horde at least some credit, though she kept well clear of any soldiers she saw moving around the city.


Looking around from the stairs leading to the higher tiers where she’d found herself a seat, she could see across the bridges towards the Zocalo where she assumed the Red Blades were still camped, though she was too far away to see any figures. Or perhaps they had moved out again? She would have to find out at some point. If it meant keeping her distance to the war however, she was happy enough to leave it be for a while longer.
Staring out into the middle distance as she felt her thoughts drift, she snuck her hand into her satchel to retrieve a stone the size of her palm which she idly started to flip end over end.
The stone was mostly smooth, with no stains or cuts on it other than a large three-pointed mark carved into it which had been filled in with red. A well-kept item to be sure, and clearly designed with a purpose in mind, but more so from being tucked away safe and unused than from being used carefully.
If they had indeed left already she could ask them and find out. She could… But not yet.
Pushing the stone and the thoughts back in her satchel again, she scanned the surrounding terrace in an effort to try and spot her companion instead.

Rosha was somewhere nearby, she assumed, either busy with worrying at whatever her latest foray into the surrounding tents and stalls had landed the inquisitive wolf with or she was chasing after the small lizards that seemed to infest the entire city, stealing whatever they could fit in their tiny jaws. The other day, she could have sworn she saw some of them run around with items looking uncannily like weapons held up between them…

She had become as used to the wolf’s absence these days as she was to her company, which had been a strange realisation when it hit her. She hadn’t realised how used she had gotten to Rosha sticking to her like a shadow, at times to a point where she was grateful to have out-of-reach spots to retreat to, and now the lack of a presence at her knee could feel oddly lonely at times. She didn’t mind though, as it would have been impossible to get through any of the work she was currently doing with her companion bumping into her or jumping at loud noises as she once would have. She was glad to see that their work together had payed of, and that Rosha was cured of her stunted confidence and leaping at the chance to explore and sate her curiosity on her own. Perhaps the many hours of saddle and riding training had played their part in the changes as well. Trust had come easily once they both stopped keeping such close tabs on each other, and counted on the other to take care of themself.

Spotting a flash of gray fur on the far side of the terrace, she decided her rest was up and got back on her feet. As she started to head over in that direction she couldn’t help but wonder just what she would find her companion’s catch of the day to be, and if she would have to deal with any trouble because of it. She would rather they could head out on the roads outside the city than exchange glares and grudgingly spend her evening mending or replacing something for a furious owner.