Nubians. He had heard about them only vaguely; the kingdom and most of its people were a mystery to the scout. He nodded as she spoke, rolling the word ‘cunnilingus’ on his tongue as he worked to remember the term. “Cunnilingus, cunniling—oh!” he glanced at her. What more could it mean than just the tasty treat? But as the linguist continued to explain the term, her education showing, he took it in like a sponge.<br/><br/>“For one purpose only? That’s<i>boring</i>,” he had replied. Then he repeated the name of the ceremony, Ngono Ya Mdomo, to lock it in his mind. “I guess everyone celebrates their birthday on the same day, too?” he asked with a grin. One day for fucking, and then a long dry spell. How could anyone concentrate with that much blockage going on?<br/><br/>He watched as her hair came unbound, a thick cascade of flame. As she worked her fingers through the strands he admired the length and thickness of it, wondering how long it took her to wash the mass she had been blessed with. And of course, the questions arose; was she a real redhead? If they were Nubians he would only have one day a year to know for sure. And if that day should come with her monthly issue…well. That would certainly be one reason to try to appease whatever gods the Nubians worshipped.<br/><br/>“It sounds like harvest time is the best time to be a tourist in Nubia then,” he observed. He stretched a long leg before him on the ground, thankful to no longer be in the saddle. “It was an interesting conversation. She was trying to get a reading for her map and was straddled…” he paused, “let’s just say, we were<i>very close</i>, and she mentioned that if we had been any closer, she’d have to explain that word to me.” He leaned back on his elbows and sighed. “But I like your explanation. It opens up more of the world, which is something I want to see—”<br/><br/>The wind picked up suddenly. Violently. Sand whirled about, stinging their eyes, and Will put up an arm to block it to no avail. “Get in!” he called to Sabina as he pushed her into her tent. THe crawled in after her, surmising that their combined weight in the tent might keep it from blowing away. He was nearly on top of her, the hard body beneath his tunic pressing her to the floor. One arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders as the walls of the tent shook in the maelstrom. The poles vibrated fiercely, the ropes came off their ties, and all around them it felt like the camp was flying to pieces.<br/><br/>Then the sounds came, despite the howl of the storm. BOOM...BOOM...BOOM…A steady beat that reverberated in their chests. Will turned his head towards the opening, his arm coming up off Sabina’s chest as he looked. “What, in the world…”<br/><br/>Then the singing started, in a language he’d never heard, and the voice was young, and sweet, and sad. Will turned to Sabine and asked if she was okay, then moved forward to peek out of the flap. The world was enshrouded in mist, yet the moon somehow lit the sky. A woman was crawling out, every evidence pointing to ‘witch’. The sight of her staff, and the lighting that emanated from it sent a chill down the scout’s spine.<br/><br/>Then…the Giant. Red’s scars were evident in the light, and the patterns and orderliness of them indicated that they were purposeful. He faced off with the woman, whose voice didn’t match her appearance, and then he spoke. His voice was like thunder, booming across the fields. When the Giant’s voice ended, the woman walked away, taking her BOOM stick with her. Will turned to Sabina. “Did you know he could talk?” he asked, still in wonderment over what they had seen.<br/><br/>A final glance back caught the sight of the Huge One casting bones. It seemed he could do more than fight.