From the city, the approaching caravan might have looked like some massive herd of polic for all the dust poured into the air, but instead of the worry that might have been drawn from such a large gathering of the aggressive animals, there was anticipation and excitement as the gates were pulled open and the road to the fairground cleared of all obstructions. City guards stood at attention at every cross road and forbid anyone foolish enough to forget what time of year it was from straying into the main avenue. The arrival of the Hadju was usually a celebrated time. Where as before only a few easterners dared cross the boarder to do trade with their more domestic neighbors, now entire tribes would make the trek to reach this city or that, the possibility of profit, friendship and community a strong draw to many.<br/><br/>Nowhere was this more apparent than when Wheat-Tongue's tribe arrived at the gate of their closest ally's home. The three years of war with the northerners had changed many, many things. Where there had only been suspicion between the two groups before, now there were friendships grown through collective hardships, there were romances born of understanding, and businesses crafted of mutual cooperation. Merchants waited eagerly for their chance at the Hadju pelts and spices, friends waited eagerly to talk to their eastern or western counterparts, to show how their families had grown and to drink merrily and remember the fallen from those long years of war, and lovers waited eagerly to spend a few nights bridging the cultural gap between nomad and citizen. There was a festive feeling in the air, and as Whisper lead his people through the gate, a cheer erupted from crowds gathering to welcome the easterners into their home. The fairgrounds, usually home to tourneys or challenges during the rest of the year, was cleaned and groomed for the occupation of the Hadju.<br/><br/>Whisper admittedly was not in a festive mood, even with the weight of the Al-gui pelt across his back, he was having a hard time forcing the smile to his lips. Still, he had, if not found memories of this place, fond memories of it's people, and the atmosphere was infectious enough that he found himself waving to the crowds. After all, he was a war hero here, had earned his name fighting with these people. By the time the nomads had rounded the last street and were on their way to the fairground, Whisper was smiling and waving, tossing saucy winks to the western women and not caring a bit when the men on either side of them scowled. The fairground were green and pleasant, cleared of their usual trash and storage and laid bare like a blanket on a wedding bed. Whisper spent the better part of the day helping to organize the camp and making sure peace reigned supreme in this hectic time.<br/><br/>Most of the adults left immediately after staking claims to a spot for their yurts, in Hadju society, it was usually the duty of the children to erect the sleeping quarters while the adults prepared food or went hunting. Whisper was not spared the task of placing his own sleeping place, but instead of the large hide huts his people favored, Whisper preferred a simple piece of cloth hung between two trees and a bit of oil cloth above that to keep out the rain. While the Easterners had no name for it, he had heard Westerners call it a hammock. That task done, Whisper swept the camp to make sure everyone's needs were being met, helped a few of the younger children get their families home supported, found replacements for anything that had been damaged in the trip, and in general saw to the needs of his people. This was usually Wheat-Tongue's task, but with his father gone, Whisper took it upon himself to see the camp fully prepared before setting off. In truth, his father would likely arrive soon, and Whisper was torn between demanding an explanation, bargaining, or flat out refusing to go through with such a ludicrous idea as marriage.<br/><br/>"Yodiki-Gotdu-Garrama!" (Whisper of the Wind!) Wheat-tongue called out when he spotted his son dragging on a rope while a pair of younger children hauled a tarp into place.<br/><br/>"Shodi-Tal!" (Wheat Tongue!) Whisper replied and glanced up from his work. He waited until the two children had secured the tarp before turning to embrace his father with a big bear hug, the traditional greeting amoung Hadju.<br/><br/>"I hear you had quite the successful hunt on the way here." Whisper nodded and smiled. "It's a truly beautiful beast father."<br/><br/>"Indeed, if what your brothers say is true, then it will make a most fitting gift for your wife!" Whisper only somewhat caught the fact that his brothers had spoken a good word about him, most of the conversation collided with complete and utter incomprehensibility.<br/><br/>"G-Gift?! Father I spent two days stalking the Ali-Gui!"<br/><br/>"Indeed! What a dedicated husband you will make!"<br/><br/>Whisper opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to work out the words to counter his father's good nature. Wheat Tongue was rather good at leaving him speechless. "I... I cannot marry a Western woman!" Whisper finally erupted and stood glaring.<br/><br/>"Nonsense, they work just the same way our women do! With the success you have with our women, surely you'll figure it out with her."<br/><br/>"I, No! This is the most ridiculous scheme you've concocted yet! What good would a soft western woman do me?!" His confusion and disbelief had given way to anger, which made Wheat Tongue frown.<br/><br/>Whisper did not see the hand move until he felt it against his cheek, Wheat Tongue might have been old, but he was still just as capable as he had been in his youth. Whisper stumbled and stood, his hand cupping the red mark rising on his face. "Don't be childish boy!" Wheat Tongue roared, and the children Whisper had been helping fled from their chief's anger. "This is not about you, or your pride! This is about our people! This union will mean the uniting of the Westerners and the Hadju! You have always reveled in frustrating the traditionalists! Well here's you greatest revel yet!"<br/><br/>Whisper stood gawking with his mouth open, but in the face of his father's wrath, he couldn't find the words to protest. Wheat tongue always fought with words, and he always won by them. Had this been about hunting, or about hiding, Whisper would have been the victor, but he had been foolish enough to challenge his father at his own game. "Now, go get your pelt and come with me, I'm sure your new bride would prefer the blood cleaned from it before you drape it across her shoulders!"<br/><br/>********<br/><br/>Whisper found himself in a place that made his stomach crawl, a tailor's dedicated to the highest level of fashion this side of the kingdom. The man who stood before him was legendary for his skills with a needle and thread, a wizard of cloth, and perhaps the most flamboyant dandy Whisper had ever laid eyes on. Every move the man made was first to show the cut of his clothing, and second for actual locomotion. He wore powder and sky blues in such shades that made Whisper wonder if, at any moment, a cloud would float across his chest. His mustache was oiled out to points that stuck out so far from his head, Whisper wondered if he had to turn his head sideways to fit through the narrow doorway of his shop.<br/><br/>"Good evening gentlemen!" Whisper cringed, " Welcome to my humble little shop! What may I do for such a prestigious pair as the chief of the Hadju and his legendary son?!" Wheat Tongue was far from being the only chief of the Hadju, but he let this pass without comment.<br/><br/>Wheat tongue bowed to the exact angle necessary when greeting a man of this stature and stomped down on Whisper's foot when he did not do the same. Whisper fumbled a bow and straightened, tossing his father a dirty look as he said in perfect westerner. "Ah, good evening Master Demui're! We have need of a gift, an outfit fit for our rugged way of life, and yet comfortable and stylish, a blending of our societies if you will, cut for a young woman about my esteemed son's age."<br/><br/>Demui're smiled and nodded. "But of course! Has such a woman caught the eyes of the legendary Whisper?"<br/><br/>Whisper balked, and Wheat Tongue stomped on his foot again. "Erh, Yes, yes one has. A western woman, to be my partner in life." Whisper said in somewhat halting Westerner. He had spent enough time among these people to speak their language, but was at a loss as to express such emotions as Master Demui're did with even a single syllable.<br/><br/>This was really happening, he was to marry Gatekeeper's daughter. He was to marry a Westerner. A cold drop of sweat ran down his spine. Perhaps he had better request some time with his father to learn these people's way of life.<br/><br/>"I see! Such a lucky Woman no doubt needs the comforts of home, but the rigidity of something more... durable?" Demui're rubbed his chin for a moment, then moved to one of the tables of his shop and pulled a bold of cloth from it. "Perhaps a gown of Labrinsin Silk? Durable, and very comfortable." Wheat tongue shook his head.<br/><br/>"No, while I will never complain about the comfort of Labrinsin, it is hardly resistant to snags, and is far from water proof. The most treasured clothing of my people is made to keep the rain at bay." He nodded to Whisper, who reluctantly removed the bundle from his back and placed it on the table.<br/><br/>"Why, what is this?" Demui're asked, his curiosity genuinely attracted. Whisper untied the bundle and spread the pelt out across the table. It took up the entire table and spilled down the sides like a great white waterfall.<br/><br/>"Ohhhh." Demui're breathed and bent to stroke the pelt, his clothing demonstrating movements forgotten. "This is... this is a truly beautiful thing you have brought me master Whisper! This western madam of yours is quite the lucky woman. Yes indeed!"<br/><br/>"Could you fashion something from this? Perhaps a ridding jacket, breaches, boots, gloves, all the essentials of long travel. Perhaps... a bit of dye to give it a more natural coloration... While I would never suggest you undo such a beautiful shade of white, I'm sure you know my son's reputation for being a shadow. I'm afraid it will be hard for a woman to keep up with him should she be wearing bright white clothing."<br/><br/>Demui're ran both hands over the fur. He gathered a handful of it and brought it, still stinking of Al-gui, to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. "Why, of course. I shall have the best dyers in the kingdom set about making a pattern at once! There is however, the matter of price..."<br/><br/>Wheat Tongue gave his son a wink and turned fully to the master tailor. "Ah, and what would such an outfit cost?"<br/><br/>Demui're licked his lips, aware that he was dealing with the best negotiator in the east or west, and glanced down at the pelt. "Why, such an outfit would be... invaluable. Irreplaceable. One of a kind in even the most fashionable of cities. Envy of the Queen and every woman of court! Surely, surely asking to retain the remaining hide, after all accessories had been made of course, is not too much to ask?"<br/><br/>Whisper knew the value of even a scrap of Al-gui pelt, and even after such an outfit as his father was suggesting, there would be a fortune of material left over. Surely he wouldn't agree-"<br/><br/>"Done. Begin work immediately Master Demui're, we have a wedding to announce soon."<br/><br/>Demui're nodded enthusiastically and smiled. "Yes, of course! I shall place all other orders on hold. Even if the Queen threatens to throw me in prison, I shall have this outfit made!" Wheat Tongue made the necessary arrangements, sighed the appropriate papers, (Whisper would have to remember to have his father teach him how to do that) and bit the master tailor good day.<br/><br/>********<br/><br/>"That went very well I think." Wheat Tongue commented as they stepped out into the street.<br/><br/>"Well? Well?! You gave almost half of my pelt away!"<br/><br/>"And what would you do with half an Al-gui pelt?"<br/><br/>"I was going to trade it! I was going to trade for a horse! The most magnificent horse in the west! A horse to make Black toes' spirit weep with envy! And you just,<em>gave</em>it away!"<br/><br/>"Stop whining Whisper, for being the only named son I have, you can be quite the child when things don't go your way."<br/><br/>Whisper was stunned into silence, long enough for his father to launch into the next part of what Whisper was quickly beginning to think of as his scheme. "Now, you have yet to meet Gatekeeper's daughter, so listen closely. A feast will be held tomorrow night, one in which the two of you will be introduced. It will be a westerner's feast, so there are many things for me to teach you before then. Do not forget them. All of the city's important people will be there, watching you."<br/><br/>Whisper swallowed hard, suddenly wishing the Al-gui had dragged him into the pond and eaten him.<br/><br/>"Now, the first thing to remember about Western feasts is this: they use lots of little tools to take apart their food..."