[Nawo]

Two winters ago, in the Country of Shadows...

"Nawo! You need to see this!" Kotanchire was animated, bursting into the yurt with uncharacteristic haste. Out of breath, a d face flushed. Nawo raised a finger to her lips, and indicated the sleeping infants. Their children, by law, if not by blood. Nawo set aside the arrow she had been fletching, and rose to stand by her first husband, leaving the children in the care of her wives.

She touched his arm.
"Calm, Kotanchire. What has happened?" She could hear murmurs beyond the furs of the yurt, but no crys of alarm, no war horns. Not a raid, then, and they were by the coast, away from the mountains. Not an avalanche. But Kotanchire was rarely this flustered. She patted his arm soothingly as he took a few steadying breaths.

"A boat. A great boat! Many sails, large enough for the entirety of the Siwnin-Suma!" Kotanchire was still animated, but he kept his voice low. Excitement and worry both. "It makes for these shores, Nawo." Nawo nodded slowly, even as her eyes widened.
"So the gulls spoke true..." Seagulls were seldom reliable. Squabbling and quarrelsome sorts, always seeking the next morsel. But still worth listening to, it seemed. Nawo considered a moment, then nodded to herself. "Have the fighters and the hunters take up bow and sword. Tell Grandfather to make the yurts ready to move inland." Nawo squeezed her husband's arm, then made to take up Ipetam and the rest of her arms.

She was arrested by Kotanchire's gentle but firm grip.
"Tell me you're not planning to fight them. What if they are the wizards from inland? You-" Nawo silenced him with a kiss, then leaned into his embrace.
"I will go to make peace. I am just being careful." Nawo wasn't the chief, but she was the foremost fighter and hunter, so her words had sway. "Stay safe, and do not panic." Nawo pressed her nose to his, and fought off the urge to stay. She needed to ensure that, if this day was to be bloody, it would be the fault of these boat people, not her own.

The score of fighters, mostly men, had gathered quickly, standing on the far edge of the rocky shore. It was spring, but the ground remained hard with frost, a d flies of ice remained even on this southern coast.

The days remained short, but the great boat on the horizon was swift. It would be upon them before dusk.

Nawo stood by the frigid water, garbed in the colorful trappings of her people, glass beads rattling in the cool sea breeze. Her sword and knife remained sheathed at her hip, and her bow was in hand, though no arrow was nocked.

It was important to project both peace and strength. The boat loomed large. Big. Incomprehensible. Even the great village halls of the Nishkotoro-Hekaci paled in scope. She had never seen any man-made object so large. How many crewed it? Twenty? Thirty? Fear and burning curiosity warred within her.
"Let me speak. And no-one touches an arrow without my order." Nawo spoke calmly to the nervous fighters.

She needed this contact to be peaceful. If they were hostile... the yurts were still being made ready to move. Calm. Not emotion.

"Irankarapte!" Nawo called out, once she believed it within earshot, straining her eyes to even see a person aboard the monstrous vessel.

Not that she has any reason to assume that the boat people would even speak Akoro-Itak.

[Chikamatsu Kiyoshi]

     It was the furthest he'd ever been from his homeland, and probably the furthest he'd ever go. Looking upon the folk that lined the coast, he wagered it was also the strangest land he'd seen as well.

     Strands of black hair whipped past the retired Jounin's amber eyes, half-stuck to a short beard flecked with frost. It was cold here, perhaps as cold as Yuki no Kuni had been - but infinitely more foreign. Kiyoshi shivered despite his multiple layers, a repurposed padded black-and-tan Sunagakure uniform peeking out from a white coat that billowed from the frigid winds.

     "What did they say? Eera-nakapite?" The Chikamatsu asked as he turned to his bodyguard Gen'ichi. "Iran-karap-te," he decided and yelled it back to the small shapes that stood upon the shore with a grin. "Iran-karap-te!" Hoping it was a greeting, he stuck a flat-forward hand out over the railing to signify stop or peace, and was helped up onto it by Gen'ichi, who followed him.

     The pair jumped overboard, but rather than sinking into the waters, landed atop it and slowly, cautiously, walked towards the shore. Kiyoshi came within perhaps a dozen feet, until he could clearly see the face of the woman he presumed to be the leader, and with palms raised slowly came to a stop and looked around at the gathered crowd. He gestured at the water lapping up onto shore, gestured that the land was 'theirs' and the waters 'his'.

     "Hello," he said. Kiyoshi calmly and slowly lowered a hand to open his coat up and turned, showing both sides to all that were gathered - displaying that he, and Gen'ichi, who mirrored his motions, had no weapons. He dropped his hands back into his coat, once more covering up his black-and-tan uniform and hitai-ate. "I'm Kiyoshi - Chikamatsu Kiyoshi."

Nawo | 299 words

[Nawo]

There was a murmur of alarm and suspicion behind her as the men disembarked, and spoke in first awkward Akoro-Itak, then a tongue she had never heard before. But it didn't take long for some of the more superstitious of the men behind her to draw an inference; it could be the tongue of those strange wizards. Who knew what spells they would weave.

Nawo focused on the man ahead of her, looking fairly comfortable, despite the chill. Her hands were kept away from the hilts of the weapons at her belt, and she listened intently. Most of the words meant nothing to her, but he had gestured to himself, and repeated a fairly simple word. Emphasised it.

"E re 'Kiyosi' ya?" Nawo said slowly and deliberately, pointing towards Kiyoshi. The name was oddly pronounced, but still understandable. She gestured to herself, resting fingers against her chest. "Kani anakne Nawo kune. Nawo." Names were important, when meeting for the first time. Whether as allies or enemies.

"Nep-gusu..." Nawo began, then shook her head. Too abstract a question. Too interrogative. "Akoro-Itak e ye easkay ya?" She pointed to her mouth as she spoke, then touched her ear, before cocking her head. Attempting to convey her query in actions. Nawo's eyes were sharp, but glittering with more curiosity than apprehension.

She had never seen anyone who looked or dressed like this. And they bore no weapons that she could see. This seemed like a good omen. An opportunity.