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Hanni did not expect that Tanishe would come immediately to her husband's side, but she had felt it better for the woman to know her husband's location rather than worry about it and be shocked by his absence in their hawe later. The leier seemed to quickly fade out due to the fever, and there was little that she could do but care for the hot flashes and the cold moments, alternating between regulating his body temperature and ensuring that the leier had enough fluids in his body to survive the next hour or so.
Fevers were not a laughing matter and even the smallest fever could fell the greatest of men. She thought of the previous leier and young Sange during the last massive swell of illness in their tribe. An illness such as this had not struck so hard since then, but even now, it was still not as bad. If they were careful and considerate, they could ensure that as many people as possible survived to move on from the Port of the West in but a short time.
Hasani faded in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of Hanni sweeping his forehead with a damp cloth and then curling him up into blankets. He drank when she said to drink, but he did not truly move or find coherence until the face of his wife appeared in his vision. Roused slightly from the fever-dreams of the desert, the leier smiled tiredly up at his wife.
"I am never careless... merely selfless and not considering of my own needs," the leier mused quietly up at his wife, his eyes opening and then closing again. "The tribe does not need me so much as it needs you," Hasani argued softly, turning his head so that he could watch her easier, humming. "Is Saro well?" he mumbled, "Are you well?" He didn't know what he would be able to do if both his wife and his friend caught the sickness. The tribe would be worse off without Tanishe being able to help them, and Saro... well, this was not something he wanted his new friend subjected to. Illness in the desert was a harsh thing.
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Oct 8, 2020 18:02:43 GMT
Posted In Heated Flesh on Oct 8, 2020 18:02:43 GMT
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Check out their information page here.
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Hanni did not expect that Tanishe would come immediately to her husband's side, but she had felt it better for the woman to know her husband's location rather than worry about it and be shocked by his absence in their hawe later. The leier seemed to quickly fade out due to the fever, and there was little that she could do but care for the hot flashes and the cold moments, alternating between regulating his body temperature and ensuring that the leier had enough fluids in his body to survive the next hour or so.
Fevers were not a laughing matter and even the smallest fever could fell the greatest of men. She thought of the previous leier and young Sange during the last massive swell of illness in their tribe. An illness such as this had not struck so hard since then, but even now, it was still not as bad. If they were careful and considerate, they could ensure that as many people as possible survived to move on from the Port of the West in but a short time.
Hasani faded in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of Hanni sweeping his forehead with a damp cloth and then curling him up into blankets. He drank when she said to drink, but he did not truly move or find coherence until the face of his wife appeared in his vision. Roused slightly from the fever-dreams of the desert, the leier smiled tiredly up at his wife.
"I am never careless... merely selfless and not considering of my own needs," the leier mused quietly up at his wife, his eyes opening and then closing again. "The tribe does not need me so much as it needs you," Hasani argued softly, turning his head so that he could watch her easier, humming. "Is Saro well?" he mumbled, "Are you well?" He didn't know what he would be able to do if both his wife and his friend caught the sickness. The tribe would be worse off without Tanishe being able to help them, and Saro... well, this was not something he wanted his new friend subjected to. Illness in the desert was a harsh thing.
Hanni did not expect that Tanishe would come immediately to her husband's side, but she had felt it better for the woman to know her husband's location rather than worry about it and be shocked by his absence in their hawe later. The leier seemed to quickly fade out due to the fever, and there was little that she could do but care for the hot flashes and the cold moments, alternating between regulating his body temperature and ensuring that the leier had enough fluids in his body to survive the next hour or so.
Fevers were not a laughing matter and even the smallest fever could fell the greatest of men. She thought of the previous leier and young Sange during the last massive swell of illness in their tribe. An illness such as this had not struck so hard since then, but even now, it was still not as bad. If they were careful and considerate, they could ensure that as many people as possible survived to move on from the Port of the West in but a short time.
Hasani faded in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of Hanni sweeping his forehead with a damp cloth and then curling him up into blankets. He drank when she said to drink, but he did not truly move or find coherence until the face of his wife appeared in his vision. Roused slightly from the fever-dreams of the desert, the leier smiled tiredly up at his wife.
"I am never careless... merely selfless and not considering of my own needs," the leier mused quietly up at his wife, his eyes opening and then closing again. "The tribe does not need me so much as it needs you," Hasani argued softly, turning his head so that he could watch her easier, humming. "Is Saro well?" he mumbled, "Are you well?" He didn't know what he would be able to do if both his wife and his friend caught the sickness. The tribe would be worse off without Tanishe being able to help them, and Saro... well, this was not something he wanted his new friend subjected to. Illness in the desert was a harsh thing.
She would never admit that fear curled inside her breast as Hasani struggled. The beads of sweat on his brow, shimmering from the sun streaming in through the open tent flap, reminded her powerfully of her father when a similar sickness had struck him down. She’d sat on the side of his bed, just like she was doing now, mopping his forehead with a cool cloth, and humming to him, praying over him. Her mother and sister had been doing the same, but split between the leier and her brother Shange, who also nearly succumbed. She’d need to check on her siblings and mother, soon, especially her brother. He was susceptible to illness, however strong a warrior he’d turned out to be.
At last, Hasani appeared to be coming around. She smiled at him as he rasped out a response to her cajoling. “I am never careless... merely selfless and not considering of my own needs.”
“That’s just as bad and you know it,” she said softly, drawing the cloth over the shimmer of his cheekbones and nose. His beard and mustache glittered and she dipped the cloth back into the shallow bowl of water, wrung it out, and reapplied the cloth to him again. This time she dipped it down his neck and onto his chest, listening as he said, wrongly, in her opinion, that the tribe needed her more. That was highly debatable. Especially because she felt she’d be no use to anyone were Hasani not to be alive anymore. She found the highly romantic notion of wandering the desert until her body gave out to be preferable to having to live and breathe if he was no longer on the planet.
“Is Saro well?” Hasani asked, bringing about a welcome change of subject.
“Well enough to help haul you in here,” she said and put the bowl on the ground so she could rest her palms against his burning chest.
”Are you well?”
She smiled. “Perfectly well,” she promised. “I do not seem to be susceptible to this sort of illness. Sleep,” she said and leaned forward to press her lips to his fiery hot forehead. Then she kissed his lips, rubbed their noses lightly together, kissed him again, and left his side. She’d have much rather’d not leave him, but he had reminded her that there were other people in the tribe and despite her protests, she was necessary. Not the most necessary, but useful all the same.
Taking her things back out with her among the tents, she caught up to Saro, and together, they continued to tend to the fever racked tribe.
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Oct 27, 2020 15:38:53 GMT
Posted In Heated Flesh on Oct 27, 2020 15:38:53 GMT
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She would never admit that fear curled inside her breast as Hasani struggled. The beads of sweat on his brow, shimmering from the sun streaming in through the open tent flap, reminded her powerfully of her father when a similar sickness had struck him down. She’d sat on the side of his bed, just like she was doing now, mopping his forehead with a cool cloth, and humming to him, praying over him. Her mother and sister had been doing the same, but split between the leier and her brother Shange, who also nearly succumbed. She’d need to check on her siblings and mother, soon, especially her brother. He was susceptible to illness, however strong a warrior he’d turned out to be.
At last, Hasani appeared to be coming around. She smiled at him as he rasped out a response to her cajoling. “I am never careless... merely selfless and not considering of my own needs.”
“That’s just as bad and you know it,” she said softly, drawing the cloth over the shimmer of his cheekbones and nose. His beard and mustache glittered and she dipped the cloth back into the shallow bowl of water, wrung it out, and reapplied the cloth to him again. This time she dipped it down his neck and onto his chest, listening as he said, wrongly, in her opinion, that the tribe needed her more. That was highly debatable. Especially because she felt she’d be no use to anyone were Hasani not to be alive anymore. She found the highly romantic notion of wandering the desert until her body gave out to be preferable to having to live and breathe if he was no longer on the planet.
“Is Saro well?” Hasani asked, bringing about a welcome change of subject.
“Well enough to help haul you in here,” she said and put the bowl on the ground so she could rest her palms against his burning chest.
”Are you well?”
She smiled. “Perfectly well,” she promised. “I do not seem to be susceptible to this sort of illness. Sleep,” she said and leaned forward to press her lips to his fiery hot forehead. Then she kissed his lips, rubbed their noses lightly together, kissed him again, and left his side. She’d have much rather’d not leave him, but he had reminded her that there were other people in the tribe and despite her protests, she was necessary. Not the most necessary, but useful all the same.
Taking her things back out with her among the tents, she caught up to Saro, and together, they continued to tend to the fever racked tribe.
She would never admit that fear curled inside her breast as Hasani struggled. The beads of sweat on his brow, shimmering from the sun streaming in through the open tent flap, reminded her powerfully of her father when a similar sickness had struck him down. She’d sat on the side of his bed, just like she was doing now, mopping his forehead with a cool cloth, and humming to him, praying over him. Her mother and sister had been doing the same, but split between the leier and her brother Shange, who also nearly succumbed. She’d need to check on her siblings and mother, soon, especially her brother. He was susceptible to illness, however strong a warrior he’d turned out to be.
At last, Hasani appeared to be coming around. She smiled at him as he rasped out a response to her cajoling. “I am never careless... merely selfless and not considering of my own needs.”
“That’s just as bad and you know it,” she said softly, drawing the cloth over the shimmer of his cheekbones and nose. His beard and mustache glittered and she dipped the cloth back into the shallow bowl of water, wrung it out, and reapplied the cloth to him again. This time she dipped it down his neck and onto his chest, listening as he said, wrongly, in her opinion, that the tribe needed her more. That was highly debatable. Especially because she felt she’d be no use to anyone were Hasani not to be alive anymore. She found the highly romantic notion of wandering the desert until her body gave out to be preferable to having to live and breathe if he was no longer on the planet.
“Is Saro well?” Hasani asked, bringing about a welcome change of subject.
“Well enough to help haul you in here,” she said and put the bowl on the ground so she could rest her palms against his burning chest.
”Are you well?”
She smiled. “Perfectly well,” she promised. “I do not seem to be susceptible to this sort of illness. Sleep,” she said and leaned forward to press her lips to his fiery hot forehead. Then she kissed his lips, rubbed their noses lightly together, kissed him again, and left his side. She’d have much rather’d not leave him, but he had reminded her that there were other people in the tribe and despite her protests, she was necessary. Not the most necessary, but useful all the same.
Taking her things back out with her among the tents, she caught up to Saro, and together, they continued to tend to the fever racked tribe.