Amira sat cross legged on a flat stone as the aroma of cooking fish radiated from the crackling fire. She rested her wrists on her knees in the pose of contemplation and bought herself into balance. In her minds eye the stars over head wheeled in great arcs even as for others they seemed still and constant. Things changed and things stayed the same. At the edge of her awareness there was a continual buzzing as of the locust in the dunebrush. Slowly but surely it drew her out of her mediation. Her dark eyes snapped open and she found Rhaak gazing moresely into the fire, prodding their dinner  with a stick for some culinary purpose she did not immediately comprehend.

"Speak if you must," she said, not quite managing to keep a waspish undertone from her voice. It was the first time she had spoken to the slave except to issue commands or explain a task she needed performed.

"Your thoughts are like rice upon a drum."

[@POOHEAD189]