[center][h3][color=khaki]Malleck ‘Freepaw’[/color][/h3][/center]

Malleck hadn't felt more at home for a very, very long time. The shifting of sand beneath his pawpads, the sight and warmth of the desert sun, the sound of the wind rolling over dunes and across the open terrain... Waves of nostalgia rolled over him, and if he closed his eyes he could almost hear the sounds of his pack - the yips of pups as they learnt that the sand was cooler than the roads that the clans laid out, the clicks and clacks of stargazer fetishes as they travelled, the quiet yips of hunters debating what prey to take.

Then he opened his eyes and looked out at the Mûmakils, the sea of tents and the impossible to miss walls, and he remembered that he was in the clanlands, not the rolling savannahs of his home. Ah well. Close enough. He trotted past the wagons and caravans being pulled up to the directed plot, heading towards the city walls and the guards standing on watch just outside it. As he approached, one turned to face him, the scowl across the guard's face becoming warmer as she took in who, exactly, she was talking to."

"Salamu alaykum! You've come a way from your hunting grounds, haven't you cousin?" They were dressed like most citizen soldiers: snake-like scales of burnished metal hung over her body underneath which sat he typical garb for anyone looking to stay cool in the desert - loose and flowing robes, to let sweat evaporate and be carried away... Although with all the metal being worn, sweat still beads across the woman's forehead. 

[color=Khaki]"Wa salaam, Further than you might think!"[/color] Malleck was speaking Emeg̃ir now - the ancient tongue the Dinnin had adopted from those who had come before them, then slowly built atop. He turned to look at the Pilgrim's Caravan, then back to the gates. [color=khaki]"So, cousin... I have to admit that it's been a long time since I visited a clanhold. Anything I should know?"[/color]

The guard copied his look, her gauntleted fingers tightening a little around the haft of her pike. "Tell those you walk with to mind themselves here. A fresh crop of captives makes everyone cautious for a while - never know when the kaffin might try something when this many of them are together. The army's got no patience for troublemakers - easy for someone to end up on the wrong side of an auction." 

Malleck bit his lip a little and nodded slowly. [color=khaki]"I'll let the group know. May the stars light your path, cousin."[/color]

"And may the flame light yours." With Malleck on the retreat, the guard turned back to their duties, the Ainok scampering off to try and find Athulwin... And maybe some of those he'd heard the most offended by the ideas of slaves. Things were done differently here - hopefully they'd understand.

[hr]

[center][h3][color=lightgreen]Gadri Abzan[/color][/h3][/center]

Gadri took a deep breath as their forge rolled to a halt, then slowly began gathering up the bags they'd packed for just this occasion. They had reached a clanhold. This was their land - their people... And their religion now held sway. The sun told them they had arrived a little before midday - sweltering hot, yes, but more importantly, a time for prayer and reflection. They didn't know when they'd get a chance to pray in a Masjid again, and even if they did this alone, they couldn't pass up the chance. Unfortunately, the only other Dinnin that they knew of within the caravan was Malleck, and the Ainok had their own peculiar ways of going about things... Which just left anyone interested in a cultural experience, they supposed.

[color=lightgreen]"Heading into the city,"[/color] they rumbled out. [color=lightgreen]"Anyone feels like seeing what a clanhold is really like... Be happy to show you."[/color]