Saran led Mayumi and Satchiko towards the center of the camp. They passed many people, all busy with their daily lives. To Satchiko, this is the first time she met people living only in tents. These nomads clearly do not remain stationary, not bound to a single place.
"Thanks for those flowers. It seems my idiot husband does have quite the luck whenever he gets himself into a mess! You two must be starving!" Saran laughed in a friendly manner. "But don't worry, your dinner tonight would make you so stuffed, you'll wish you hadn't even eaten in the first place!"
"Well, we haven't eaten anything in ages! My stomach can probably fit just about anything now!" Satchiko's stomach then rumbled a little. "Besides, it's nice to try something other than fish and seafood for once!"
"Oh? "You two live near the ocean?"
"We came from an island," Mayumi said. "Provisions such as meat from inland are quite rare."
While Kyoshi island's geographical conditions have blessed its inhabitants with excellent access to ocean resources, the minimal presence of terrestrial animals such as cattle does have its drawbacks. For one, there is a strong dependency on fishing. With limited agriculture dedicated to growing rice and plants, disaster would surely come if the sea is compromised.
"That's unfortunate," Saran said. "For us, we eat hunted meat from the wilds almost every meal! You should have as much as you want. It's the least we can provide for you for protecting my son."
Upon mentioning Batu, Satchiko inquired about the boy's past. Specifically, why he hates the Airbending monks. Judging by Saran's reluctance, it seems that this subject is a taboo amongst their people.
"Apologies, my sister's outspokenness may have been too intrusive," Mayumi stated.
"It's fine," Saran said in a quieter voice. "Just please, no need to mention about his birth parents."
They resumed their walk, treading gently across the grass as lights emitted from bonfires slowly came into view. While none of the people here wanted to openly talk about their past, it only prompted Satchiko to be even more determined to know their history, especially about Batu's feud with the Air Nomads. From her sister's words, the monks from the temples are a peaceful people.
A vibrant atmosphere stood before them. Many gathered around the large yellow tent that serves as the main meeting area for the clan. It is a festive place. Large bonfires and skewed meat being slowly roasted. Laughing, eating, drinking, and laughing again. Musicians played various instruments such as flutes made from bison horns.
A strong aroma wafted across the camp. Satchiko spotted various hunted animals such as wild hogs being cooked over the fire. Spices and herbs are being applied. Despite her drooling mouth, she cannot help but remember Batu's simple yet philosophical words. The gluttony of humans is satisfied by sacrificing innocent animals.
The sound of loud, unmannered chewing became irritatingly prominent. There he is, Batu, eating his food without much care for the world around him. He is currently gobbling down roasted meat from wooden skewers, devouring them all at once. Even a deadly encounter with those deranged acolytes cannot dissuade his voracious appetite.
"Chew carefully!" the older girl next to him warned. "If you don't, you might choke! Can you at least show some awareness? How can you eat when Dad has injured himself in battle?"
Batu did not comply. He grabbed another skewer with meat on it, taking another bite, this time a mouthful of food. The boy mumbled some words. "Like that would actually happen. I always eat like this and never choke!" He asserted overconfidently. "Besides, you're always worrying too much, Sarangerel. Dad is going to be just fine!"
"You shouldn't say things like that so casually," Sarangerel warned, exasperated.
Batu suddenly choked on his food. Ironically, his careless boast failed to align with the reality. But luckily, the woman's quick thinking prompted her to pat his back forcefully, alleviating this uncomfortable experience. The piece of meat was coughed out of the little boy's mouth, landing on a baby Sky-Bison's head. Fortunately, the creature remained undisturbed.
"That's disgusting!" Sarangerel complained. She had been combing the bison's fur for a while now, and it had been ruined in an instant.
"Um, are you going to touch that?" Batu wondered.
"Of course not!" she refuted sharply. Sarangerel moved her hands, waving them around the Sky-Bison's head. She compressed the air around her into a small rotating ball, which enveloped the piece of meat off to the ground.
Batu watched this simple Airbending technique while munching on food. Occasionally, juvenile Sky-Bisons would perform this trick in their own little games. Her sister managed to learn it alone.
"Batu!" Satchiko cried. "You're okay!"
The little boy was also glad to see them. Without face paints, the two Kyoshi Warriors appear almost completely different.
In record time, he is already offering food. The two Kyoshi Warriors enjoyed a few shewered meat, with Satchiko remarking its tastiness.
"I see, so father isn't in any immediate danger," Sarangerel sighed in relief. Her entire body relaxed as if a heavy weight had been lifted. She turned around, thanking to two brown haired women.
After that ordeal, both Saran and Sarangerel departed to retrieve some more food from the bonfires. Without them noticing, Batu held two mugs of fermented milk. There wasn't much explanation needed, as the Kyoshi warriors knew this must be their cultural beverage.
"This is the drink I told you about," he handed a cup to Satchiko. "They're from Sky-Bisons, try some!"
"Batu!" a middle-aged voice called. "I don't think you're old enough to drink this!" The voice hurried over, almost stumbling in the process.
They turned around and saw Ganbaatar walking toward them. The man was no longer in his lamellar armor. Instead, he wore the simple brown fur deel that complemented a fur hat. The bandage on his leg is surprisingly still very clean, demonstrating the physician's competent healing skills.
He quickly snatched the mug from the boy, who responded with a slightly annoyed expression.
"I thought today is a special day!" he complained. "When we make toasts, am I going to use normal Sky-Bison milk instead of the fermented one?"
The middle-aged warrior nodded attentively, easily brushing off the intimidating childish act.
"You are still a growing boy," he lectured, leaving no room for compromise. "Fermented milk isn't good for helping you grow. If you want to actually hunt something bigger than Turtle-Ducks, first you need to make your bones stronger. We don't want anything broken if you fall off while flying up in the air, do we?" There was a bit of humor in his voice, teasing Batu's stature.
The people around the nearby bonfire laughed a little.
"Better grow tall quickly!" one of them chuckled, sipping a cup of fermented milk and relish Batu's childish tantrum.
Batu huffed and crossed his arms to display this displeasure. It was actually a little amusing to see the boy do this.
"Now, now, kid, don't give me that look," Ganbaatar brushed off the unimpressive display easily. "Eat more meat, grow tall, and then next time we go out hunting, I'll let you hunt larger prey like a... um, a Fox-Antelope or something. I don't know."
"No," Batu sharply stated. "I want to hunt an Badgermole!"
Ganbaatar wiped the sweat off his forehead upon hearing the boy's ambition. "You're dreaming big dreams, but not even I would go that far. Those beasts live underneath the earth itself."
"They wouldn't taste very good either!" a chef yelled from a nearby bonfire. He is likely terrified by the idea of preparing the creature for a meal. Additionally, harming one of the original bending masters is a great disrespect.
With this conclusion, Ganbaatar left to sit alone near a smaller fire. He appears lonely, simply staring at the flame while drinking by himself.
"How disastrous!" Batu complained. He looked at Satchiko, relieved that she still retains her beverage. But before she can take a tiny sip from the mug, Mayumi used gently stopped her.
"Maybe when you're older," Mayumi suggested.
It might have been an overprotective measure. Mayumi took the mug from Satchiko and tried the fermented drink herself.
"How does it taste?" Satchiko asked.
"Lighter than the rice wine from our village's brewer." Mayumi turned to Batu, remarking the uniqueness of this fermented drink, since most alcohol are created using plants.
Their little conversation is disrupted when an armored guard arrived to escort them into the main tent. Sarangerel came back to join them, entering the main room where a single path leads to a small empty dais. Both sides of the space are filled with people sitting on ground enjoying food and drinks. Understandably, there are no chairs here.
The four of them soon found a low table full of girls of various ages, with some vacant spaces for them to sit. In an instant, Sarangerel eagerly presented them with the White Dragon Bush Satchiko had delivered, causing them all to gleam in surprise.
A pot of tea is quickly prepared. Everyone, except for Satchiko and Batu, waited with anticipation. The distinct aroma of the tea started to fill the air.
Sarangerel poured the tea into everyone's cups, except for Batu, who refused the offer.
"These tastes so good!" a girl around Satchiko's age exclaimed. She drank slowly, savoring every drop of this rare brew. Everyone else displayed similar behavior, seemingly transported to another realm.
Mayumi glanced at the hot cup of tea in her hands, feeling its warmth on the clay as she sipped slowly. There is no need for an elaborate poem to written about the flavor.
"How fortunate we are to encounter a tea that truly lives up to its name." The Kyoshi Warrior said.
The others around the table agreed. Batu, on the other hand, filled his mouth with more meat, giving him an unmannered appearance in the absence of his older and gentler sister.
As Mayumi enjoys the aftertaste, she noticed that her hadn't yet consumed her own cup.
Satchiko stared at the teacup, hardly moving. She sipped the tea hesitantly, finding it sour. But maybe it was just the result of her own exhaustion. For the first time in her life, she is reluctant to eat. The roasted meat on the table starkly contrasts the sight of hungry children who are plagued by an impoverished existence. Although she acknowledges her own powerlessness, eating after witnessing such eye-opening horror felt guilty. It is a sensation she cannot describe easily with words.
The world felt so much bigger. After leaving the island, she has been exposed to so much suffering. It is a cruel reality. No one is immune, regardless of their wealth or health.
A rogue tear slipped from the corner of her eye, which is quickly wiped away. At first, Satchiko thought no one noticed. But a reassuring hard from Mayumi disproves such notion.
A young hunter burst into the tent with a loud cry and a wide smile on his face, announcing his arrival. "I'm back!"
The two Kyoshi Warriors recognized his appearance. It is the Airbender who scaled over Tu's wall but was severely wounded by Shui's claws. Somehow, he is still standing.
"Jargal!" The men at the table erupted in cheers. "How was your hunting trip?" one of the men asked. None of them inquired about his injuries, which are hidden below the fur.
"I happened to catch this!" The hunter held out a fully grown Turtle-Duck for everyone to see. An arrow is still lodged into the animal's neck, causing its tongue to stick out. While it wasn't particularly impressive to this skilled group of hunters, everyone still took notice. "I only managed to shoot the mother, but the two little ones were fast! They swam away before I could reach for another arrow!"
Satchiko grimaced. Her thoughts became blank. The adult Turtle-Duck in Jargal's hand is definitely the same one she saved from Batu.
She turned away as Jargal intends to cook soup using the meat but is quickly dissuaded by the men near the table. Their trivial activities are soon interrupted by the sound of the Khan marching through the entrance.
Still clad in heavy armor, he walked to the small dais. Guards helped to remove pieces of metal, placing it on a nearby rack. When those obscurities are stripped away, all that remains is an old man. Despite the advanced age, he is still stern and grim, an imposing demeanor that refuses to fade with time. Thick eyebrows ensure a ferocious gaze should he intend to use it.
This is the Khan, leader of this group of nomads.
He sat down on the dais, lifting a bowl of fermented milk. "My kin, my people!" He stated with a deep and determined voice. "Another year has quickly flown by, and the Eternal Sky has been generous, our hunt is more than last time!"
The crowd listened attentively, even those outside the tent toned down their volume just to listen to the speech.
"Our two guests have graciously joined us for this feast," he said. "Now, let us together commemorate the passing of another year."
The speech is short and simple. The Khan raised his bowl, and everyone else in the tent did the same with their drinks. Mayumi also offer toast using a bowl of fermented milk. Although Kyoshi Warriors do not celebrate the passing of another year on this particular day, cultural differences naturally create different time for special events. As guests, they will also adhere.
Musicians soon filed into the tent. Under the tone of fiddles, one of them initiated throat-singing, intriguing the two guests who are unfamiliar with this performance. Sarangerel offered to explain the intricate nature of learning how to sing in this manner.
As the Khan enjoyed his portion of fermented milk and meat, a lone guard entered the tent and arrived before him. The sentry whispered into the chieftain's ear, causing the leader to worry.
End of Chapter Note:
-The armor of the Khan is based on the Iron Pagoda Armor variant specifically worn by Jurchen Jin Dynasty.