by Nayt on Thu Jan 29, 2009 3:19 pm
At the comment about her name, Xibtrae lifted her head up look at this man, Garv, in the face. It was a bit more than she was originally willing to do, considering what he had seen of her, and the strong shame she was experiencing. It was then that she realized that Garv was sitting relatively close to her, which made her feel even more uncomfortable. Perhaps this wasn't the best person to run into, she thought--but he hadn't physically done anything to her other than give her clothes and help her get the shirt over her horns. He might have made her extremely uncomfortable, but he wasn't doing anything worth excess worry . . . not yet, at least.
Nonetheless, she refrained from asking about what he meant (wondering if there were anyone else with the same name), recalling something that Saqin had said about myths and legends. He had idly stated that many of his exploits were discussed regularly by other gods, which became hearsay for the angels, and then humans picked them up, telling them as oral stories, which poets eventually recorded. Over time, these exploits were dramatized into some things that Death had only partially done, and many gods were made up, but the fact remained that Xibtrae was in those legends. Introducing herself by name was a mistake, but she couldn't take that back now. She'd just have to try and seem . . . well . . . not godly, which was pretty easy at the moment, considering her crippling exhaustion and difficulty moving.
This meant that she couldn't be exactly truthful, but lying didn't come natural to her. This was going to be difficult. Xibtrae stared at the ground before her again and shook her head. She had understood the idea of what Garv was saying, but replying to it was difficult. Xibtrae couldn't tell the whole truth.
"Ic cunnan nāht . . . Ic onwæcan in sceadus, nāht magan tō gemyndgian hwi oþþe hū," whispered Xibtrae as she pulled her legs up--to have her knees against her chest, so she would feel at least a little less shameful. "Hīe sēcane mec, ac ic oþgan geond se weald--ac hider."
While her language was extremely difficult to understand sometimes, there were always words to understand for anyone, even the uneducated, that could permit them to comprehend what she was saying by context alone. The same went in reverse: modern Common had similar words in her language that allowed her to get the gist of what Garv was saying. Nonetheless, if he wasn't well versed in the language, then he'd be able to pick up these words: I ---- not . . . I awoke in shadows, naht ---- to ---- why or how. They ---- me, and I ---- ---- the [forest], and to here. Garv also had the benefit of knowing more than one language, and there were words common in Xibtrae's language that were borrowed in others, and used with the same meaning. Greoul's native language, for example. There, wald and weald meant the same thing . . .
This was the most she had said in a long time, and if he asked more, she was definitely going to say much less--it hurt her throat. Xibtrae coughed dryly, her throat practically devoid of any semblance of moisture.