"It's still raining, isn't it?" Willow asked Tara. The early morning light was muted, and a soft roar permeated the air.

"Of course," Tara confirmed. "But on the bright side, there's only...half a year of rain left!"

Willow glared at her lover. "Oh joy. More rain. Yay." Once again, they were stuck in Dzninwalom's house, sorting through herbs. The zhaki was attending one of the tulkas who'd come down with some sort of fever. From what the elder pakra had muttered on her way out the door, such fevers weren't uncommon in the hold. Willow and Tara had already suffered through two bouts of fever--one shortly after their arrival and another just a couple of weeks ago. Tara figured that it was something akin to malaria--they'd had a fever, uncontrollable tremors, and overall malaise. At the moment, however, both women were feeling fine. Well, as fine as they could feel whilst confined inside Dzninwalom's house. The pakra didn't feel trapped by the rainy season; after all, they had gills and were uniquely equipped to survive in the murky, deep waters that surrounded the hold. However, it was dangerous for humans, who stood to be swept away by a sudden gust of wind. Willow had been stubborn on the issue of staying inside--until she'd fallen off a walkway and been immersed in the water below. Had Brial not been with them at the time, she would've drowned, caught up in the reeds and mud that sucked at everything below the hold.

Tara shrugged at Willow's sour mood. She wasn't exactly thrilled by the weather, but it wasn't something they could change--much like their current situation. The climate had trapped the two women in Avare, and it was only by the graciousness of the native pakra that they had shelter and sustenance. Both of them felt greatly beholden to Dzninwalom, Brial and Amuin, who provided for their every need, and they tried to pay their new friends back by working studiously at Dzninwalom's side.

"We're running low on ystni," Willow remarked, holding up a nearly-empty container. "And it's not in season right now."

"Yeah," Tara confirmed, looking onto the bin. "I think it's all the fever going around. Maybe Brial can find some across the hold or something. I think the Mvwatka use it in tea." She wasn't sure why they liked it so much, since the herb was incredibly bitter and had a rancid aftertaste.

"Fat chance of getting them to give any over, though," Willow grumbled. "Stingy bastards."

Tara could only nod in agreement. "We'll have to ask Dzninwalom when she gets back this evening."

Apprenticing with Dzninwalom was a new experience for both Willow and Tara. Neither woman was used to a formal, structured education outside of the academic classroom. Most of their magickal knowledge was gleaned from practical experience--trial and error, mixed in with some independent study and Giles' stern admonitions to be careful. Dzninwalom was nothing like Giles, Tara's mother, or any of their other human influences. She firmly believed in learning the basics first, and in her mind, Tara and Willow were woefully undereducated. As a result, most of their days were spent doing the most mundane of tasks--sorting and caring for Dzninwalom's supplies, maintaining the upkeep of her utensils, and cleaning both Dzninwalom's home and Brial and Amuin's.

"Is this dnfaf, or ghndi?" Willow inquired, holding up a curly, dusty green leaf.

Tara glanced over briefly. "Uffm," She replied, smirking slightly. "Count the veins. Dnfaf has seven, ghndi has eight, and uffm has nine."

"Oh," Willow murmured, looking at the leaf again. "Yeah, it does. Damn, I suck at this."

"You'll get better," Tara assured her. "It just takes time."

"It'd be easier if Dzninwalom would let me label the jars," Willow grumbled. "What's the harm in that?"

"Well..." Tara began, "It could be that you'd be labeling them in English, which would only you and I."

Willow rolled her eyes. "As if it's my fault pakra don't read English!"

"You could learn pakra, you know," Tara reminded her. "It wouldn't kill you." Tara herself was learning the written form of the language they were already beginning to speak. It was an uphill battle, though, since pakra was written and read from the bottom of the page to the top, from right to left. Then there was the alphabet, which had fifty-seven characters, and at least a dozen different accent marks.

"Eh, Dzninwalom just wants to make this more difficult than it has to be," Willow muttered, scowling at nothing in particular.

Although Willow was reluctant to admit it, she was learning a lot from the zhaki. In their own dimension, she had no problem with simply sorting herbs by usage, or elemental affiliation. Here, though, she was forced to understand how the physical structure of plants determined their usages. One of Dzninwalom's favorite chores for the redheaded witch was to mix up a bowl of assorted herbs and make Willow sort and identify the contents. It often took an entire day to do so, at which time Dzninwalom would provide a new bowl. Tara rarely got that sort of task--she seemed to pick up the details of identification faster and had no need for such drills. Unfortunately, that left Tara with a great deal of polishing and sanding as someone had to keep the bowls, mortars and pestles in working order.

The constant patter of rain all around them made it difficult to judge the passage of time, and midday was well upon them before either girl realized how long they'd been working. When Brial and Amuin showed up to check on their roommates, both Tara and Willow were sorting the latest batch of dried herbs. As a result, the floor was covered in mounds of green and grey fibers, making the place a minefield for the unsuspecting pakra.

"Hey!" Tara shouted, just when Amuin would have put his foot in a pile of prickly vaahnim. "You don't want to do that, Amuin. Major ouchies."

Amuin looked down and immediately backed up. vaahnim thorns left a painful, swollen wound that would make walking most uncomfortable. "Yeah, you've got a point there. How goes the sorting?" He asked, glancing around the room. Both he and Brial looked vaguely bored. The rainy season was the most boring time of year for most pakra, including scouts and gatherers like Brial and Amuin. They spent their days weaving reeds and making repairs to various parts of the hold, all the while wishing they were outside in the marshes.

Willow shrugged. "Sorting is boring, to be honest, but there's no way around it. Say..." She continued, frowning slightly, "Is there any chance you can barter some ystni from the Mvwatka? Dzninwalom's running a bit short of it."

Tara scowled at Willow. That was something Dzninwalom should have taken care of, not them. Besides, even if the Mvwatka were unwilling to openly trade for it, the tulfyadyamna would make it very uncomfortable for them not to relinquish at least a small portion of their hoard of the herb. Dzninwalom was the ranking zhaki in the area, and if she needed it to treat fevers, she would have it--even if it made a few stubborn pakra a bit unhappy.

Amuin glanced over at Brial. "I wouldn't worry about it," Amuin replied slowly. "The tulfyadyamna took care of that after Dzninwalom went to visit them today. When a tulka is sick, they tend to pay attention to Dzninwalom's requests."

"Speaking of Dzninwalom's requests," Brial said, taking up where Amuin had left off, "She wants you to learn to write pakra. With both of you apprenticing now, there's no reason for you not to know how to take notes and the like. Oh, and you need to learn how to cook."

Tara sighed softly. She seemed to remember a time when she thought she missed school. Why? As soon as she got the hang of something, a new chore got piled on top of everything else she had to do. Cook, clean, spit shine and polish. Sort, listen to Willow whine about everything... "Ok," She said, not bothering to hide her lack of enthusiasm.

Willow didn't bother to respond. She just kind of collapsed back onto the floor. If they stopped sleeping, they might have enough time each day to get all their chores done.

•••

"Um... I'm supposed to do *what*?"

Brial smirked at Willow's expression. "Just slice across the belly, like this, " He repeated, using a sharp knife to slit open the belly of an uui. The fish's flesh parted, allowing its innards to spill forth. "Really shallow, or you'll have guts in the flesh, and that tastes *nasty*."

Willow grimaced and took hold of her uui once again. The knife blade skittered and slipped across the slick flesh, and as soon as she managed to pierce the skin, she knew she'd cut in too deep. A dark, red-brown liquid seeped out of the cut, mixing with the pale yellow of the uui's blood. "Uh oh," She whispered, hoping that Brial hadn't seen that.

Her hopes proved fruitless. "Er, more shallow than that," He said, his expression much like hers. "Here, let me see if I can salvage that. We might be able to wash the worst off and use it for stew or something."

Willow handed over the ruined uui and watched as Brial effortlessly filleted it. "Maybe I should stick to chopping veggies?" She offered. That, she could do. Besides, no matter how hard you hacked a vegetable, you couldn't make its guts puke all over your hands and make everything smell like fish... well, the more she thought about it, the less she like the idea of ever eating fish again. "Can we just not have uui?"

Brial laughed. "No. Besides, eating this will be good motivation for you to get better at cleaning uui--and once you've gotten that down, we'll work on mjyya. They make uui look easy."

"Easy?" Willow echoed. "Erm... Tara?"

"No," Tara said from across the room, where Amuin was showing her how to bind qqnia meal in soft, green reeds. The meal would be steamed in the reeds. At meal time, the reeds would be cracked open, revealing a soft, moist breadstick like food that pakra ate like candy. The process of binding the qqnia meal wasn't as easy as it looked; she kept letting the split reed slide open before she got it tied together with a strip of reed leaf. "Unless you want to trade, of course."

Willow shook her head and returned to learning how to gut uui. She'd rather ruin a bucketful of uui than deal with slimy, green reeds. Blech. "Brial?"

"Yeah?"

The redhead paused, wondering if she was about to break some sort of taboo she had no idea existed. "Um... how did you and Amuin... meet?"

Brial looked up and over at Willow. "For the first time?"

Willow nodded. "Or is that not..."

The pakra smiled and shook his head. "We grew up together--born on the same day. I don't think we've ever gone a day without seeing each other."

"Wow," Willow murmured. "That's... it kinda reminds me of me and my best friend... Xander... We met when we were really young. Best buddies 'til the end." Complete with semi-requited lust, and thinking about Xander was making Willow a bit depressed. He was over here somewhere, but she'd probably never see him again. It was so fucking frustrating. Dawn, Xander... she was a useless excuse for a witch if she couldn't even find--

"Willow?" Brial interrupted. Willow looked over, realizing just then that she was speaking out loud.

"Um, yeah?" Willow said, face reddening. Brial and Amuin tried very hard to keep Willow from beating herself up about the situation surrounding her appearance in their world.

"Are you going to gut that uui, or squeeze it to a pulp?"

Willow looked down and saw that she had a death grip on the small fish and was indeed a short way from turning it into fish paste. Nasty, smelly, gut-containing fish paste. "Erm... shallow slice all the way down the belly?"

"Yeah. Don't press too hard, especially when you first start," He said, demonstrating on the uui he had in one hand. "You should feel the pressure of the intestines. When you feel the skin start to part, just stop pressing. The knife won't cut into the intestines unless you apply pressure. Like this." And like magic, the uui's belly parted and guts spilled forth into a waiting dish.

"This is just... really disgusting," Willow said as she tried it herself. Much to her surprise, the uui's intestines spilled forth uncut. She stared at the fish for a moment before looking up at Brial. "Now what?"

"Now we work on boning. Uui are really bony, and while we don't mind the bones, humans have a habit of choking on them."

Willow watched Brial bone one of the uui, and wondered if the expression of disgust on her face was going to become a permanent fixture.

She was beginning to worry about that.