her modesty is a strange creature. in some respects she is confident of her beauty and worth. if she was nothing, worthless, why would she have been chosen to be the yajna? why would the women of her parivaar have prepared her with such carefulness? part had been to infirmity of course… she could never be presented to the high ranking men when the time of her maturity came. she could do no good in bettering her family’s standing with marriage because she was imperfect… but as the offering? she could improve her family’s standing in the eyes of kali and more important in this life, the raajy itself. she was worth more to them dead than alive… that was all before. Now her worth is something she doesn’t understand. what good is beauty and purity in this land if she cannot be what she needs to survive? if she is solely dependent on the goodness of others…of one.

the delicately curled ears at her poll turn slightly at the whisper of shuffling sand and she wakes. as always, her breath hitches carefully until she hears the sound she waits for every day. her head dips gracefully in acknowledgement of him. she steps to his side, knowing he would leave a respectful distance between them.

she feels a flush of warmth at the knowledge that he is so pleased by her appearance, white lashes pressing together firmly over her milky eyes. she cringes inwardly at the mention of her gods, still worried that she had displeased them beyond redemption. what did that mean for her future? for his? eventually her chin lifts toward him, ivory-pink lips taut with the hint of a smile. you would praise the heavy chain around your ankle so? perhaps it is a good thing i was born without sight. your words would make me vain if i took them to heart abhibhaavak…

her mood is playful, emboldened by his presence, and so she takes a few daring steps toward the mouth of her shelter, following the sun as it trails away from her. though she cannot see the land open, she knows it is before her, vast and open unlike the canyon she hides in. it is apparent in the soft breeze that caresses her from all sides. her head lifts with flared nostrils, taking in the scents on the breeze and her playfulness dissipates. so many others scents mingled with the desert air, reminding her of the busy lives that rushed along while hers was paused forever here. somberness falls over her, followed by timidness… she turns back quickly, aching to replace the thoughts that had taunted her with something more pleasant... she could trust him perfectly to avoid any subject that might hurt her but her curiousity was much less trustowrthy. tell me of your life besides this place, Rigel? besides me, her heart speaks silently.