Boundless

Of Disgust and Disquiet

"Mother, are you ok?"

Kay'ja snapped her head in the voice's direction, reflexively. And frowned upon finding Dry'an'da, one of her oldest daughters, looking back at her, some puzzlement to her features.

"What's the matter?" The Matriarch's tone came out way harsher than originally intended.

"It's..." Dry'an'dra hesitated for a second. "Mother, I don't intend to pry, but you seem... off today. I came here to check if you wanted to join us for breakfast, but you didn't hear me the first time I called."

Nor noticed you approaching me, the Ancient Matriarch though, shaking her head slightly. Now that her mind was back to the present moment, she could even smell what they had set on the communal table.

At Kay'ja's advanced age, guiding the family would have been her role, if not for the fact she was the head of the whole Clan - spending time with her family was a privilege she could barely afford.

Unlike males, females led intense social lives.

Most would roam between residences, spending several months or even years under a certain roof before moving on to the next place.

Such practices allowed females to keep both strong bonds with multiple groups and extended family, as well as avoid mental stagnation.

Each communal home usually had a handful of Ancients running the place, mediating conflicts and ensuring each and all individuals under their care stayed productive members of their clan.

(And even controlling Kay'ja could appreciate not being in charge every once in a while).

"I will be down in a minute, Dry'an'dra", she answered with a sigh.

The daughter's white tresses spilled down her shoulders once she nodded. They were both old, but Kay'ja still remembered the energetic child Dry'an'dra had once been, and the dutiful mother she had grown into, and the immense pride once her child became a pediatrician, a role she was still praised for.

"Dry'an'dra", she called after the elder after a minute, watching as she turned back to answer.

"Yes, mother?"

"Do you remember Ah'kaedh?"

"Ah'kaedh, son of Ah'shka?" Ah'kaedh's paternal aunt grinned, knowing exactly which Ah'kaedh her mother was talking about. "Of course I remember him, mother, why?"

"What do you make of him?"

Dry'an'dra blinked at the question, uncertain. "Is this about the recent rumors?"

"Yes and no," Kay'jah watched as her child's expression changed.

"I don't keep in touch with many of my brothers' sons, mother," the Pediatrician offered a neutral answer.

"I'm aware," the Ancient answered.

At once Dry'an'dra knew that she was not talking to 'Kay'ja, the mother' or "Ah'kaedh's doting grandmother" anymore, but with the 'Matriarch of the Talon'.

"Quiet as a youngling. Kept to himself", the female's trailed off, pensive.

Dry'an'dra was not one to pursue relationships with individuals outside of matriline bounds, but as a Pediatrician she had known many of her brothers, uncles, and male cousins' children.

(Not out of disinterest, but the female had a soft spot for sucklings, and her hearts would have given out long ago with heartbreak had she got attached to so many more younglings, just to one day mourn their passings).

And while such intentional detachment had served her well, the Pediatrician's memory was one of her strong characteristics - and certain children, blood-related or not, sure left a mark on it for one reason or another.