by J. H. Hayes
Before she could ask for more, the first man pulled her back, pouring another sip into her cup and pushing it to her lips. While watching her, he addressed his friend, "This filly’s fist doesn't want your foul fill. Here foal, taste mine. It's thick and fully fills."
While the crowd clapped their thighs and erupted again in guffawing roars, Azaria looked from one man to another, confused, and annoyed in the rude way they were involving her in their bizarre and seemingly ongoing argument.
"Fawst's may be thick, but few find it fills full," the second, better looking man was countering, pulling her over again and filling the bottom of her cup, "His fill is fat, but far from fulfilling." The crowd's howl, not yet quieted from his partner's previous remark, rose up again.
"Don't take his swill, dear foal," the first man addressed her once more, pulling her toward him yet again and tipping his bag briefly into her cup. "Filling fists is my fuel. When I fill, you'll feel it fully."
"OHHhhhh!!!" the crowd yelled, many slapping their thighs in tribute to the clever rebuttal.
Azaria stared back from the first man to the second, growing more confused with each twisting word that came from their mouths, the crowd's bewilderingly appreciative reaction and the accumulated amount of poison she had abruptly consumed. Her head was spinning trying to understand. "I'm feeling fuzzy..." she remarked.
Both men stepped back in merry shock and then tipped their own cups to her. "All ears, a filler!" the second man shouted to the crowd, his wide smile lighting up his chiseled face. The growing mass howled in approval.
"A finer fill we have not found, this fowl," the first man exclaimed, holding his bag of poison above his head in celebration.
"Full tongue this filly finds, how fulfilling!" the second man agreed.
"Ha! And when your fell fowl tongue feels my fill, full will you find yourself feeling, my foal," the second man declared.
The crowd howled again in appreciation of the foreign mens' back and forth while Azaria reddened, finally realizing just what the men were really referring to. Her head was still spinning with the unusual entertainers’ dialogue and the succession of quick sips.
Just then, Yumineh managed to break through the wall, landing on her feet next to Azaria. Seeing the two men with full bags, she held both arms out - one hand holding her own cup and the other Tiriz's - and gazed expectantly up at them, flashing a brilliantly playful, pleading smile.
"A two-fisted foal!" the first man exclaimed, beside himself in delight.
"No foal! A flower!" the second man yelled, clearly just as excited as his partner.
"What a rare find! Two fists for full filling," the first man continued.
Yumineh backed up a step, startled by the unexpected reception. She felt the crowd on her back and hands driving her forward. The two men surrounded her, one on each side. Each put an arm around her and with their other hands poured a few drops from their bags into her waiting cup-wielding fists.
"Gentle flower! You claim your fallow fists can handle two fillers fully, dun fawn?" the first man asked, pushing his offering up to her mouth.
"Umm... I guess so..." Yumineh answered after tasting his poison, not remembering claiming anything. With the attention off her, Azaria stepped back and laughed with the rest of the crowd, enjoying the wordplay now that someone else was squirming for a change.
"A brave filly, this foal!" the second man announced to the crowd, laughing with them. "Then with fealty will I fill your fresh fist." As the first man had done, he poured a sip into Yumineh's second fist and gently directed her cup to her mouth.
"No! Drink my fill, dear foal. Don't fall for his foolish fill. It's not fit for a dun fawn," the first man argued, pouring more of his poison into her cup. "I'll fill your fist with my fat fill. Delight would your full fallow lips, feeling my fill."
The crowd exploded again in approval, everyone slapping their thighs and guffawing. It was all too much for Yumineh however, and after downing her fifth sip, she shook the men off, looking like she was ready to smash her cupped fists into their heads. But before she could, three more girls crashed into the center of the group, right behind her, almost sending her to the ground.
"Fell Mother! Three more foals!" the second man boomed.
"No, Forsis! A pride of five fe-lions do fill my eyes," the first man exclaimed.
"Five, Fawst!? How many fe-lions must we fell before we fully fill this full fest?" Forsis, the second man asked in mock exasperation.
"We'll fill what we must, without fear or fight," the first man announced. "But fe-lions not, kittens more, I find."
"Kittens then," Forsis began anew. "Purr will I make these perfect-"
Azaria interrupted him suddenly. She'd seen enough and decided to fill their cups and get them out of there, realizing why Aisika's father had warned her to stay away. She suspected one could find themselves under their magical influence very quickly and eventually in a compromised position. She jumped between the fillers and the new arrivals and pleaded, "Fine fillers! Please just fully fill our fists." She held her cup out to them, hopeful they'd respond politely to the direct request.
But the fillers retreated backward in shock, their faces painted over with faux offense, protectively cradling their still full bags to their chests in exaggerated fashion.
"Fowl filler foils our filling, Forsis!"
"Folly, Fawst! And free filling she foresees!!"
"Free filling, Forsis!? But how offensive?"
"Free, I fear. This foul kitten must not know..."
"Not free! But would kisses suffice, Forsis?" Fawst asked his friend, eyeing Azaria expectantly, his lips puckered in an exaggerated pose. The crowd was laughing hysterically at the turn of events.
He wasn't the one Azaria would have preferred to grant a kiss to in exchange for a full fill, but the price was clear. Yumineh was staring at her curiously, comprehending enough now to understand what was being asked. She wondered if Azaria would go through with it. The other three girls still had no idea what was going on, but knew what was being asked of their friend. Daneel smiled mischievously, sure her friend wouldn't comply. But then again, Azaria had surprised her in the past.
"Kiss! Kiss!" the crowd encouraged, it's roar growing louder with each chant.
Without hesitating, Azaria stepped forward and gripped Mawst's chin, leaning into him to place her lips on his. The crowd thundered its approval, while each of her friends' jaws dropped. Azaria kissed him for a long moment before breaking away. While Fawst brought his arm across his brow in an exaggerated fake swoon, Azaria grabbed his bag and tipped it into her cup until it was full. Then she turned to her four friends, "If it's a full fill you fallow fawns want, a fully free kiss you must now forfeit."
While the crowd roared again in awed appreciation and the two fillers laughed heartily and bowed to her, Azaria raised her full fist into the air and made her way through the opening the adoring mass had formed.
After their escape, the four girls joined Azaria at the edge of the growing group of dancers, giggling about the strange men they'd just met and sipping their full cups.
"Who were those men?" Yumineh asked, each of her fists filled to the brim.
"They're fillers," Daneel answered. "They wander from camp to camp, entertaining in exchange for food, shelter and poison."
"Among other comforts, I think," Ilaya added, giggling with Aisika.
Not too long after, Azaria noticed Dogahn and Tiriz strolling over.
"Hey, where've you guys been?" Aisika asked.
"Don't even ask," Dogahn answered.
"We were trying to find something to drink," Tiriz grumbled, "but it's all controlled by creepy old guys and they don't want to hand it out to anyone without a big pair of breasts."
The girls giggled in response to his complaint. "Stay with us,” Daneel said. “We can get you more. Even you Tiriz, if you're nice."
"Thanks!" Tiriz said, sounding appreciative. "We finally managed to get a guy to pour by promising we'
d set him up with some girls. He even let me borrow an extra cup." He shot an annoyed glance at Yumineh.
"What!?" the five shocked girls all exclaimed in near unison.
"Don't worry," he continued with a laugh. "We don't even know the girls we pointed to. We just waved at them and smiled. When they waved back, the guy believed us and was quick to fill our fists."
"Really?" Daneel asked, impressed by their ruse, even while not completely approving of the tactic.
"Yeah," Dogahn said proudly. "He's probably good for another round, if we play him right."
"Well, don't mess with him too much," Ilaya advised. "He might not be too happy when he finds out you can't produce what you promised."
"I'm not too worried about it," Dogahn said with a bit of braggadocio, putting his arm around Azaria. "He's feeling the sting already. He probably won't even remember us later."
"Okay! Enough chatter, let's dance!" Daneel commanded, tired of standing around.
Almost everyone seemed up for it, including even Dogahn, but Tiriz was resistant. "Uhh... No, I’m too full," he said.
"Oh come on, Tiriz," Daneel urged, tugging his arm. "If you don't dance with us, we're not going to get you any poison."
Azaria put an arm through Tiriz's other arm and her second through Dogahn's, and prodded him further. "Besides Tiriz, don't you know how impressed all the other girls are going to be when they see you dancing with five beautiful girls?"
Tiriz looked like he was considering her point.
"Yeah Tiriz, you're going to be the most popular guy of the night when we're through with you. Dogahn's going to dance with us, right Dogahn?" Aisika said, taking Dogahn's other hand.
Tiriz still looked uncomfortable, but in the end was left with little choice. The girls literally dragged him out into the crowd of dancers, Ilaya and Aisika rubbing up against him. It didn't take any more encouragement than that. Soon the seven friends were in the middle of the crowd, spinning and gyrating rhythmically to the drums and wind instruments. After a short while Tiriz was having the night of his life, although he'd never have admitted to it. He'd never given in to the dancing before, always standing back watching jealously as other men rubbed their bodies up against the girls he wanted to be dancing with. Now he had four to himself, as Dogahn and Azaria were content dancing with each other. Soon Malena and Azul joined them, raising their energy levels even further.
As they frolicked about, many young men attempted to join them, offering to fill their cups with various draughts to help their cause. Because they were so clearly associated with the beautiful young women, Dogahn and Tiriz had little trouble getting their fists filled further. Ilaya, Daneel, Yumineh and Aisika consented to dancing with some of them - especially as the poison they drank continued to take effect - but they stayed close to the group and broke off from the men when their hands got a little too adventurous or their suggestions a little too explicit. Dogahn, determined not to drink in excess while he was with Azaria, kept a close eye on his friends. More than once he helped Ilaya and Aisika with particularly aggressive suitors.
As the evening matured, he and Azaria tried more than once to sneak away, but Daneel was on to them and made sure to block all their attempts. After a fourth failed effort, Dogahn grew frustrated. "We need to feed her more poison," he suggested.
Azaria laughed. "I don't know about that. Look how she's dancing. She looks like a three-legged dog. Why is this so difficult?" she asked, holding onto him for support. Her cup also had been kept full by the steady stream of suitors and she was feeling the effects. While they laughed together at their own misfortune, two men approached who Dogahn recognized as respected Boar Camp hunters. He initially thought their path towards them was only coincidental. They were more highly regarded than the suitors that had been bothering them and he didn't expect them to try to court the inexperienced girls.
"Dogahn!" the shorter man addressed him with a commanding voice.
"Jochan!" Dogahn attempted to sound equally confident. "How are you?"
Azaria turned around as Dogahn greeted him, and saw the two men who had carried her back on her run from the Great Temple. "Jochan! Brutim!" she squealed as she jumped at them. "How are you? Are you enjoying yourselves?"
"Fine, Azaria. It's nice to see you again. But I’d enjoy myself much more if I could have that dance you promised me," Jochan said with a convincing smile.
"I did promise you a dance, didn't I?" she said with a sheepish smile before looking uncomfortably to Dogahn, who was standing next to her with his chest suddenly thrust forward. "Dogahn, Jochan and Brutim carried me back when I was returning with mother's medicine, and barely able to walk. I wouldn’t have made it by myself. Father and I asked them what they wanted in payment, but they both refused. When I asked again, Jochan said he'd like to share a dance tonight and of course I was more than happy to promise him one. You don't mind, do you?"
"Uhh, no... of course not," Dogahn stammered. He felt his face reddening and wondered if perhaps he’d consumed more poison than he'd accounted for. Whatever the reason, he didn't like that Azaria had promised Jochan a dance and knew it showed. The fact made his blush darken even further.
"Thank you," Azaria said, squeezing his hand. "Brutim, I have someone for you, too." She grabbed Daneel's hand and dragged her over, nearly pulling her tipsy friend to the ground. "Daneel, you know Brutim. Brutim, Daneel loves to dance!"
"Hi!?" Daneel smiled up at the large man, looking a bit bewildered, but happy for the pairing with the big, muscular hunter nonetheless.
"Come on Daneel, let's dance!" Azaria pulled her further into the crowd before she could object - although she had a feeling she wouldn't - with Brutim and Jochan right behind.
Brutim, more than pleased with the pretty, curvaceous match, lifted Daneel up and spun her around. "Aaahhhhhh," Daneel screamed in delight. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on even after he set her back down.
Jochan was much less aggressive, aware Azaria's young male friend was looking on uncomfortably. He knew the two had grown up together and that recently their relationship was developing into something more. But he wasn't sure how far it had come yet. He wasn't afraid of the budding young hunter by any means, but didn't wish to offend the boy. He was taken with the beautiful, young daughter of Boar Camp's Second Ta'araki, and hoped to win her from the young man before a lasting bond was forged, but was intent to do so his way, with dignity and respect. He was also aware her Ta'araki father was standing just at the fringe of the bonfires, keeping a watchful eye on his daughter and her friends.
---
Azerban stood by himself at the edge of the festival revelers, his gaze systematically wandering across the crowd, often pausing to linger on Azaria and her troupe. As Ta'araki, it was his charge to ensure everyone behaved themselves and to come to the rescue of anyone who needed assistance. He was well aware of the activities some of the of-age Natu were engaging in. Most chose a quiet spot out of view for their encounters, but some enjoyed being watched and indulged their desires well in sight of the general crowd. There were no rules barring them from doing so and it was not frowned upon. If they wanted to honor the Great Mother in front of everyone else, it was their right to do so. Some even chose to engage each other right in the thick of the dancing mass.
As he took in the night's many sights, he was not unaware of how aroused he was. He wished Zephia was well enough to couple with. He only briefly entertained the idea of accepting one of the many offers from the women who occasionally approached him, an act well within his right. In fact, Zephia had encouraged him to do so. Make sure you get your fill, Azerban! Those were her exact words and they were still fresh in his head, knowing them to be sincere. As the night went on, his desire grew and he found himself taking her advice more seriously. Perhaps I should lay off the poison for a while, he thought. I should go and see her. Just as he made to leave, he heard a raspy voice from behind.
"Jochan seems to fancy her."
Azerba
n sighed, knowing who had spoken. "Yes, I think you're right. But she has an eye for the boy," he said.
"It may just be a passing interest," Fahim said, standing next to him. "You know how the young can be."
"Of course, you may be right. But they’ve been close their entire lives. I think it's more than that."
"Perhaps so. He may make a good match for her, but then again, Jochan has already proven himself."
"Hmmph. Since when do you take such interest in the fleeting interests of children?" Azerban asked.
"I take interest in all my children," Fahim answered, with an air of offense. "Especially those of my Second."
Azerban remained silent, not wishing to pursue the thread he had started.
"How is Zephia?" she asked, aware he didn't wish to discuss the topic any further.
"Stable. Still weak."
"Ahhh. Well, trust in the Ta'ar."
"Yes. I know," he remarked quietly. "I don't suppose you’ve thought of any other tricks."
"It's up to the Ta'ar now, Azerban. I've done all I can. I don't need to tell you how serious her illness is. Either she recovers or she doesn't."
"Yes, well-"
She interrupted him, "Actually, it is about that which I wanted to talk to you."
He stood silent for a moment and Fahim waited for him. "About what?" he finally asked.
"The Equinox is coming. We must prepare for the ritual."
"What of the ritual?" he asked pointedly, turning to face her.
"You know of what I speak," she answered, declining to face him and instead continuing to watch the crowd, sweeping her gaze across the fluid mass. "The Ta'ar demand a worthy sacrifice. Your mate’s fate may well rest on it."
"A worthy sacrifice," he repeated. "So then we are going back to the original tradition." He turned from her, casting his attention back to his daughter. He watched Jochan whisper into her ear and Azaria giggle in response.
"We have always honored the original tradition, and will continue to do so. It is only a matter of the subject," Fahim replied.
"A buck then. I agree completely," Azerban said, attempting a degree of finality.