#thread.zaya

This time of year, Vanathi was most grateful to have been named the Vaanii, to have been able to fight alongside those who had died for the same thing she had died for. But also those who had died alongside her grandfather. A moment to remember the lives lost. The first years she’d done it, she’d felt horrible, remembering all the people she hadn’t been able to save, and how unfair it was that she got to survive while they perished. 

Now, she was glad she was alive to remember them. 

She’d left many offerings where she could, made food, written letters. 

Now she was tired but content. Taking a seat at the edge of town, opening a bag of food to nibble on she noted another figure nearby coming out of the forest. Her eyes instantly caught on - beautiful - and she smiled. “Hello! I have not seen you before, I think, are you coming to visit Destarin, settling down? Or do you have a nice little hut in the forest?”

Yazi had thrown his all into this matter of becoming a more responsible person. He’d asked advice from the most unlikely sources: his colleagues at the tavern. Half of them were women, half were men, some identified as something completely different, but they all agreed: he should court Zaya. Show her he was interested and he was willing to put in the effort. 

He’d spend over a week arranging it all, carefully planning things, writing it down, practicing, committing it all to memory, and creating a cheat sheet - he was going to need it.

So now he believed he was ready, standing outside their cottage in the woods in a white embroidered suit that he’d found on sale - and hassled the price off even further. His two footer hands were sweaty, and he looked over the little note in his hand again. Before pocketing it and stepping inside. 

“I wish to take you out to a fancy restaurant and stroll through town in the moonlight!” he proclaimed. It was overcast outside, but he hadn’t understood the phrase to begin with.