Fucking Away Frustration

I didn't know her name. I didn't ask. I didn't have to ask. She was a slave of the harigga. All my frustration. All my confusion. All my anger. All my sadness. The raw emotions. I poured them into her and fucked her until I felt empty inside, numb even. When we finished I slept. I slept restfully for the first time in several hands, without the plague of nightmares and constant "ponderings" the likes of which I would have never entertained before now.

When I awoke, I was surprised to find that she was still there. Still sleeping as soundly as she had been when I had fallen asleep with the occasional whimper or weary moan when she shifted her low limbs against the soft texture of my furs. I could not help but think that not long ago Yamka had slept there. I found myself wondering what she looked like when she slept without the fog of a head injury.

Did she snore?

Was she a fitful sleeper?

Did she move at all?

And Asria...what of Asria?

I couldn't imagine her snoring. Then again, I couldn't imagine...

FUCK!

I rolled over, turning my back on her to stare into the darkness of the wagon corner. It was the easiest thing to focus on for the first few minutes, but soon enough even the quiet in the wagon was not enough to calm the rapidly spinning wheels within my mind. I dressed and grabbed the skin of wine that I had won from a Hunter not too many nights past. I still cannot fathom why people doubt my ability in the saddle of a kaiila. I am, for lack of a better term, a trick rider. Sometimes I am more at home there than I am on my own two feet.

As I stepped outside of my wagon I recalled the tasks that I had been commanded to perform and scolded myself thoroughly for becoming so engulfed in my own emotions that I had forgotten to put my tribe first. I wondered what the warrior who had earned his scar must have been thinking. More importantly I had set my tribe back further than it should have been in organizing the herd for slaughter. My tribe. I have failed my tribe.

I was dismayed. I was furious. I was....lost.

Forgetting my own inner turmoil I returned to my wagon. Upon laying the wine skin aside I laid down in the furs next to the slave who, I assume sensed my proximity and rolled over. She yawned and slowly opened her weary eyes to stare at me for a time, her grin hidden as she pressed her face deeper into the furs.

"Is something wrong, Master?"

"No, slave." I said to her sharply.

I did not let her fall back into sleep. Instead, I pulled her into me and raped her without remorse or mercy. I am sure I marked her. I am sure I marked her thoroughly, but like a good slave she was gone come morning leaving only the smell in my furs.

It was not the same I know. But it was all I had...for now.

The question is...Do I need more?

The Code...

The problem with living a lie? Live it long enough and you begin to believe it. When I left the fire I return to my furs worn out and confused. The Code? What the fuck?! What the fuck does that really mean, Tasco?! The Code! I was furious with myself for not simply saying what should have been said in the beginning...I was even angrier for walking away from Yamka when she managed to catch onto what Tarra and Cana had only lightly touched with the tips of their fingers.

I lay in my furs staring up through an open flap to the skies above me. I started to chuckle. Quietly at first, until the sound filled my entire wagon so full the timbre of my own voice was not only heard but felt. I laughed so hard tears began to form in my eyes. I do not remember when I started to cry, whether it was before the tears started falling or after but when I finally realized that I had been weeping I covered my face and screamed into my own palms doing all that I could to stifle the sound and regain what composure I had left.

I sat up, wrapped my arms around my legs for a bit and drew my knees close to my chest. The scar upon my shoulder felt like it was on fire and I took myself back in time to a place before it was made. To a time...that changed my life forever. I recall how angry I was with father. He knew how I felt about her! He knew how she felt about me! But still he made the arrangement! Never before had my father I truly fought with one another, but fight we did. For days we fought and never did it do any good.

"I have you my name, Tasco. You will pass that on to another..."

"But I LOVE her!"

"And your love for her makes you weak! I will not have you weakened by this woman! What is done I have done for your own good!"

"Father...you can't do this...please!"

"It has already been done, Tasco. The price is paid."

That was the day that I was forced to create my code. That was the day I was forced to give up on love...on her. Not a day goes by that I do not question what my life might have been like. How it might have been different. It pains me. It will always pain me to see her in his arms, and though I know that she has grown to love him, I cannot help but think there is still a part of me she carries with her in her heart.

The Code is simple: .....

I cannot love another woman totally if part of me still loves her.

"Trips Postponed...Trips Overdue"

I would have liked to have visited them both immediately, however, I was unable to do. News of the move and my unpreparedness for it made such visits unacceptable and impossible. So I did what any Tuchuk warrior would do. I prepared not only myself, but those around me for the move to the north rumors of the lush greens that lay in wait were good for the spirits and further rumors of celebration were good for our hearts.

Tarran and I made it a point to tie what was left of our wagons and the wagons of our father together. It didn't take us long. It couldn't. Caravans were already underway and we hadn't yet seen to our herd or prepared them for our move. I felt like it was yet another impossible task facing both myself and my family. It wasn't impossible...it just cost us.

Tarran and I were part of the stragglers. Tarran would make that time up without effort, but I was given the task of staying behind to keep up with those like us and those who hadn't yet left. I did not complain. I was used to this task, and frankly, I was good at it. In the wake of my Tuchuk brothers it was easy to sweep up after them, to get that last look at the harigga before setting my sight on the greener pastures ahead of me. It wasn't hard to look ahead. It wasn't hard to turn a blind eye to the pain and suffering that we would be leaving behind. I could only hope that we will be returning to something better. Something new.

It went well, for a while. I worked hard. I kept my head down. But as the days go by I fell into the routine. I fell into my fathers train of thought and lost myself in the work that needed to be done instead of taking care of myself. The bosk-head shaped wound on my bicep began to ache and bleed. It felt infected. Eloia did the best she could for me, but she wasn't a healer. I knew this, but she did what she could for me with what she had available to her. If it wasn't for her I might have suspected this old arm of mine might have fallen off...but I'm managing. Soon and very soon, though, it will need tending.

Early afternoon came on another day and I had just stopped a wagon in which a woman of the tribe was going to be giving birth. I had taken many trips to the back of the wagons, however, this one seemed to irritate me, if only for a brief moment in time. I found myself wondering why she did not think to have her child before the trip, or better yet, when we arrived. Perhaps it was the fever beneath by bandaging, but I did manage to clear that thought from my head and was able to assist to tbe best of my ability until I was sent further backward to a wagon wheel breakdown that apparently was a little more than a wagon wheel breakdown, something like, a wagon wheel shattering...with casualties.

Ongel was already on the scene tending to Yamka and Seveya, both of whom had clearly been injured, Yamka more than Seveya, but blood could never be good regardless of where it was coming from, especially when it came from the head. The wheel was unrecognizable, splintered and shattered. Slaves were picking up the bits and pieces while Ongel attempt to keep Yamka from falling asleep for fear of a concussion or worse. Ash wasn't far behind, and while I did make an attempt to talk her through it, he was the one who dismounted and got right in her face with the question and answers.

Yamka would reveal more than necessary. While I will not go into it, it did involve myself and her feelings about me or toward me. Seveya did her best to curb Ash's question and answer session, but clearly Yamka was more than willing to tell all. It was suggested that I take her to a spare wagon. I had no spare wagon any longer, save for my own so I suggested that she be taken there. Seveya disapproved, and for good reason. However, I assured her there would be no smudge to Yamka's propriety and even suggested that her mother be notified of where to find Yamka and where. I knew that Noni would also look after her, and when Ongel stated that he would also be sending one of her personal slaves to tend to her aswell, I was convinced that she would be in good hands.

Both Ash and Ongel eased her into my saddle despite the protest of my arm and I managed to get her to where Tarran was still struggling to make up time. I called down to him to stop. He didn't seemed to heed my words at first. So I called out louder (which means I threw things) eventually he stopped, pulling out caravan off to the side and climbing down off the lead to help me reign in my kaiila and transport Yamka from the back of the kaiila and into my sleeping furs. She wasn't there for long before Noni came in and took over. I knew to stay out of the way, but I did not know that I would eventually be shoo'ed away from my own wagon, even when Ongel's slave came and went I wasn't permitted entrance. Again, it was a propriety thing, but it didn't much matter considering...it was MY wagon!

I busied myself with my work after taking a few cups of tea Eiola brewed for my pain after she proceeded to redress my wounds. It suited me fine, but I knew that a healer would have to tend to it, and I knew that from seeing burn wounds before that it would clearly need to be scrubbed.

I will seek out Ongel...soon. For now, there is work to be done.

"Healing, In and Out..."

I am healing well...on the outside. If you asked me, that is all anyone could ask of me. Then again, I realize more now than ever that it is not all about me. There is much suffering and much heartache here on the plains now. Many of lost, but that doesn't mean that they will dig a hole in the ground and bury themselves. They cannot. They will not. Not if they are Tuchuk!

Tarran came to me with that rousing speech, or something like it this morning and as musch as I still hurt and as much as I still hated him for it, I knew that he was right. Fucking prick! Still on a high because that little monster of his was born. It was a healthy boy with lungs worthy of a hunter maybe even a singer. I will admit that the child has kept me up on more than two occasions, but getting the opportunity to hold that small bundle in my arms was worth the few sleepless ahns.

"You are a father, Tasco."

"I am just good with children, Noni."

"All the more reason for you to have children."

"Not now, Noni. Not now."

Noni smiled softly and came forward enough to look over my shoulder and then touched the bandaging on my bicep.

"Your wound is healing, yes?"

The smile child began to slowly fall asleep and I was actually amazed at how hard the young boy struggled to keep his eyes open for as long as he did before succumbing to the sleep he most assuredly had cried himself into.

"Do you really think it is my time, Noni?"

She laughed softly and took the child from my arms. I heard it coo, and I heard a shift of just behind my shoulder meaning that Noni and I were not alone. Perhaps it was time for a feeding...then again, perhaps she too just wanted to come and check on her. I assumed that it was a motherly instinct that I couldn't ever truly understand. Sometimes I wondered if I ever really wanted to understand it.

Father had said once upon a time that it made him weaker, as a man. I don't know how true that was, for he has also said only a strong man can take unto his shoulders a family. I miss my father so much now. I fear I am going to cry again, but Noni is there. As is Tarran's woman, who despite her best efforts is trying to remain silent.

"Eloia, you do not always have to tip toe around me."

I laughed softly.

"Your child needs you more than he needs me. Trust and believe I might only do more damage than good."

She stepped in. She was a demure woman from whom I had only seen a few true moments of spit fire and flame. Those were always times worth watching so I knew that there was more to her that she put out there. I was pleased for this though, because my brother didn't need a woman who would allow him to push her over. Eloia was not that sort of woman. I prayed everyday that she was not.

"Tasco, you would do well to start a family. I think it would suit you."

I scoffed and then looked back at Noni.

"You put her up to this, didn't you?"

Eloia swept over toward the small makeshift crib to where her baby lay, checking to make sure the infant was sleeping well and soundly before turning to face me.

"I don't need to be put up to anything. Just watching you with Second Son just as I watched you with First Son. I have always said you would make a fine father...Tarran agrees."

"Tarran? He what?"

She nodded.

"You should talk to him Tasco. Despite the tone he takes with you he believes you are capable. He is your brother...and treats you the way he does because of the name you carry. It is your responsibility to pass that name along you realize?"

"He will, Eloia. In his own time."

"Thank you...Noni. In my own time."

They both laughed, quietly, so not to wake the child. Noni vanished to her own bed while Eiola remained behind.

"By the way...there was a young woman who came by. She left you stew and bread. She seemed to be very interested in how you were doing. Perhaps you should check on her. Let her know how you are. I am sure she'll want to know?"

I thought I had an idea of who it might have been, though, I still wasn't sure. So I thanked her for the information and asked about where the stew might have been. Upon finding that Tarran had eaten it in a rush to head out for patrols I smirked and laid back upon my bed to think. Had it been Yamka? Or had it been Asria? I did not know how Asria would know that I was here and I know that I had spoken to Yamka in my hurry at the stream. I would see them both. Either way, someone was reaching out and I thought finally...It was my turn to reach out aswell. I owed it to myself. I owed it to my family. More importantly, I owed it to my tribe.

I am healing...on the inside aswell.

"Oh and Tasco..." I heard the words before I heard and felt the sudden thump and growl buried so close to my face. It was Runt! He had survived, and I immediately felt a certain frustration for having not thought of him sooner.

"They found him under your wagons...he stayed there...the whole time. It was a fight to get him out. It probably saved his life."

I laughed and held up the small sleen to get a good look at him. His fur was slightly singled and mottled and he looked hungry, but his eyes were still bright and he was excited to be close to me.

"Thank you, Eloia. You are a good woman to my brother."

"I know, Tasco. Sleep tonight. We're putting you out tomorrow."

I laughed. She did not. Part of me wasn't surprised. I had my own wagons to and finally...I was ready to leave and face the hardships that faced my people head on.

"The Days After...The Days Ahead"

I cannot get clean enough. I cannot rest enough. I still smell the smoke. I still taste it on my tongue. My body aches beyond belief and I still have burns that haven't been properly treated.

I would like to say that my efforts are wholly unselfish, but I cannot. I would like to say that I have done it all for my tribe. This would be a lie. I mean...I am a Tuchuk, first and foremost. But father is still missing and the longer I take to find him the harder I push myself to do anything and everything I can to find him. The blessing? There are men, women, and children who benefit from my efforts. So all is not lost.

Yamka was the first outside of my family to know that father had not been found. I was cleaning the dirt and sweat from my body when I noticed her there by the stream. She wanted to comfort me. She even made an effort to embrace me, but I turned away from her. I sincerely hope she realizes that it had nothing to do with her presence for I realize that I cannot avoid her. It had only to do with the fact I was not fully clothed and I had no intention of sullying her reputation. She has earned that level of respect in my eyes. She said that I should sleep, but I returned to the clean up efforts with a newfound vigor. It was only when I got desperate that I asked around and made an effor to find someone that could point me in the right direction.

With the same name on everyones lips, it was late one evening that I sought out Tarra at her wagons. She, like Noni, was sitting on the steps of her wagon almost as if she had expected me to be there. She too could see the weariness that weighed heavily upon me, but her words of concern fell on a deaf ear as I made it a point to ask if she knew where I could find my father. If I would find him. She took the knife he had given me as a boy and cradled it in her hands. They were tattooed with stranged symbols and designs the likes of which I know that I will never have any understanding of. If I was more myself, I would have made it a point to let her know just how attractive I found them...but her next few words excited me as much as they perplexed me.

She said that I would be the one to find him. She also told me where it was that I should be looking. I was thankful for her, I hope she knew it. If she didn't it was because I left so fast that I didn't have time to voice my appreciation. With revived energy I ran from her wagons to the trenches she had mentioned and into the area that she had described. The tribe had been dragging debris here, clearing it away from the harigga so the healing could begin properly. I wandered through it all for ahns. I spend much of the night out there and each time I felt like giving in I remembered the promise I made to Noni.

Shortly before sunrise I sat down beneath a tree that had only partially survived the fires that swept across the plains. One side had been charred black while the other struggled to survive. I found myself praying for rain in those moments of weariness, but my prayers were cut short each time I felt myself slipping in and out on consciousness. How long has it been since I've slept?

"Tuchuk? Tuchuk?!" I was being shaken from my slumber suddenly. The sun was up, and I found myself staring into the eyes of two more scarred warriors whose faces seemed as shocked to see me come around as I was to see them standing before.

"We thought you were..."

"I'm not."

"What are you doing out here?"

"I am looking for my father?"

"He's not out here. Only debris from wagons and such..."

"He's here. She said he would be here."

"Who sai---"

"He's here!"

I snapped at them both and sighed. I had no mind about me to apologize though I probably should have, I had only one goal in mind. Finding my father. I continued my search for what seemed like forever, until I finally broke down and began to weep next to a tattered wagon that looked so fragile and burned that I was afraid to touch it for fear of it crumbling and blowing away on a breeze.

I circled it a few times for reasons I cannot explain and found myself looking over the edge into the scorched belly that had once upon a time been someones home. There was a body there. It was so tightly wrapped in skins one had to wonder the reason for it.

"That one never made it out.."

"Huh?"

Another Tuchuk came to stand by my side, resting his weight upon a spade that he had been using, possibly to dig the trenches deeper.

"Yeah, they brought the wagon in with the body inside...looked like someone had him on a pyre and then took him again. We wrapped him up..outta respect for him, ya know...feel bad for him...ain't no one come to claim him."

I looked back at the wrapped figure and rested my fingers on the edge of the wagon. The wood broke beneath the weight of my fingers and a few of the charred splinters buried themselves into my palms.

"Unwrap him..."

"What?"

"You heard me."

The Tuchuk looked at me as if I'd grown seven heads. I looked right through him and nudged my head toward the wagon. Clearly he was reluctant, but he cut the binding just above the should and stepped back allowing me to unwrap the layers of hide that had been placed around him.

I worked slowly for fear this might not be him, but something inside me knew that Tarra would not lead me on a wild goose chase. There was something in her eyes. The deeper I got, the hides started to be stained with flesh, blood, and soot while the smell of seared flesh immediately swirled into my nostrils and threatened to suffocate me while I stood there.

I didn't need to look long. I want to. That was not the wagon I wanted to remember him. If I am ever asked how I knew that I was him, I would not and could not say. But I knew. There was no doubt in my mind. Consider it a bond shared between a Man and his Father. The old man never made it out. From the looks of it, he knew nothing of the fire burning all around him.

After a few tears and a deep breath, I rewrapped his face and began pulling the charred wood away from the now shallow wagon. The Tuchuk was speaking to me I think. He was telling me something and asking me other things. I did not care to listen, I had an agenda that would not be put off. When I felt that I could take the figure into my arms properly, I hefted it off the wagon and cradled his lifeless form against my chest. The immediate buckling of my legs drew the Tuchuk and another who had gathered to watch to my side but I shrugged them off, and willed myself upright.

I wept the whole way back. Not simple tears, but cries of agony the likes of which I will never cry again I feel. When I arrived at Tarran's wagon Noni had a few children gathered around his steps reading them stories while Tarran looked on with his mate tucked under his arm, her belly still swollen with the child she carried. Tarran was the first to hear me, but Noni was the first to see. I could feel the lost look in her eyes into my own heart. Even Tarran began to weep as he moved in and took father the rest of the way for I could carry him no further. Noni immediately went to Father's side while Tarran's mate rounded up the children and ushered them away.

"I brought him back..."

I wept. I could feel all of it in those moments. The pain of loss. The weight of weariness. The sting of burns, cuts, and splinters untreated. It was more than even I could bear in that moment.

"I promised...I would bring him back."

And everything went dark. When I awoke it was night. My would had been tended and properly dressed and somewhere in the darkness I could hear Noni humming a song she used to hum to me when I was a young boy. A single tear slipped from my eyes still stinging from the abuse of smoke. I covered them. I didn't want to open them. I didn't want Noni to see me cry, but I wept uncontrollably to which Noni only spoke from the shadows.

"It is okay to weep, Tasco."

She continued to hum. And I...I managed to stifle my tears and stared into the black above me. I have cried enough in the days after...there are so many more days ahead.
I am Tasco the Scarrer, son of Tasco the Scarrer and I am...the only.

"Fire Burns.."

I was in the middle of it wall when my eyes were opened suddenly to the trauma all around me. I do not know where exactly I had gone in that moment, but I knew that I wasn't in the present. I had not realized that I had been burned, nor did I realize that I had ben bleeding. My lungs and eyes burned from the dense clouds of smoke rising upward into a unforgiving sky and everywhere you turned the screams and frantic faces of the Tuchuk tribe were all you could see amidst the burning grass and wagons. We were fighting. Fighting to maintain not only our lives but for our way of life. We were fighting to preserve our home.

What brought me back?

"Tasco!"

The voice struck me like lightning cutting through a stormy sky. It was then that I felt the small hands of children clinging at my calves and thighs. Their grips, individually nothing more than an attention grabber, as a group threatened to cut off the circulation. I had to shift to keep the blood flowing and between frantic twists and turns of my head as I sought out the safest path through the rows, I reassured them despite my own unsurity. The infant in my arms began to wail. I wanted to wipe the tears from its eyes but feared getting anymore soot upon that chubby round face than was already there. I had to find Noni's wagon! These children would undoubtedly be safer with her than with me. But everything looked the same. Charred. Mangled. The children began to cough and so did I. I had to move!

"Tasco!"

There it was again and I turned just in time to sweep the children away from a wagon wheel that went rolling as the whole mass caved in on itself. Above their gasps I clapped my hands and herded them like bosk toward the direction in which I heard to voice call my name.

"This way! Hurry!"

I covered the child in my arms and waded through the middle of the group as we moved as fast as a group of children and one man could move through the burning rows and I used only the voice to guide me. I did not recognize it at first...the more and more it spoke the more I began to realize that it was my father that I heard. I began to worry for him and knew that I would have to seek him out, along with my brother and his mate. She was ripe with child now and would bear her child soon. I said a prayer for her and her child as we passed by a woman who seemed to be sleeping on the steps of her wagon.

"Are we gonna stop, Tasco!"
"She's asleep!"
"You gotta help her, Tasco!"

"No! Keep moving! Now!"

I screamed. I should not have been so short with them, but it was clear that I knew something that they did not. I ask myself if I had to do it again would I have gone back to check on her? Would I have stopped to check for a pulse? I decided that I wouldn't have. I couldn't have. For if I had...

"Tasco!"

It was not my father's voice now, but it was Noni's. She was calling to me from a wagon that had been soaked down and was set to pull out of the harigga and head to safety. I ran to her and pointed the children in the right direction. My brother's face was the next face I saw, and then his woman's. They were alive!

"Where is father?"

I asked Noni directly turning to look at Tarran, my eldest sibling, who was lifting children one by one into the wagon.

"Tarran? Is father with you."

"No. I couldn't get to his wagon in time. You have to find him, Tasco. His wagon is gone, but he was helping the women of his fires that had no man. They aren't far....you can find him if you hurry."

I stared at Noni who reached out and plucked the small child from my arms leaving them empty and suddenly quite achy.

"Go, Tasco. Your responsibility is to your tribe. Your father will find you."

Noni's words were slightly troubling, but she had not seen him. I found myself clinging to Tarran's confirmation rather than adhering to the wisdom of my Noni. I was concerned for father, but there was much that needed to be done and despite my naturally selfish tendencies I put them aside and assisted Tarran get the last of the children into the wagon.

"Take my kaiila, Tasco! It's not safe on foot. When the women and children are safe I will come back!"

I nodded to Tarran and swung up into the saddle of Tarran's tawny beast. It took me a moment to wrestle the female into submission, but when I had I made it a point to head back the same way that I came to both look for stragglers and throw myself into the next task.

"I will bring him back to you, Noni."

She smiled. The smile was weak, but I took it at face value. How could anymore smile during this. I disappeared into the flames and threw myself into the fray offering my strength and leadership in any and everyway I possibly could. It wasn't until early morning that the Tuchuk tribe who remained to fight took control of the flames and by the rising of the sun we had managed to tame the wide-spread inferno into several large contained fires.

Where the herds had been and once grazed the grasses were charred black. Wagon wreckage littered open plains and everywhere the sobs and groans of heartbroken and weary Tuchuk men, women, and children filled the ears. I dipped my chin and wiped the sweat away from my brow further smearing the layers of caked dirt and soot upon my skin. It would be a long while before the herds could once more feed off land that had once upon a time been so lush and fertile. I have heard the hunters are already searching for game and the wagon masters for wood. We as a tribe must rebuild our stores to prepare for the great move that is soon upon us.

My eyes and lungs burn. My wounds are beginning to warm. I haven't slept and cannot sleep for I am consumed. I hear the cries of my tribe and it pains me...more importantly I hear the voice of my father.

I must find him.

"Avoidance..."

I have been avoiding Yamka for the time being. I am not trying to be cruel, but I will admit that I am not sure where my head is. I love women. I have always loved women. However, my appreciation for women does not usually expand beyond the physical...and any emotional nuances that come with...well...fucking. Of course as we all know that wears off when the hard on goes soft. For the man at least.

I wouldn't be any kind of man, however, if I did not admit that a woman has managed to chip a small piece away from me and even though I wouldn't call our conversation the longest one I have ever had I will admit that she made me appreciate that small amount of time we spent with one another staring at the stars above from our place among the herds.

When she asked me a question, I answered. She did not attempt to talk over me or rationalize what I was saying. She simply let me say it and then provided her own thoughts on the matter. I respected her for this. Many women with presume they know the mind of a man when in fact what they know is nothing at all.

She asked me to paint an image for her and when I asked her to close her eyes she did not hesitate. She does not know me well, but, I will imagine she did so because she trusts me...or at least, she wants to trust me. She wanted to know what a woman was to me. So I spelled it out for her as my father had taught and spelled it out for me. A herlit. A sleen. A kaiila. A woman is all three in one package. A good woman must be all of these, for if she is not how then can she be found desireable, or useful for that matter.

For the first time I have found this woman to be desirable, but in the same turn of events I have come to appreciate our friendship. And so...I avoid her. It is too early for me to begin burning bridges here at the Ubars fires and I don't know if I am prepared to care for a woman in a way that it is becoming more and more obvious that perhaps she would like to care for me.