[Gitana Chumomisto]

And thus, two divvus later, after the two kumpanias had circled and settled after a long divvus of travel, Gitana stood with the long length of green and yellow scarf held between her fingers, dipping slightly towards the ground in its centers. Some of the barbs had come loose since she'd begun wearing it, but having no idea how to fix it, Gitana had simply let them be and had merely been careful when fixing it about her waist.

Simza, too, wore hers about her waist, but she kept hers wrapped as she greeted Gitana. The pair had not seen much of one another that brightening for Gitana had been busy with her prala and dadrus, occasionally also her pena, tending to various tasks in the vardo or escaping from the rest of the kumpania on the bck of Kizzy. What Simza had been up to Gitana had no idea and knew only that now the woman was there to teach her something she had been wishing to learn these past moons.

"Your eyes do not dik so bright this divvus, Tana. It is misto I call you that, avrah? Your dadrus named you thus when I spoke with him at the yog." The woman set her hands on her hips, just above the barbed scarf that draped there. She had that calm, confidence to her that Gitana envied somewhat. This was a woman content in her life, knowing of who she was and the expectations not only of those around her, but also from herself.

Gitana had the good grace to blush a little at the comment about her eyes. She rubbed her cheeks a little, aware that she had been feeling the tease of spirits the night around the fire. "Much refreshed this divvus, rawnie," Gitana conceded, grinning nonetheless. "And Tana is fine. Most call me such anyway."

"And Blackbird, I hear." Simza grinned, shrugged with a slight gesture of her hands. "I will call you Tana. And you, you may call me Simza, avrah? None of this 'rawnie' nonsense. Now, you are here to learn, avrah? Let us start then."