by the campfire's light (OPEN, NC-17)

[auroranightshade]

Aurora pulled at his costume, frowning. It was an import, smuggled from Earth and expensive. One of his past... dalliances... thought it an appropriate gift. As warm as Zerca was, always, and with the additional heat of the bonfire, it was true that Aurora would never get cold. But. He had been a pleasure slave, a true pleasure slave, until the tribe bought him and the Chief's bearer partner gave him his freedom.

As easy, and as often, as he laughed that time off as nothing more than 'free food,' which, in essence, for his Incubus half, it was... it also had much ugliness and many nightmarish aspects that still left his psyche wounded and scarred.

He hated the stupid outfit, called a 'harem boy outfit' or something along those lines. It was thin, diaphanous material in a glittery rainbow pattern that was all but transparent, and the top and the most intimate areas of the bottom were covered in chains, coins, and jewels - providing the only modesty the outfit had to offer. Aurora would have preferred outright nudity to this.

The vexing thing was, until he had been told what it was, and what it was meant to represent, it had been his favorite gift he had ever been given. But, how could he do anything but hate it now, knowing as he did, this symbolized slavery as much as the shackles and collar that he once bore? Even the medbox could not remove scars once they were already there, and Aurora spent extra care to cover his on his wrists, ankles, and neck, always hiding the signs of what he once was.

What was the point of hiding it if he was just going to put on something like this and flaunt it about anyway? He bit his lower lip, conflicting emotions and thoughts once more leaving him hesitating leaving his tent for the bonfire in the costume.

Hearing the Chief call, he put aside his indecision, and left. He was the most popular entertainer, and it was time for him to go and dance. He gracefully strode past the musicians and singers, towards the other dancers, bowing his head to the Chief as he did so.

It was time. If he was lucky, tonight's performance would attract him a new 'snack' for his Incubus half - it had been nearly a month since he last fed his 'baser' nature. If not, it would be no great loss, however. He was not starved yet.

It had been a blessing when he learned feeding his Zercan self, especially his cat form, raw meat could stretch how long he could go without 'snacking.' He had yet to see just how long he could go, but well, that was because he did not fancy intentional starvation. Two months was the longest he had yet pushed it.

If he could go safely forever, he would. He wished he could hold himself sacred for his Giver, like some Bearers did... something that was, and would forever be, denied him. But, maybe he could be forgiven his past, one day, someday, if they should ever meet.

The music was beginning, it was time. Perhaps.... no, better not to dream, just dance. Just dance.

[praiseofblood]

Rarin grinned as he wove through the Reyl camp. This tribe was more nomadic and less known than his own, so hiding out here for a few weeks would be no problem. There seemed to be a festival going on, and the tribesmen recognized him as some kind of kin, so he had no problem joining in the festivities. Rarin smiled, the music was rich and happy. Tonight was one of celebration--it must have been a plentiful year so far.

Rarin made his way to the fire circle, sitting himself next to a pair of giggling bearers. He watched as a small male made his way to the middle of the circle and began to dance. He was entrancing, the way he moved, and Rarin found himself spellbound.

[auroranightshade]

Aurora smiled as he twirled and leaped around the flames, circling it's heat and light. Reflections of color and hazy shadows flickered and moved across his silhouette as he did so. The music's tempo speed up, and the other dancers joined in, alone and in pairs, until nearly two dozen were spinning and leaping, twirling and jumping, in an elaborate display around the circle.

It was a traditional dance, one meant to represent their tribe's views on mating and family - the courtship, and the challenges, though challenges were not handled here the same way as city dwellers handled them. It showed the deaths, and the pairings, and the 'dead' dancers were then 'reborn' as new kits in the family portions of the dance. Woven through it all was the bonds of fate - which the main dancer, Aurora for tonight, represented. At the end, when the music faded, and final positions were taken, Aurora stood alone at the farthest end of the circle, on a tiny platform made just for this dance. Made specifically so the tiny dancer, normally much shorter than his partners, would be able to look down over them all.

He smiled. This was one of his favorite dances, and he'd have a bit of a break before his next piece, as the jugglers came next. They would be using a set of knives, gifted by another past admirer... originally a set of 12 ceremonial daggers, 8 had been given to the team of 4 jugglers as their beauty would only enhance the performance. The tribe earned much of their coin from city dwellers seeking entertainment, as they traveled hither and yon, and such elegance would increase the tribe's wealth.

Two others had been given to a pair of the tribe's warriors. Ceremonial or not, the elegant blades were stronger, and sharper, than the knives previously used. Those knives, had in turn, been passed down to future warriors, ones as yet without weapons of their own.

The final two blades in the set Aurora had kept, making wrist sheaths out of gamba skins. His Beba, as the Chief's bearer mate had insisted he be called, saying he would "oneday be Greba to Aurora's kits, so of course that made him his Beba!" had made Aurora agree to checkups in medibox at every city they visited - once upon arrival, and once before departure. His nature, after all, led him to having many partners, including some from other, even more anti-city Zeyl tribes than theirs. There was no telling what sort of diseases he could pick up, especially as he was only part Zercan, and did not have their famous immunities. The blades helped Aurora feel safer walking in the city alone.

The Chief, who was much stricter on formalities than his mate, would have preferred Aurora to have a blaster or a sword to pair with his twin daggers, but the tribe was not wealthy enough to have one to spare.

Their tribe was a minimalistic tribe, despite their entertaining heritage. They never had more than four gambas at a time - two per wagon for pulling, and only two wagons. One was for the tribe's foodstuffs and heaviest possessions, the other for any pregnant bearers or kits too young for walking extreme distances. Everything else, including the tents they slept in, was expected to be carried by the tribesman they belonged to. Heavy possessions were often sold off as soon as possible, and no one kept more than they had to.

Unfortunately, the Shodun's order that city dwellers look to the tribes for mates had sent too many strangers into their midst lately. While the tribe's wealth was increasing, as both short-term lovers and long term partners were found, it was off-set by the losses of some of those who's partners refused to join their mate's tribe, and by the weight gifts from the courting brought.

It was also dangerous to their tradition, as young impressionable kits were easily swayed by the temptations of the material, less willing to share their gifts with the tribe or sell them off, to protect against unnecessary weight. They forgot hunting, and resented time in the wilds, preferring the ease of their visits to the cities. This worried the Chief, and it bothered Aurora.

Their visits to cities had increased since he had joined them, after all - because Beba wanted to make certain he was checked often enough. Aurora would never survive the guilt if their traditions changed because of him.

[praiseofblood]

Rarin watched the festivities with interest. This was a small tribe, mostly traveling for entertainment. They must be rather poor, or had to have been in the past. Nevertheless, people seemed happy enough, and Rarin found himself roped into a dance by a young bearer that flirted shamelessly, and rather ineptly with him.

[auroranightshade]

Aurora moved out of the knife throwing jugglers ways, watching as some of the dancers grabbed members of their still growing audience for dances on the opposite side of the fire from the jugglers.

He, personally, always waited to be approached, but unlike some of the bearers in the tribe - he did have an edge that meant at some point he always would be. Whether for a dance or for more varied, of course, especially once he swore off using his 'natural abilities' to increase his attractiveness, but it was still a given that a Lifegiver would, eventually, approach him.

He stretch his slender form, arching his back and raising his arms far above his head. His bare feet arced as he rose onto his toes. Ugg, he was getting too old for this! After just one performance, he was a little sore. He was too old for his 28 years; if he really *was* 28. All he really had to go on for that, was the age and birthday his former masters had told Beba - and they could very well have been lying for a better price.

He had been adopted into the tribe almost 13 years ago, and while still more flexible than the average bearer, and much better muscled after 13 years of living 'on foot' he was seriously considering retiring from the dancing, and simply training new dancers and making costumes, and as all Zeyl - trading.

He fingered one of the tiny beaded braids in his otherwise loose, shoulder length brown hair. The beads marked him as a performer; he would hate to pass them on. Maybe he could dance for another couple of cycles.

The jugglers were stepping down and it was time for another dance - this time, a single, a dance of seduction. He would be granted half the fire circle, while the other half was available for couples. No clothes would be removed, like in similar dances preformed in city brothels, but the implication was there.

His movements suggested the 'lover' that simply was not there, as he danced mimicking the art of love.

[praiseofblood]

Rarin found his eyes drawn back to that pretty little bearer. Even as he moved easily with the little bearer in front of him. He knew this dance, his tribe danced it at mating celebrations and other festivals, and Rarin never found himself without a partner.

He was sorely tempted to pull the other bearer away from the circle to dance with him. But he didn't for some strange reason. He felt that a forceful advance on this pretty little thing would not be welcomed.