261 - Telling Gan about Chevenga

I was sweating. I'd managed, in the intervening moons not to think of the things that fuelled my dreams and nightmares. I set Ili next to me and skinned off my shirt, letting my pendant fall back onto my chest, unbuckled my kilt and slid under the covers of the bed. Like all Yeoli beds it was softer than I was used to. A stack of feather ticks or wool-stuffed mattresses in a box frame to hold