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The young girl Pril bound across the sealine; her hands were full of shining seashells she had gathered with her tsumakan’yawn. They had spent the entire day together, coasting through the soft tides with an ilu, Lo’ak holding her steady with a strong hand. Now, as their feet sunk into the sand, he kept a hand on her shoulder, guiding her as she distractedly turned her hands around to stare at the shells she had found.
She would keep most for herself. Some she would share with Lo’ak. Others she would give to her elder sister Tsireya. As the clan’s Tsahìk, Tsireya always had a need for certain items. She often had Pril join her to gather and crush plants and had taught her to recognize shells that could be used in calming rituals. At five years of age, Pril had only retained some of what her sister taught her—something she was quite proud of.
“Lo’ak! See, see, look.” She fumbled to point out a particular shell without dropping her entire bounty onto the ground. “See, Tsireya will like this one. I am sure of it!”
“Let me see.” Lo’ak hummed as he carefully grabbed the shell between his finger and his thumb. She watched as he held it up near his eye. Sunlight caught onto the shell and caused a rainbow of colors to pour along his long neck. “Ah, yes, Tsireya will definitely need to see this one.”
The words caused Pril to beam with pride.
It did not take long for them to walk through the village and into the marui where the Tsahìk often resided during the daytime. Pril stood outside of the marui for a moment to watch as Lo’ak stepped inside with light steps. He was much softer footed then much of the Metkayina, something that endlessly fascinated Pril. Her brother claimed it was due to him being a forest person—nimble and silent people, he would say.
As always, Lo’ak greeted Pril’s sister with a hand on her shoulder and a kiss to her cheek. As Pril watched them—bright and soft with love—she felt something warm inside of her chest. She loved them so much. Every time they kissed Pril would hop in place and beg to see it again, which made them laugh and try to pinch at her cheeks.
“Hello, muntxatan.” Tsireya’s voice was smooth and soft, nearly like a song. When Lo’ak pulled away and sat in a corner to weave, Tsireya turned to Pril. “Hello, my wild sister. Come here, come. Let me see what you have collected.”
Obedient, Pril hopped over towards her elder sister. She was sitting on the ground, surrounded by tools and mixtures that stung at Pril’s nose and eyes. She rocked on her heels as she set the shells in order of smallest to largest.
Her elder sister made noises of appreciation as each one was set down; elation and pride warmed Pril’s chest as she explained where she found them. Her words often ran too close together, and her sister would laugh so wonderfully, so kindly. Pril smiled back at her. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever be as beautiful as her sister. Somedays Pril would sneak around with Tsireya’s clothes tied tightly around her and pretend to heal her dolls that her father and brothers made with special remedies, just as her sister did.
“Thank you, Pril.” Tsireya said warmly as she gathered the shells with delicate fingers. Some she pocketed into a pouch on her side. Others, she deposited into two bowls with a smile. “Come, help me crush these.”
Pril eagerly sat by her sister's side. “What will you use it for?” She asked as Tsireya handed her a pestle. It was heavy and too big for her small hands so Pril had to hold it with both hands. She breathed in and held it tight. She was strong. She was.
“Hmm.” Tsireya hummed as she began to crush the white and blue shells. “These will be used in medicines. Yours will be for paint. Careful with your fingers, kalintu. The shells are sharp before they become soft powder.”
“Oh, okay.” Pril nodded, serious, as she adjusted her grip and continued to grind the shells. Her elder sister was much faster than her. Her movements were deft, clean. It was a quick few minutes before Tsireya set aside her bowl, which was nothing more than a fine powder. Pril’s was still sharp, awkward pieces.
Tsireya set a hand on Pril’s elbow. “Good job. You’re doing so well.”
The words made Pril smile.
Once she was finished, she handed the bowl to Tsireya, who thanked her and quickly stored it with other powders used to make paint. Pril could see bright blues and pinks and reds before Tsireya shut the box.
“Now, my wild sister,” Tsireya gave her a closed-lipped smile, her blue eyes wide, “how about we find our dear brother and gift him a txursum?”
Lo’ak lifted his head and grinned. He always loved to annoy their brother. It always made him and Pril laugh so much they would hold onto their stomachs and fall into each other. “Think I can be a part of that?”
Pril grabbed Tsireya’s wide hand and stuck her tongue out at her tsumakan’yawn. As much fun as he could be, Pril did not want to share her elder sister's attention with Lo’ak. “No! This is for sisters only, Lo’ak! Go find somebody else to play with.”
“Right,” Tsireya giggled and began to pull Pril out of the marui, “come one, hurry! Hurry!” Pril ran as fast as she could to keep up with her sister. Laughter was pulled out of Pril’s chest as she did. They ran towards the sand, in search of a txursum, laughing all the while.