“Told you he was sentient,” Becker said, grinning up at her to make sure she was meeting his gaze and not looking too closely at anything else. “Sorry about that. I’d help you load your stuff but I have to find my partner now.”
He nonchalantly tucked the collection bag into his belt and tried not to clank as he walked away.
Acorna wanted a graze and a good long gallop more than she wanted anything else in this -world at the moment, but before she could say so, her thought was taken up by all of the others.
“A meal? What a good idea,” exclaimed a nearby dignitary, as if she had spoken her wish aloud. She had been introduced to this person onscreen but she couldn’t recall who he was exactly. Someone very important.
“Yes, something to eat, and a good run. What a splendid idea!” Thariinye agreed, and others concurred with nods and other gestures of affirmation. The young male had also spoken aloud.
Neither of them had apparently read the part of her thought in -which the galloping and grazing was being done by herself, alone, with the wind blowing through her hair, down in that field below. She put the thought away as antisocial, something she didn’t wish to appear to be, especially now, when she really wanted to make a good impression on her native people.
So she smiled and nodded and avoided being trampled while the assembled masses poured out of the spaceport and onto the broad plain separating the port from the town. The plain was lush with lovely grasses, foreign to her but tasting deliriously of lemon and pepper, with a hint of cinnamon.
The people who had joined the Balakure’s crew to celebrate their homecoming happily pulled up and munched the grasses, while wandering from one area to another chatting, laughing, and calling to each other. Acorna slid a sidelong glance at one of the nearby Linyaari. He was not white like her fellow space travelers, but a deep red color with a rich black mane. Others in the crowd were black, brown, golden with white hair, or gray with hair that was lightly dappled with a darker tint.
Neeva smiled at her, catching her thought. “You didn’t know we came in colors?”
Several grazers glanced at them in a startled sort of way, then looked politely away.
“We should either speak aloud now or you must keep a tight focus upon me, my dear,” Neeva told Acorna. “You send quite well, you know, and will have half the planet privy to your inner thoughts if you’re not careful.”
“Sorry. It’s going to take some getting used to, guarding my thoughts so that everyone can’t hear. I’m still not quite sure what, or even when, I’m transmitting.”
“You’re very strong, dear, if somewhat new to this. You tend to-well, sometimes you shout a bit. Most people won’t deliberately intrude upon your thoughts, but you have to try to control your broadcasts. It’s not like it is on shipboard where we’re in sync with each other, thanks to long-term close association. People here on narhiiVhiliinyar tend to use thoughtspeak mostly only among their own kinship groups or close friends. They tend to vocalize at events like this, both to maintain their own privacy, and to avoid intruding on the thoughts of others. Most would no more try to listen in on your private thoughts than they would try to eavesdrop upon your private audible comments.”
“I’ll try to be more careful,” Acorna promised quietly, watching both white and multicolored Linyaari sitting crosslegged in the field or simply lying down, rolling over to get a new nibble when they’d worn out the old spot. No one seemed to mind about their clothing getting mussed. Acorna decided it was time for a change of subject. “No one mentioned to me that Linyaari came in varied colorations. I was a bit surprised, that’s all. You and the other Linyaari I’ve met until this moment are white like me, so I thought we all would have the same coloring.”
Neeva made a wry face. “The color of our coat, or lack of it, among those of us who travel in space has until recently been a matter of pride to us. It shows our people who we are, and where we have been. The white coloration is known as becoming starclad, -wearing the white and silver of the distant stars. A space traveler proudly sheds his or her color the way a child sheds his or her toys. We’re not sure -why, but a Linyaari’s natural coat color bleaches to white during his or her first space voyage.”