and so cen kept his counsel, his silence on that matter. he answered fa'liya in lanzadoii, offering her the number-words in place of those she had spoken.
look at the calves. count only them, and then of that number, tell me how many seem weak.
to lead her under the hooves of a protective cow would be unthinkable, but oft mothers defended only those young able to rise and outrun in flight the fangs of wolves. too weak, and the cow might well preserve herself and leave to fate what she could not stop.
cen met those eyes, so like his own, and fa'liya was granted a smile, a rare and almost unsure bow to the man's mouth. quickly she learned, and he was grateful for her acceptance, as it meant the spaces between their language and ways might close even faster.
