#ffxiv tsagaan sar

[wayfarers-ger]

Wayfarers' Ger in 2024

I'm going to make an effort to actually make use of this Tumblr. \o/

What Is Wayfarers' Ger?

It started out as a weekly storytelling RP event with a steppe theme ICly set in a ger/yurt on the Azim steppe, then we started adding bigger events every so often, like our summer event "Steppes on the Beach", but as altaholics, we've also tied in some of our other projects like The Approving Seal and The Ankhai Tribe.

I am an enthusiast of steppe culture & really want to bring some appreciation for the real-world steppe cultures and base a lot of my RP around its culture. I am far from an expert & I take some artistic license like the devs did because it's Mongolia-influenced, not a re-creation.

What's The Plan?

More events in 2024, starting with Tsagaan Sar, the new year. More use of the Approving Seal and the Ankhai Tribe.

I also want to make better use of social media (like Tumblr here), the wider community and our website.

Plans for the Approving Seal

The Approving Seal is a Terncliff-themed cafe & charity and we just did our Starlight event with it. With the Approving Seal, we like to try and offer a more wholesome kind of RP and this year we want to use it for actual charity fundraisers for real-world charities.

We have a charity page set up for it for people to give their own donations to our selected charity (we'll have separate pages if we do a fundraiser for a different charity): https://www.justgiving.com/page/approving-seal

Plans for Wayfarers' Ger

On the Wayfarers' Ger side, I want to lean more & more heavily into the culture stuff, this seems to be the stuff people respond best to, which I am happy for because it's the part I care most about & want to dive deeper with.

As much as I would like to keep a fortnightly RP, we do find they get a variable turn out and I have mused on it & I know we've tried getting them working again, like in the early days, but my energy may be better placed in themed events with more attention to quality.

And I have a few ideas I am toying with for things we could do, including opening the floor for more people to get involved with contributing, because I realise I can sometimes do things on a bit of a whim.

Plans for General Steppe Stuff

I also found some of my "The Real Steppe" blog posts get some popularity and even got a mention in Mirkes Menagerie for my comments about magic on the steppe. So I want to put out more things like it & share them with the Wayfarers' Ger & general Steppe RP community. And I want to go back & spot-check my old blog posts to make sure they're to a standard I am happy with & that I triple-check any facts.

The motivation for triple-checking is that I have learned that not all sources on Mongolian culture are reliable. For example: UNSECO has information about tuulis and the practice but the information confuses different types of Mongolian storytelling & other sources seem to give similar info & frame it in totally the wrong way. And I have better sources who don't mind me asking questions.

Plans for the Ankhai Tribe

The Ankhai tribe is a custom tribe inspired by Tuvans, Mongolians and Siberians, who come from north of the tail mountains and the Dalvalan Grath. Like with how FFXIV approaches cultures, there is still artistic license, so not all ideas/customs are grounded in the real world, but include FFXIV-appropriate flair, to keep it within the realms of fantasy.

We spent some time introducing some of the characters into the general community & ran individual RP's & events to establish IC connections and working through the story arc that allows us to open up the tribe to more people to create their own characters. For 2024, I want to do smaller RP's & events where the tribe is a focus, with room to recruit people into the concept.

Closing Note

I realise I made it a long post. But the new year brings new opportunities and I am still passionate about the RP's we run and want to not neglect things I've started and instead not only keep doing what we do, but aim for something cooler. Plus, with my focus on visiting Mongolian in 2025, learning the language and spending time in groups relating to Mongolia, it's traditions & culture, I hope to work with you all to create greater RP experiences this year and clear out the crickets & cobwebs from both our Tumblr & Discord.

If I don't keep up my promise, hunt me down and slap me.

Peace and love,

Yesunova Hotgo and many, many alts

[laeorinel]

FFXIV Write 2023 - DAY 2 - Bark

Minor CW. Mentions of gore and harm against children, though it is not explicitly described.

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As the young Auri girl stared up at the large tree just a few yalms ahead, she could do little to quell the growing fear inside. The Azim Steppe was well known for being a harsh landscape, with vast open plains and deserts that seemed to stretch on for eternity. What was less well known was there were a few scattered places near the border to Yanxia where small, dense forests dotted the landscape. Few tribes called these forests home. Most knew that the wilds had claimed these places as their own. Baras, wolves, bears and other predators lurked within the shadows of these groves. 

There was one Tribe, however, that ventured into one specific forest every year around the same time, on the day before the Tsagaan Sar. Tribe Tumet makes this yearly pilgrimage for one reason and one reason only. The first claim. A ritual that was somewhat unique to their Tribe. Children of Tribe Tumet spend their first ten summers nameless, seen as extensions of their parents rather than individuals of their own. The first claim was the trial these children would undertake to claim a name of their own and a place within the Tribe.

The Khatun stood a few yalms ahead of the rest of the Tribe, preparing the ropes needed to bind the young Auri girl and those taking the rite alongside her. The ritual was simplistic in nature. At sunset, when Nhaama rose in the twilight sky in her darkest phase, those undertaking the ritual would be bound to a grand red cedar tree that could be seen for malms around. The Tribe would then depart, and the nameless children left behind would have to free themselves and find their way back to the Tribe. Should they return, they would declare their new name loudly so even the gods in the heavens could hear and be accepted as a full member of the Tribe. However, not all succeeded in this rite. 

The young girl kept her eyes forward, looking around the tree's base where she would be standing in the not-too-distant future. Deep scars cut into the tree bark from the countless others who had been bound to it over God's only know how many years. She jumped slightly as an older Auri man placed a hand on her shoulder. Her father. Whether it was to try and calm her or distract her was debatable, but it did help with drawing her mind away from focusing on the objects sticking out of the ground around the tree base. No matter how much they looked like fragments of scales, bones and horns, they were just stones...right?

Her mother stood beside her, whispering what sounded like faint prayers under her breath that the child could barely hear. The other mothers present were doing much the same. This year, six of the tribes' children would undergo the rite. Four boys and two girls. Everyone present was quiet and pensive. Some looked haunted, others turned their focus to the skies, counting down the minutes before the preparations were complete and the ritual would begin. 

She started as she heard the dull yet loud sound of the bottom of a staff hitting the forest floor. The Khatun of Tribe Tumet, an elder woman with blazing red eyes and dark grey braided hair, called out, her voice rasping like claws on stone. "Child of Gansuhk and Khaliun, step forward." 

She tried to ignore the almost iron-like grip her parents had on her or the tremble of her mother's hand as it grabbed hers and the clench of her father's jaw in response. Her mother knelt down next to her first, placing her forehead against her daughter's before speaking. The auri woman tried to keep her voice neutral, but cracks formed the longer she spoke. 

"Be brave, my little one. Be strong. When Father Azim returns to the sky, you will be back with us. I am certain of it." 

Her father squeezed her shoulder before giving an affirmative nod. "We will be waiting to hear your name. Roar it as loud as you can so that the very heavens shake." And with that, he nudged the young girl along, out of her mother's grasp and towards the Khatun. The young girl did not see her mother practically cling to her father, clawed fingers digging into flesh and scale. 

The Khatun guided her to the tree. One thicker and larger rope had already been tied around the base; the ropes that would be used to bind her and the others were interwoven with it. As the young girl was the first to be bound, she tugged and pulled on the restraints faintly. The rope was strong but not impossible to break. The thread would eventually fray on her scales. She just needed time. Once the Khatun was satisfied with her bindings, she turned back to the Tribe and called out the next child...

"Child of Esen and Odval, step forward." 

One by one, the children were bound to the tree as night quickly shrouded the forest in shadow. The Khatun spoke one final message to the bound children.

"Be strong, young ones. May the Gods show you mercy, for the Steppe will show you none." 

The Tribe then left swiftly and silently, leaving nothing behind but footprints in the dirt. The creeping feeling of fear welled inside the young girl once more as the last of the torches carried by the Tribe faded off into the distance. 

Instead of forcing the fear away, she embraced it. Fear itself was nothing to be ashamed of. It was a tool to be used. A tool that sharpened one's senses and kept you alive. 

As the hours passed by with each of the six children struggling against their bonds, little progress was being made. The ropes holding them were starting to fray, but their energy levels were also dropping. Each of them already had bloodied wounds around their wrists from the constant contact and push and pull of fraying the thread of the ropes. The young girl had paused in her attempts, resting for a bit as her mind tried to find an alternate solution. They were all running out of time, and even once free, they needed to find the Tribe. They could hardly do that if they were all exhausted from simply freeing themselves. 

As she focused on her breathing and tried to block out the struggles of her fellow captives, she heard something that made her blood run cold and every muscle still. The large snap of a twig or branch mere ilms from them. 

All of the children fell silent. Panicked looks were shared as heads swivelled to watch the shadows of the surrounding forest for movement. Something was watching them. The girl could not even say they were being hunted. There was no hunt here. Whatever this creature was, its prey was helpless. 

One of the boys struggled against his bonds once more, more feverishly than before. Panic was setting in as the others started to do the same. All except the young girl. A quiet calm settled over her as she dug around the base of the tree with her feet, using her toes to try and pry up one of the stones or bones, or whatever they were, that she saw earlier. 

As her feet slowly became as dirtied and bloodied as her wrists, their hunter revealed itself. A large black wolf, its gaping maw already bloodied from a fresh kill. The children stilled, staring silently as the creature stepped closer, sniffing the air around it. 

The young girl's head pounded, a headache coming from nowhere that nearly caused her to black out. She saw the black wolf, but almost as though it was from the eyes of another.

She felt sick as realisation crept in. This tree was sacred to her people...and the preferred hunting ground of this wolf. Why would it not be when prey is left on open display, helpless and without hope of salvation? The headache lingered as her head was flooded with the voices of desperation of countless others. "Help us!", "Save us!". But there was no desperation to be felt on her own part. No. There was only anger. 

White hot fury filled her mind as she struggled against the bonds, scale and skin tearing as she saw the wolf claim its first victim. One of the boys of the Tribe. The wolf was cruel, its giant maw biting down and practically tearing one of his bound arms off before pulling the rest of his body free and beginning its feast. The other children were helpless to watch, to hear his cries for help, feel the fear coursing through their bodies and think desperately for a way to escape. 

As the metallic smell of blood filled the air, the sound of bones crunching and crying and screaming fell silent and was replaced by a howl of pain from the black wolf. 

The girl was free. The ropes that bound her were frayed, torn and bloodied, as red as her now glowing eyes as she jumped on the back of the wolf and plunged down into its back the jagged remains of a rib bone. As the wolf whipped around, trying to throw the girl from its back, another of the children broke free, the ropes finally fraying under their panicked struggles. The boy quickly went to work freeing the other still-bound children, and soon, the four other children armed themselves with stones and sticks from their surroundings. But arming oneself is different to having the nerve to fight. 

As the wolf and the girl struggled, it became clear the wounds were little more than superficial. The bone could not reach deep enough to inflict a mortal wound, nor could any of their sticks and stones. The girl looked to the other freed children and issued a command. 

"RUN!"

And so they did. As the girl who led the charge jumped free of the wolf, all five children dashed off through the forests, falling and tripping over roots, branches and stones, earning more wounds that would scar and bruises that would linger. The wolf was hot on their trail the entire time, only hindered by its large size when the children scurried through holes and gaps in trees it could not. As the forest began to thin, the wolf ceased its pursuit. It no longer had the cover of shadow and night to keep it safe from larger predators or hunters. The children jumped over gaps in rock and hill until eventually nothing, but the open plains of the steppe and the endless dawn speckled skies of the heavens could be seen for malms around. 

The cries of joy filled the air as the children collapsed to the ground, singing their praises and thanks to the Gods for guiding them to safety. However, the feelings of elation the girl had quickly died, her stomach dropping to her feet. Dread filled her entirely as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. 

She could see nothing but open plains. 

No Iloh or campground. No smoke from a fire. Nothing. Just vast, empty, open plains. 

The Tribe was gone. 

They had failed.

Thus began the wanderings of the small group of nameless children, just over ten summers old, led by a small scrap of a girl with a head full of voices not her own. By the following summer, she stood alone. A child of the Steppe with no name or Tribe to call her own, with nothing but ghosts to keep her company. 

[dutyfound]

Tsagaan Sar - A Xaela Lunar New Year Event

A gathering of Xaela - family and friends are invited to Reunion to celebrate the arrival of the Lunar New Year. Many festivities are planned, with plenty of drinks, dancing & a Buuz Eating Competition - the winner will receive a character portrait from @hixxiart !

Notes: Reunion welcomes ALL tribes and non-Xaela. Please dress in formal tribal attire. No fighting or hostility will be tolerated as per Reunion rules.

When? 24th February at 4pm EST/9pm GMT

Where? Reunion, Azim Steppes

Server? Balmung

Contact Oyuu Dataq/Ajir Qalli for more information. We look forward to seeing you there! Join The Game of Dawn Thrones Discord for more Xaela roleplay news and shenanigans. 

What is Tsagaan Sar? 

One of the most important holidays for Mongolia, Tsagaan Sar is a holiday that celebrates the end of winter and serves to welcome a flourishing new year. It is the Year of the Dog this year. It is actually celebrated on the 16th February, but we’ll be hosting on the 24th for organizational reasons.

Families gather to renew and solidify ties, particularly between young and old, and to repay debts and resolve disagreements. People dress in traditional clothes, tell stories that transmit traditional knowledge, consume traditional dishes, play games, and practice customs that reinforce Mongolian identity, solidarity, and continuity.

We wanted to bring this tradition to the world of Xaela, bringing together tribes from all over the Azim Steppe to put aside grievances and celebrate peace whilst welcoming the New Lunar Year.

What will the event feature? First and foremost, it will mainly act as a celebratory gathering where Xaela and non-Xaela who wish to come to Reunion to mingle and wish each other a Happy New Year. We expect people to dress up in their best formal/tribal attire, and there will be plenty of food and drink to keep everyone happy. Plenty of opportunities to meet new people and meet up with acquaintances, a guaranteed good time! It’s a common tradition to eat a LOT of Buuz dumplings at Tsagaan Sar, so we will be hosting a Buuz Eating Competition some point during the event! Participate to fill your belly and potentially win a portrait from @hixxiart , examples of her work here and here!

Any things we should know before coming along? 

Xaela and non-Xaela alike are welcome! If your character can visit the Azim Steppes, they are most certainly welcome to come along and celebrate with us.

Please dress somewhat formally. If you are a Xaela, we encourage you to go wild with your fabulous tribal flair!

No hostility or fighting between tribes will be tolerated, as per rules of Reunion.

The event will be hosted by Ajir Qalli and his friends within Reunion and is not tied particularly to any tribe. Just bringing family and friends together in a peaceful setting!

[meandering-mind]

Tsagaan Sar

@oyuudatass @shane-ffxiv @alderique @forever-halone @passage-of-arms @samhyurai and many, many more. Tag yourselves!

[lhunuial]

FFXIV || The Cup Dance

Rating: G Warning: None Summary: The Viera dancer Nune wants to learn about Xaela traditional dances. Note: Tumur, Khulan, Salkhi, Kiril, Altanur, Usha and Naran are not mine. They belong to my friends. I’m just borrowing them for this ficlet.

“What kind of dances do you have on the Steppe?”

One of the things Nune like about her performances with the Radz-Shari troupe was they performed almost everywhere on Othard. As such they were also privileged to see many local customs and dances and learn them.

Considering they never managed to get to the Azim Steppe hanging out with a group of Xaela, who left their homeland, provided an opportunity she felt she could not waste. The Xaela had lived on the Steppe for generations. There was so much they didn’t know about the Xaela. To her delight Zhusai started smiling and got up onto her feet. “We have many dances. Some are danced by all tribes, but some are native to a certain region on the Steppe, or tribe only.”

Zhusai reached for the small trunk where she stashed her belongings and grabbed the hat that accompanied one of her udgan outfits. She grinned at Tumur, who was seated next to her. He enjoyed music as much as she did and often played the Morin Khuur after they had a meal. It did not take him long to figure out what she was planning. As Tumur reached for the Morin Khuur, Salkhi grabbed the Yoochin drum and Usha had a seashell flute ready. 

Naran joined her sister in putting on a hat. Both girls took two cups they’d just been using for their meal, filled them with water, and placed them on top of the hats. “This is what we call the Cup Dance,” Zhusai explained. “It is usually danced after a feast and many times during the Tsagaan Sar. Some tribes perform the dance with the cups on their heads, or on their hands. Some even perform it with cups on their knees, though I have only seen Xaela men doing this.”

Once the music started both Naran and Zhusai began their performance.

Nune watched silently, completely transfixed upon their movements and the way they balanced the cups on their heads. Her astonished expression gradually changed into one of pure admiration. This cup dance was incredible. It seemed such a simple dance, but was so incredibly graceful. She could tell this wasn’t the first time the girls performed this dance together. They were almost completely in sync and their balance impeccable. The way they performed the dance it seemed so gentle.

When she looked around to see the others’ reactions to the dance Nune saw Kiril and Khulan clapping along to the music with big smiles on their faces. Zhusai motioned for Khulan to get up and join them and while she could tell the tall Xaela woman really wanted to do just that, Khulan hesitated and decided not to in the end. 

Zhusai wouldn’t have it though. She reached for Khulan and pulled her up with all of her strength. Quite a feat, considering Khulan was a lot taller and heavier than the usual Xaela woman. After some encouragement Khulan started dancing.

The group’s leader was watching the dance as well, completely focused on the girls and their graceful movements. How could he not, when it was such a beautiful performance? This was the first time the group danced since they left the Steppe and that fact alone was a reason for joy. 

Eventually the music stopped and the girls stopped moving. Nune immediately applauded. “That was amazing! Can you teach me this dance?”

[laeorinel]

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 1 - Envoy

Unedited because lack of time ahhhhhh. One minute before deadline. I'm getting flashbacks to Uni.

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Gods, what she would not give for a Garlean patrol to discover them now; she needed to hit something, anything. Hells, even one of the trees of the thinning forest she was walking through was looking tempting at this point. 

As Samara trudged along the path through the northern hills of Doma, she could spy an all too familiar ridgeline of mountains in the distance, colourful tattered banners dotting the peak. Were she a miqo'te, every hair would be standing on end; instead, her barbed tail was the only outward sign of her displeasure. Coiled and whipping around like a snake lashing out, spikes and scales, usually relaxed and somewhat hidden, were on full display, looking more akin to small blades than bits of scale and bone. 

Every instinct in her body was in conflict. Her mind was trying and failing to reign in her anger and anxiety, one screaming at her to fight whatever lay over those mountains and the other telling her to run away and never look back. Neither was really an option. They had to find a lost Lord. The fate of two kingdoms depended on it. No pressure, right?

Letting out an indignant huff, her grip around the katana's hilt at her side tightened. Why, of all people, did she have to be the one playing envoy? Surely, everyone knew at this point that if there was any diplomacy to be done, you called on Alphinaud, or maybe even Thancred with his damned silver tongue. Anyone but her. Her job was to kill things or be the one drawing the fire while everyone else killed things, not this. She was not good with words. There was a reason she spent most of her time in stoic silence. 

So here she was, a jumbled mess of anxious fury. Not the ideal mindset for someone about to engage in diplomacy, or her nonexistent brand of it at least, that would be delicate in the first place. Diplomacy with any Xaela tribes was complicated at the best of times. One wrong move could send two tribes who already held grudges with each other on the warpath. The only saving grace was it was nearing the time of the Tsagaan Sar. Most tribes would be cautious around this time, conserving their strength and preparing their warriors for the Nadaam. Most, not all. 

As Samara glanced up towards the encroaching ridgeline, her eyes settled on a few of the coloured banners. Her eyes were drawn to the dark blue of the Dotharl first. The Dotharli would be problematic regardless of the meeting conditions. Diplomacy was largely foreign to them and seen as a slight on their pride unless handled correctly. A battle of wills rather than blades. The outcome would largely depend on their Khagan or Khatun. They were one of the few tribes she could imagine still crossing blades with other tribes. 

Moving onto the gaudy yellow banner on the opposing ridge, she could almost picture a battle happening between this tribe and Dotharl any day of the week. The Oronir were known for their vainglorious pride, so convinced they were direct descendants of the Dawn Father, they fought with an almost zealous mindset. It did not take much to offend them or make them draw their blades. They would have to be handled carefully. Alphinaud would probably have advised her to listen to their demands, no matter how outrageous if they achieved their goal. Whether her own pride would allow that was the question...

Then there was the Adarkim - too lost in her own thoughts, the soft footsteps of Yugiri walking alongside her were missed entirely. "If I did not know better, I would say this task has you more ill at ease than our attempt on the Crown Prince's life." 

The shinobi took pity on her by not commenting on the obvious flinch or the sound of her sword moving ever so slightly from its sheathe. Samara sighed deeply in response. "I at least knew what I was getting myself into with that. It was a battle between hunters, albeit an uneven one. This? I have no idea what kind of battle I am walking into or even who my enemy is."

"You sound as though you expect conflict. The first step of diplomacy is perhaps not seeing this as a battle and whoever lies over those mountains as an enemy." Spoke Gosetsu from behind, a hand rubbing along his chin as he peered up towards the mountains ahead. 

"My people are warriors, Gosetsu. Everything is a battle to them, and even if they are not enemies, they cannot be called allies either." 

"Surely no harm can come from simply speaking with them?" Chimed in Lyse, observing Samara almost cautiously as if testing her response. 

Peering back to the mountains ahead, Samara sounded timid as she spoke. Uneasy. Something that was unheard of to Lyse. The Au ra woman always spoke with confidence and purpose. "Even if they do not recognise me at first, they will know I am of the Steppe. You can always tell when one is Steppe born just by the way they move. How they will respond to that, I cannot say. They may ignore me entirely. I am tribeless, after all. I may as well not exist to them." That confidence was replaced with irritation. "Regardless, you ask me to be a sheep among wolves. My weapons and armour are little more than decoration when I am armed only with words. And some see words as nothing but lies."

Lyse let out a sigh of her as she looked upon the path ahead. Thinking back to the words from Alphinaud of how best to aid Samara, she let the words flow freely. "As hard as this will be, this is why it has to be you. You know the Steppe and its people. How they think, work, plot and scheme."

"What I know of the Xaela is what I have read in books and tomes, and frankly, it is not enough. And that is ignoring any potential biases and falsehoods that exist in those books. Trust me, there will be plenty. Some Scholars in Sharlayan only care about how many papers they have with their name on it, rather than the contents." 

"I know there is more to this hesitance of yours. I won't ask you to tell me your secrets. Twelve knows I kept enough of my own from you. Just know that I'm with you, alright? Wherever this path leads."

"The others asked me to keep an eye on you. I'm not about to let them down." 

[lhunuial]

FFXIV fic || Buuz

Nune had never been to the Azim Steppe. Troupe Radz-Shari simply did not travel there for their performances. The closest they’d come to it was Doma. Stepping inside the Khori’s room on the Massatyr gave her some idea of what a Xaela yurt looked like on the inside. It was dimly lit, with many furs lying on the floor. Some bags of supplies and crates were stashed in a corner and a Hingan stove stood right in the middle. The smell in the air and the pot on the stove made it obvious food was being prepared there.

“Hello Nune, welcome to our humble abode.”  Zhu waved at the Viera girl as she carefully boxed some of the food she cooked.  “Please sit down and join me. Are you hungry? I have some Buuz for you, if you would like to try it.”

Nune looked about the room some more and saw Zhusai was not alone. The tall Xaela man, Tumur she thought his name was, was relaxing nearby, eating what looked like a few dumplings.

She joined Zhusai at the cooking fire and accepted the dumplings she was offered. After a few small bites and getting a taste of the food her eyes widened. “This is good!” She quickly took another bite and savoured the taste.

A big smile appeared on Zhusai’s face. It always pleased her immensely when people enjoyed her food. “Yes,” she explained. “It is something we typically make a lot of at the Tsagaan Sar, our lunar new year, and usually made with meat from the Steppe Dzo or our sheep. Since we are far from the Steppe I now have to improvise.”

“I think Kugane has its own dumplings too. I remember eating them at Kugane Dori after one of our performances. But they are mostly made with seafood.” Nune quickly put another dumpling into her mouth. She threw a glance at the box Zhu was filling with the dumplings. “You are making so many. Are you going to sell them at Kogane Dori?”

The Xaela girl shook her head and smiled. “No, these are purely for personal use.” She threw a glance at Tumur, who was also enjoying the dumplings and over for a second plate. “We eat a lot of them.” Zhusai couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of the tall Xaela man gorging himself on the food.

Nune looked at the pile of dumplings. They would be a great after performance snack and Zhu’s were so tasty she wanted the rest of the dance troupe to taste them as well. “Can I bring some to the venue? The others should try these as well.”

Zhusai couldn’t stop smiling. “Sure, I’ll put some in a basket for you.” She immediately reached over and started putting the dumplings in. It was already so flattering the rest of the Urkhago clan adored her dumplings back home on the Steppe, with the Khoriotoi  loving them as well as her new family. To have the dance troupe try them as well just made her feel all giddy.

Nune couldn’t wait to bring the basket to her fellow performers. It would be such a treat and lift their own spirits right before the show. “Are you going to attend the show tonight?” She looked at both Zhusai and Tumur, who nodded to confirm it. “Front row even.” Their leader wouldn’t want any other place than front row and the Radz-Shari dance show was their favourite ever since they arrived in Kugane.

Nune was positively beaming. The Xaela group had become a common sight at the venue over time and their enthusiasm was very contagious. “See you tonight then. And thank you so much for the Buuz, Zhusai!” She got up onto her feet. There was quite some preparing to do and there was food to eat as well after all.