2024-07-23 - 8.4- To Give

Only secondhand does Diath know what the various items brought into the Weyr are, knowledge plucked from passing minds, or Shayled's mind- so much clearer through it's connection to Gwillanth's. Silk is useful and valuable, the words 'pretty' and 'strong' bandied about. Wine is a cherished treat. Glows need replacing but it's never known before you had to start them in the first place. Cotton is like silk but less so. Herdbeasts and fruits are food, clothes are a human need.

The 'what's don't matter near so much, it thinks, as the 'how's. 'Why's. The emotions each new delivery conjures in the people of the Weyr. Relief. Joy. Hope. Gratitude. Affection.

The Weyr was hit hard by the disaster, this Diath knows. So was the area around it (and oh the joy in learning over time of how much more there was). Ever since there's been talk of aid, of giving and requesting, but this is the first Diath sees and understands of what that is. Not the vague concept of 'help', but the actual concrete, material actions at play. Giving what you can, all you can, to those who need it. Even if you yourself are doing without, are hurting. Even if they're people who aren't yours. Even if they don't come asking.

The trail of emotion leads to the latest minds in the Weyr, just near enough for it to barely brush against them. It comes with thanks of it's own, with welcome and the affection it gives everyone it meets, and is hit with their emotions as well. Happiness to see so many well, sorrow at their losses, the simple pleasure of helping however they could. Not a single thought of the repayment that tumbles in the back of Shayled's mind. Just care for their fellows beings, the desire to be there to ease the burdens, hearts, minds of them all. A sense of community bone deep, extending far from the walls of the Weyr and into the lands around.

Community. That was a good word. One it could nestle in the pit of itself, among the darkness and the lights, the love and care.

It fit just Right.