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It was hard work, yes, and he looked forward to the comfort of a sleeping mat and his n'ruhar's presence but as he built his shelter for the seventh and probably last night in the wilderness, he couldn't help feeling some regret that the closest thing he'd had to a vacation in ten years was coming to an end.
The shower helped considerably, relaxing his muscles and allowing emotional tension to ease in the sheer luxury of being really clean. And his n'ruhar's presence allowed other tension to ease; he was asleep seconds after he covered himself with his light blanket.
It seemed that everyone in Ch'kara who knew anything at all about the outdoors was anxious to pass the knowledge along to Steve. Tarlac suspected they were motivated as much by curiosity about him as by anything else. If so, he didn't mind; he found himself savoring his n'ruhar's presence and their frequent touches, and the "team teaching" seemed to be very effective.
Tarlac watched, without pleasure, his n'ruhar's display of awed reverence no, outright worship. It was the Traiti way, and necessary to them; his personal dislike of it was irrelevant. To the clan that had adopted him, the people he cherished, he was a god, one of the Circle of Lords as the new, twelfth statuette which had materialized on every altar showed. He could only accept the homage.
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