It was...152 day, in 1424 year. I could never forget that date.

Henage Ansil was the one who had brought me to this small village of Dendell. He always hated it when I addressed him so politely, but to me, it was a small way in which I could show my respect towards and admiration for him. I was still new in the group and, while eager, inexperienced and young. Such qualities were never shuned by my Brothers, however. They truly treated me as kin, showing me how things were done, rather than scolding me for not knowing to begin with. Henage had to meet with that elder gentleman. Despite his seeming senility and overdue expiration date, Old Man Gerald was always on the up and up concerning new technologies, and was an appreciated friend of our group. Though living in a world where things such as violence were necessary was something that we all regreted, we had to stay on par with our competitors, or face our deaths. I was here for a purpose; to learn the newfound art of crafting explosives.

But things never went by as expected for the Sienjo'Ka. Unseasonal rain had plauged the area recently, and the powder was damp. We'd have to wait for things to dry back up, for the path we had taken to get here was now flooded. Henage had just introduced me to Gerald when a sharp knock resounded from the entrance of the room. I thought nothing of it at first, and furthermore, couldn't see the doorway from my position. But somehow, as soon as he opened the door, I saw you in my mind, and in the space of a second, memories that I had all but forgotten flooded my mentality. My senses perked up and...well, this is a bit embarassing to say, but the first thing I consciously remembered about you was...your scent. Not a perfume or such worldly thing, but your scent as a creature. It's something I still have trouble explaining. But you know what I mean.

When you walked into view, I could but stare in awe. Never, amongst populous nor nature, had I ever seen such uncontrived grace of movement, engulfed so fully in an air of self-capability. You exuded the seemingly opposite forces of the delicate and the rugged, combined in such an honest manner as to confound and infatuate even the most cunning poet. Even at such a young age, you had the presence of an adult. Never once did I call you "girl;" to me, you were always a woman.

Gerald introduced you, to Henage and me, as his neice. "You remember her, don't you?" Ansil asked me. That's right. I knew you from a year ago, when I was staying with a foster family out west. We spent the summer living right across from each other, and quickly formed a friendship. But this time, I didn't recognize you at first. Something was different about you. I composed myself enough to stand and offer a curteous bow. You ran quickly into another room and upstairs, preoccupied with some task that needed completion. As the conversation continued, visual aid became increasingly necessary, so Gerald took my older Brother and me to the basement and through an otherwise secret passage into his workshop, to show me the tools of this peculiar trade. We were down there for over an hour before Ansil dismissed me. We hadn't realized it, but shortly after we left the surface, rain had started to fall. I headed for the door, because I've always loved the rain so, but I didn't expect to find you out there.

You sat on the porch stair, head tilted skyward and eyes closed, in the same pensive position that I often found myself in. When you realized you weren't alone, your head whipped around to see who it was, aureate hair following like a dancer's skirt flying up to meet the horizon. I don't know why you said nothing, nor why I was equally wordless. I thought of heading back inside, but for some reason, I instead settled beside you, as if you were an old friend with whom I could plop down next to without so much as asking for the seat. You followed my movements with your eyes before turning your gaze back to it's lofty destination, perhaps searching for something in the muteness of the torrent. I tried to start a conversation...

"How long has it been raining?"

"It's always raining."

After moments of silence, I nervously turned my head to look at your face, your eyes still closed and unaware of my rude gawking. I could feel my face turn hot, and knew that my skin was turning red with emotion, but still, I couldn't stop ogling you. The moment you flinched even a bit, I jerked my head in the other direction, awkwardly pretending that something had caught my attention, so that you wouldn't see my bashful expression. I cautiously turned my head back towards you, hoping you were once again staring at the clouds, but you weren't. Not at all. You were looking right at me. I thought I'd die of embarassment, but thankfully you didn't suspect me of anything, mistaking my blush for something else...

"Oh, you've got a cold, too?"

"Maybe it's the weather."

My meak reply was indicative of my want to avoid the subject. You broke the silence with a coughing fit. I worried, but you said you were fine. Regardeless, you still looked cold, and were dressed for sunnier weather. My hands felt like they were being guided when I removed my poncho, the one that all members of the Sienjo'Ka were given, and wrapped it around your back. It was a bold action to take, even crazy. But it felt right. I felt like this was something I should be doing, something good. You felt the same way, didn't you? I'm sure your heart was racing as fast as mine, and the pace only quickened when you offered thanks and leaned towards me. Almost instinctively, I moved my arms to embrace your position, one hand around your back, the other hanging hesitant in the air before coupling with the other to fully enclose you in my grasp. It was now that all the fuzzy memories of that summer we spent together came back as clearly as the water of a pristine pond.

I felt so brave. Brave for reaching out to hold you, despite the intense fear that I felt. I was afraid that you'd find my actions repulsive, or at the very least, inapropriate. Something deep in my heart told me that it was okay, though, so I carried on. You nuzzled towards me until we were facing each other. I let my head rest next to your own, facing downward alongside you. My fear began to dissipate, and was replaced with a warmth and silent joy. This wavering feeling of happiness was confirmed when your hands rose up from their position and made our embrace mutual. You spoke volumes with your touch.

I'm glad we got to share that moment together, uninterrupted, without noise save for the chorus of the rain and each others sparse words. I hadn't felt that emotion since I was young and my family was still alive...love. People use that word so commonly, that it tends to lose the intensity of it's meaning. But nothing with you was ever dull. You were nothing if not...passionate.