Her replies were met with a horrified silence… for the time being. On one hand, he had not turned into a violent, overly cantankerous Fiend under the Ketamine’s influence, and this granted him some relief. However, what Wastrel described was hardly something for a man, such as himself, to take pride in. What made it worse was that he wore no face paint to conceal the reddening of his cheeks, and the rising morning sun had chased off the darker shadows covering his corner of the ruins. He could retreat further into his tent to hide, but that required spending energy he did not wish to spend.
The Gatekeeper cleared his throat before he went to stub the cigarette, leaving behind a black smear on the cement; the butt was given a toss towards the pile of rubble.
“Affectionate. Hm. Pleasant? Ha.” He grunted. “I do believe I will not pry for.. specifics regarding the embarrassing things. There are some memories I am okay with forgetting, it seems.”
His arms loosely crossed over his chest, and he tucked his cheek against his uninjured shoulder in a belated effort to hide the blush from view.
Part of him was glad the tribal was taking the gecko’s guts away to be cleaned, sparing him from the smell of gecko shit. Paleface couldn’t be sure if any fresh stenches would trigger another wave of nausea in his state, and he didn’t wish to find out. Still, he couldn’t help but feel some concern at the idea of the naked girl straying away from his territory with only a handful of innards and dirty water.
“You do not need to swear anything to me, just watch your back while you are out there.” He’d never trust most of his people around Wastrel, and at the moment, he felt absolutely useless as a guard from any who may spy and choose to harass her.
He hated feeling useless.
Wastrel turned her head and gave the man an incredulous look, pausing in the door way with her gory cargo for just a moment before grinning boldly and giving her eyes a roll. “Yessir” She was by no means flippantly disregarding the danger of being in her state of dress in fiend territory, but to think that she wouldn’t be on guard the whole time was silly.
He was silly. And his concern was touching and made those rascally butterflies come back full force.
Instead of dwelling on it however, the tribal made a quick exit and marched across the dessicated courtyard that was the fiend common area. Wastrel moved until she was a good twenty yards away from the gatekeepers domain.
The hasty business of cleaning the innards was not one she cherished but one she knew how to do fast enough to keep the unpleasantness from truly bothering her. Wastrel made quick work of stretching the innards out, kicking a sheet of rusty metal down on the ground and plopping most of it on top of the heated surface.
Slender hand made quick work of wringing the guts from top to bottom; after undoing the bottom knot, squeezing out the waste until it was a struggle to get anything out. She had to be as thorough as possible as she didn’t have a lot of water to spare.
Once she felt things were as clean as they were going to get, the young tribal tied the knot back down at the bottom and wrapped the cleaner end of the innards around the lips of the bottle. She poured the entire bottle into the intestines, and began massaging and rubbing it through the entire expanse of the pliable organ before finally reaching the end and working her way back up to the top.
She did this several times until letting the dirtied fluids spill out of the top, wringing it once again until not a single drop of water was left. The cooking process would clean what she could not, but it would always taste a bit off. Wastrel began braiding the intestines , looping and tugging and looping again till something similar to what she wore in her hair started developing.
She managed to swing the unbraided half of the innards around her neck as she braided idly and walked back to Paleface. Maybe she could teach him this technique sometime, she’d always thought it was incredibly clever when her mother had tried teaching it to her.