[The pattern of the marks, even blunted as they are by being done with a finger in charcoal rather than as whatever tattoo method was used on Meallan, is hypnotic. He watches the markmaking as Meallan explains the process.
It's really something, compared to the banal growing-up rituals of his people. Forget getting drunk on one's eighteenth; there's something solemn to this that he quite likes. He listens for a little longer in silence, watching Mel sketch out the shape, turning over the ideas he's put forth.]
Are there other parts to the ritual? [he asks, arms loose around a sedate Imber in his sling.] Or is it primarily the... the vallaslin? [He carefully pronounces the unfamiliar term.]
no subject
It's really something, compared to the banal growing-up rituals of his people. Forget getting drunk on one's eighteenth; there's something solemn to this that he quite likes. He listens for a little longer in silence, watching Mel sketch out the shape, turning over the ideas he's put forth.]
Are there other parts to the ritual? [he asks, arms loose around a sedate Imber in his sling.] Or is it primarily the... the vallaslin? [He carefully pronounces the unfamiliar term.]