Dindi

“Dindi!” Gwenika called from the woods. “Where did you go?”

Muck and mercy. Dindi hopped down from the log, scrambled into her outer wrap and backbasket and managed to be seated sedately on the riverbank by the time Gwenika caught up with her.

The travelers had stopped an hour before sunset to eat evening meal and camp by the river. The two groups of adults were too busy talking amongst themselves to bother about enforcing the No Talking rule among the Initiates. The boys had gone hunting together.

Dindi had hoped to spend some time alone, but Gwenika had found her, as usual, and now Dindi heard the voices of other Initiates meandering toward the log bridge.

“Your mother is a Zavaedi and you dance just as well as she,” Jensi was telling Gwena, the elder sister. Kemla and five or six other girls were with them too. “They say you’ll be invited to join the Tavaedi for sure.”