They seem to have decided I am a benign god, at least. The fear that I felt yesterday gradually subsided today, though the awe remained.
I teleported to the spot I’d been teleporting Songbird from. She was watching for me, though she’d been gathering foodstuffs while she waited, and proudly escorted me to the camp. This time I was shielded against emotions – not entirely, for safety’s sake, but enough I could function.
They were preparing a feast. Every person in the group filed before me while I was enthroned on a large rock,, and each bore a gift. Some were very welcome indeed, like the clothing – far finer than what Songbird had made me, and beautifully decorated with bits of fur, feather and shell. Some were containers, or items of food. Some were decorations, for the head, throat, arms and legs. Others …. Well, I am still not sure what they are, but I smiled and accepted them as the honors they were intended to be.
The food was primitive relative to some I have eaten, but by far the best I since I was stranded here. Songbird is a better cook than I am, but for the first time I realized that her mother had only started to teach her how to prepare food. Not that I found everything they ate to my taste, but I did manage to eat at least a little of everything they offered.
By that time it was growing dark away from the fire, which seemed to grow brighter as the stars appeared. I was wondering how to excuse myself when several of the men of the group came into the firelight, so ornamented with feathers, animal skins tanned with the hair on, and beads that I could not recognize any of those I had met. They moved in patterns – dancing, the shaman called it – while others made sounds by pounding on shoulder blades, blowing on reeds, and doing other things I could not quite see, as well as singing.
Makers of beauty, I thought. Such are rare among my people. What have I found here?