Ginnie looked at her sadly.
"I was hoping that you would choose some profession closer to the rest of us," she confessed to her daughter honestly, "but Vivane is right. Farness is a fact of life. And in fact you will not really be too far," she sighed, as if to convince herself. "Just beyond sight."
She failed to convince Boula, who had felt increasingly fidgety as the days wore on, closer to the start of term and the date of her departure. She had always been in Terrai — well, or in Sedimoreal — in any case she'd never been so far from everyone else. Unlike other years, when there were at least a handful or so of ungu going to universities, she was the only one from Terrai planning to attend Fallish.
"There are some other things that I need to tell you, my love," Ginnie said, and they sat down at a table. "Concerning things you may see out there."
She reached behind her, and removed a long tube from the shelving. From this she withdrew and unfurled a map across the table, flattening the big curl of it carefully with the knuckles of her hooves. It crinkled and did not tear; it appeared to be a sort of parchment, or perhaps clothpaper. On it was a map of Low Anthem, which contained simple information about the borders of the grades, and more detailed information pertinent especially to ungu. The quality of earth and the stretch of clan territories were shaded and patterned clearly, and were in more prominent colors than were the Standard Low Boundary Lines.
"Here is Terrai, of course. And I am sure you are aware of Sedimoreal, as well as other areas and clans were ungu are. You are my smart girl and I know you are aware of this, but something you know nothing of is the way that we ungu are treated in main Low.
"I'm sure you have read about even this. There are those who think that our ways are wrong, that we value our own blood too much, and for the wrong reasons. There will be some who will hate you upon sight. I advise you to ignore them, unless they strike out against you; in which case, you must strike back, my darling, not necessarily with your hooves or your horns but with your wits, and with knowing what things are right in your heart."
These were all very big ideas. Boula only felt more sick and nervous, but her mother was getting so into things that she didn't dare stop her.
"Out of everyone, however," her mother said, "the ones that you must watch against the most are other ungu. I don't know how the world has changed since I was last in it, but there are certain things that come through the borders, which are not often spoken of.
Her hoof scuffed the high mountains at the opposite edge of Low. "Tonsor — they inhabit the lands closest to darkness. I am sure that you are aware their wool is the most conductive of any kind. They can be a sharp folk, fast-witted and sometimes insulting — they are friends of Terrai — they love amusement and can be fickle. So be careful in trusting them.
"Frux is another clan that often send their own to universities. They come from the drier plains, where there are often dark storms. It is for this reason that their clan supply much of the rare, pliant wool, but their kind is very solemn, and they do not make much of their lives public.
"That aside, there is also —"
"Mother," Boula interrupted, "how do you know all this? These have to be only rumors. I don't see how everyone that I may meet at school would adhere to these cruel things."
Ginnie frowned. "It's true that they may not," she said, "but I only wish to arm you in preparation, so you are not confused, so you are not hurt. Wish the best of people, of course, but I'm telling you, they will also be aware of the rumors of the Terrai folk. Oh, did you not think that others believed things of us too? They regard us as a narcissistic bunch, beautiful but also capable of foul temper and easy physical aggression. This description does happen to suit someone we know very well, don't you think, my mountain goat?"
They grinned at each other.
"But alas, if you have no wish for all the gossip of the ungu lands, then I will spare you. I only wish to warn you of this last clan" — she pointed towards a shadow labeled Gia in the rocky portions of the Feathered Trenches — "who for certain are quite old in their ways of thinking. And to be frank, my love, they may not take to you well, specifically, because you are baa'er. They prize well-hanging hair as any ever did in the pastoral days. If you see hate from them, this is why."
She sighed and began to roll up the paper. "It is true that there have been bad and deadly things in our own past, but do not lose faith in your family and your clan, for we love you, and do not lose faith in this world, for it has more to offer than you may immediately see. Should you ever forget," she said finally, "only look at this."
It was a compact mirror — a small shell of a thing with a large compressible button to open it, easy for sometimes clumsy ungu digits. Boula opened it. Inside was a large mirror and a comb.
"This will make it easy for us to contact you while you are so far away."
"Thank you, mother!"
She failed to convince Boula, who had felt increasingly fidgety as the days wore on, closer to the start of term and the date of her departure. She had always been in Terrai — well, or in Sedimoreal — in any case she'd never been so far from everyone else. Unlike other years, when there were at least a handful or so of ungu going to universities, she was the only one from Terrai planning to attend Fallish.
"There are some other things that I need to tell you, my love," Ginnie said, and they sat down at a table. "Concerning things you may see out there."
She reached behind her, and removed a long tube from the shelving. From this she withdrew and unfurled a map across the table, flattening the big curl of it carefully with the knuckles of her hooves. It crinkled and did not tear; it appeared to be a sort of parchment, or perhaps clothpaper. On it was a map of Low Anthem, which contained simple information about the borders of the grades, and more detailed information pertinent especially to ungu. The quality of earth and the stretch of clan territories were shaded and patterned clearly, and were in more prominent colors than were the Standard Low Boundary Lines.
"Here is Terrai, of course. And I am sure you are aware of Sedimoreal, as well as other areas and clans were ungu are. You are my smart girl and I know you are aware of this, but something you know nothing of is the way that we ungu are treated in main Low.
"I'm sure you have read about even this. There are those who think that our ways are wrong, that we value our own blood too much, and for the wrong reasons. There will be some who will hate you upon sight. I advise you to ignore them, unless they strike out against you; in which case, you must strike back, my darling, not necessarily with your hooves or your horns but with your wits, and with knowing what things are right in your heart."
These were all very big ideas. Boula only felt more sick and nervous, but her mother was getting so into things that she didn't dare stop her.
"Out of everyone, however," her mother said, "the ones that you must watch against the most are other ungu. I don't know how the world has changed since I was last in it, but there are certain things that come through the borders, which are not often spoken of.
Her hoof scuffed the high mountains at the opposite edge of Low. "Tonsor — they inhabit the lands closest to darkness. I am sure that you are aware their wool is the most conductive of any kind. They can be a sharp folk, fast-witted and sometimes insulting — they are friends of Terrai — they love amusement and can be fickle. So be careful in trusting them.
"Frux is another clan that often send their own to universities. They come from the drier plains, where there are often dark storms. It is for this reason that their clan supply much of the rare, pliant wool, but their kind is very solemn, and they do not make much of their lives public.
"That aside, there is also —"
"Mother," Boula interrupted, "how do you know all this? These have to be only rumors. I don't see how everyone that I may meet at school would adhere to these cruel things."
Ginnie frowned. "It's true that they may not," she said, "but I only wish to arm you in preparation, so you are not confused, so you are not hurt. Wish the best of people, of course, but I'm telling you, they will also be aware of the rumors of the Terrai folk. Oh, did you not think that others believed things of us too? They regard us as a narcissistic bunch, beautiful but also capable of foul temper and easy physical aggression. This description does happen to suit someone we know very well, don't you think, my mountain goat?"
They grinned at each other.
"But alas, if you have no wish for all the gossip of the ungu lands, then I will spare you. I only wish to warn you of this last clan" — she pointed towards a shadow labeled Gia in the rocky portions of the Feathered Trenches — "who for certain are quite old in their ways of thinking. And to be frank, my love, they may not take to you well, specifically, because you are baa'er. They prize well-hanging hair as any ever did in the pastoral days. If you see hate from them, this is why."
She sighed and began to roll up the paper. "It is true that there have been bad and deadly things in our own past, but do not lose faith in your family and your clan, for we love you, and do not lose faith in this world, for it has more to offer than you may immediately see. Should you ever forget," she said finally, "only look at this."
It was a compact mirror — a small shell of a thing with a large compressible button to open it, easy for sometimes clumsy ungu digits. Boula opened it. Inside was a large mirror and a comb.
"This will make it easy for us to contact you while you are so far away."
"Thank you, mother!"
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