)(

Hannah isn't looking very good, though the boy is huge and doing very well. Her mother, grandmother, great grandmother and a host of cousins and sisters where with her. This was not always a bad thing, for it allowed Hannah to not have to get up and do a single thing. When I walked down the steps after checking on her and letting every woman there know to let her sip broth if she didn't want to eat, make sure her stitches were clean after using the bathroom and even just laying for a long time, which would get me a slap from old fingers very time I tried to be discreet and say "Down there" being scolded about talking about another man's mates personal parts like that, but I would continue on. My cheeks were sore as I took a seat beside her Mate, who had his son against his chest with a look of pride I see on all Fathers holding a new born.

He chuckled looking over to me, just talking, he talked a lot that afternoon, perhaps it what he needed to mask the worry over his small young mates suffering to give him son. Not once did he bring up as he had done before about when to start another. He said in weak humor over being slapped also, when asking the women if it would be damaged forever down there. I even winched at that. Chuckling, to hide the compassion of thinking how many times he got hit, and maybe a look of....Thanks for making it rough on me also, as I'm sure any reference to Hannah's "Down there" at this point would bring more anger from the mass of women coming in and out all the wagons, cleaning, cooking, cooking, cleaning as if it was a whole tribe of babies born and not just one. I told him to be happy so many are there to help, for when more children came, life wouldn't be so easy.

After a look over the baby, who was being fed by his mother and Hannah's sister, for her milk was taking longer the normal to come down. He was a big boy, again pride in he Father's voice saying his son was so well formed he had to be fed by four breast like a Bull calf. Hence the young child was coined...Bull.

I bid my Be Well's to everyone, even little Bull, before starting towards the Ubar's fires. I hoped to get around to seeing the Weaver's Father, but soon enough I hope. The days were flowing as usual for me. I had yet to speak to the Ubar to any extent beyond my name and clan. Not sure what I would say to him anyway. Commander of Commanders, keeper of Tribe, that was a station that just seemed far from anything I could truly comprehend.

Last night I ran into Tarra, the woman who's arm I pulled a wood shard from a couple days ago. She seemed to be doing fine. She was with another woman, a Healer, who had broken her arm. I didn't get the full story behind it, beyond she fell from the kaiila and was clearly dazed. There was a slight bit of resistance in help, but its the way of a Healer, I think we all are like that. I would rather be there for someone before I take care of myself. Nature desire to care for others. I was feeling the warmth at the back of my neck that I use to have while learning. Not a nervous but the instinct to dominate at my trade. To take over and conquer any task. I think that is more of a man's feeling to be a man. I felt this while working on the woman Tarra, though my words are cool, kind and to the point. I was feeling that now, as my fingers touched the skin of the other healer. She amused me. When she was on her kaiila, and steady, I was sure she would be checked on, I started back towards my wagons. Had new strings of beads to put up.