Private Tales Silver Stars and Golden Bars

[Rahma]

And just like that, Rahma was wrapped around Masika's finger. Not many could say they had petted Rahma, and fewer still could say they had without having their fingers broken or severed. For Masika, Rahma leaned into the attention longingly.

“My good boy.”

He shivered in delight. That's right...for tonight, at the very least, he belonged to her. Rahma was hers to do with as she pleased. The excitement was nearly unbearable! His tail only wagged faster and faster, his ears tucking down submissively.

Masika's home was...humble, but also so cozy. It was a space built with care and love, that much was apparent. If this were another day, another time, he might have tried to play with or talk to the parrot. He might have sat down immediately and started getting comfortable by the fire.

Bathed in the warm light of those flames, however, Rahma could see the visage of the woman who was to own him tonight, and he dared not move without her permission.
"I'm okay, Miss Masika...maybe just some water." He answered her softly. She didn't need to know the finer details, but whatever beastly part of him there was let him hold his alcohol exceedingly well. His head was swimming a bit, sure, but Masika would not find his endurance wanting.

 

[Masika]

“Pepper pepper pepper pepper pepper paaaancaaaaakes!” Femi squawked, ruining the mood between the two. Masika broke character, a sheepish smile appearing. As Femi repeated the words, bobbing its head up and down and moving side to side on it’s hanging perch, Masika stood up.

“Sit down on the bed,” Masika said, pointing to her neatly-made bed with blankets she had woven herself. She went off to fetch Rahma a glass of water from the ceramic pitcher on her small kitchen counter and also opened up a small basket made from woven reeds. She went over to Femi, and held up three shucked pistachios.

“Femi, do you want a pistachio?” The parrot immediately went quiet and cocked its head to the side to get a better look at Masika. “Shhh. Quiet time.” She waited a moment, and with the bird not saying anything, she rewarded it with a pistachio. She repeated it two more times and then handed the copper cup to Rahma. She then went back to the parrot, holding out a finger for Femi to hold onto before putting him in his cage and placing a thin sheet.

“As long as it’s dark he’ll be quiet.” Masika explained, “No matter how much noise you make.” The assertive, smug tone was back, matching the look on her face as she strode over to Rahma, placing her hands firmly on his shoulders and beginning to knead. “Take this off. Now. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Rahma