[Introduction: Zachry] Bronze be burnin'...

[no_kona_fodder]

[Spoiling the whole section of the novel]The bolt had entered the flesh just as they where entering Palalo track, and it'd been a wonder that Zachry hadn't fallen off the horse, another wonder yet that he'd caught on to Somni' auguring, and another again that the Kona had all fallen to their deaths in the river bed

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[drownedfuchsia]

Fuchsia's outside on the porch, enjoying the weather, and writing some poetry. She might be rather dusty from having spent a good portion of the last day in the attic, shoving things aside, looking for bits and pieces of furniture, trying to make herself a proper place.

Her room she's had for the past two years is nice enough, but now she wants a place for her imagination to run even wilder.

[no_kona_fodder]

This place is full of things and kinds of people Zachry's never seen before, so he's going to be crouching at a distance, examining her.

He's fascinated by the foreigner's poofy dress.

[drownedfuchsia]

Fuchsia takes a while in noticing she's being watched. (Coming up with rhymes is HARD.) When she does notice, she turns to stare back. The poofy dress making all sorts of accompanying crinkly noises.

He's a handsome stranger, and new.

"Who're you?" It's a demand as much as a question.

[no_kona_fodder]

"I'm Zachry o'Bayley's dwellin'," is the answer she gets from the... island rat? He's much younger than she is, and has good posture when he's not trying to be a sneak. "Don't mean to startle, sis, is just I never sawed anyone like you 'fore, 's'all..."

[drownedfuchsia]

Her lips thin as she thinks. Fuchsia really doesn't need another rat in her life. The one she has is almost omnipresent.

"What do you mean someone like me? A lady?" It's about now her poor self-esteem kicks in. "An old, ugly, woman?" Not that Fuchsia looks even remotely close to her age.

[no_kona_fodder]

"Some un wearin' all matter'n pile o'cloth," Zachry replies honestly. "In Honokaa, that'd be barterwise, yay. Not that there'll ever any barterin' now."

[drownedfuchsia]

"Bartering?" Fuchsia, who was already working up a decent offended tone, continues to work on it. The problem is, the two are having vastly different conversations.

"Sell my dress? No. It's mine."

[no_kona_fodder]

Blink blink.

"Naynay, sis," Zachry says quickly, "ain't no bart'rin' in Honokaa no more. Ain't no Honokaa no more, nay. Is just a sayin', one manner o'howzittin..."

[drownedfuchsia]

She does that to people. Welcome to the world of Fuchsia Groan.

"What do you mean there isn't Honokaa no -- any more?"

[no_kona_fodder]

"Ain't no Kolekole and no Honomu and no valleysmen, and so might's'well say ain't no bart'rin', 'cause ain't no bart'rin' with'm painted Konas, they ain't no civ'lize, sis, no no, they ain't, they be all but that, and they'll just take what they want and burn the rest, and so they did, so they did."

Zachry's face has gone from gentle curiosity to stoney anger.

He still remembers his dwellin' and the devastated school'ry.

[drownedfuchsia]

"That's not bartering, taking what you want."

That's what Fuchsia's taken out of that?

The change in expression has her backing away a little. "Did I make you mad?"

[no_kona_fodder]

What? Zachry blinks, hesitating, then shakes his head. "Nay, sis, I ain't pissin', nay. It's them Konas makin'me mem'ry bad thoughts, don't minder it more'n you would the clouds, it'll pass."

He huddles a little, wraps his arms around his legs, and is silent a bit.

"I'm Zachry Bailey."

[drownedfuchsia]

"Fuchsia."

She half crouches, to look at him more closely. Once she does, she takes a step back from him.

"Lady Fuchsia Groan." It's important to make that clear.

[no_kona_fodder]

Those words mean nothing to Zachry, except that they refer to her, so he nods.

"Yay, Lady Fuchsia Groan," he repeats. "It's a good name, Lady Fuchsia Groan. Of Groan's dwellin', yay?"

[drownedfuchsia]

"No, no. I am from Gormenghast Castle. My father was the Earl."

From a dwelling? "I'm not a Bright Carver. They live in mud dwellings."

[no_kona_fodder]

"Stone dwellin's, we had," Zachry replies. "And I ain't no carver. I'm a goatheardin' valleysman I am, yay, good'n true'n the last o Big I, yay. Last o'Big I."