Samaria stared Lagi down as he held his hands in the water, steam rising from the surface of the small pond. For a moment she wondered- could it possibly be he was getting his first fire? But then she quickly dismissed the thought. That was ridiculous. If he hadn’t gotten his first fire by now, he wasn’t going to get it at age 20. That was totally unheard of. And men didn’t get a fever when they got their first fire anyways. Something was clearly wrong with him.

He stood and turned to her, but her eyes stayed trained on his hands. They should ask the elders, they might know what’s going on. They had to.

“We should be getting back to the beach. The feast is to start soon.”

The reminder was like a cold slap to the face, finally tearing Samaria’s eyes from Lagi’s hands. A stone fell into the pit of her stomach and she cursed in her mind. She had been hoping to sit out until the feast was over. Or at least halfway. But what was she supposed to say to Lagi? She couldn’t refuse.

She pushed herself to her feet, brushing her skirts to free them from the mixture of sand and dirt.

“Yeah,” she sighed, trying to conceal the frustration in her voice. “You’re right, let's go.”