Kya and Temperance were not quiet people. To remain silent in this place of worship was uncomfortable, but Temperance knew how much more uncomfortable she would feel if she broke that silence. Kya’s usually impassive expression now included the occasional twitch of her lip. Temperance feared that she might actually speak. Kya’s religious practices included a lot more sound than Salimah’s did.

However, Kya remained respectful. Even when the air chilled from Salimah’s musicless dance. The shaking of her layered dress, made specifically for the winter, for the north, for her worship, shone like water droplets under the sun.

It froze Temperance’s emotions, little by little, into a state of calm she barely ever attained. Even Kya’s near smile finally faded into her regular expression, though with eyes that saw more in this ritual than Temperance could understand.

Beads of sweat appeared on Salimah’s cheeks, from the limited amount of her that ever could be seen from under her dressage. Her exertion outweighed her prayer. For the moment.

Then Temperance realized why she felt uncomfortable. It was not staying silent here, it was the fact this place was silent despite Salimah’s dance. No sound of breath, no sound of footfall. Her exertion was the prayer, the fact it showed rather than not was more impressive than if the appearance was of ease.

Kya placed a hand on Temperance’s elbow. She looked over at her friend. Kya made a motion that Temperance didn’t understand. She would have to ask. After.

Salimah continued to pray.