Several females and younglings came forward carrying drinks--and something the Ranger had known only intellectually suddenly became an emotional reality to him. This was a family, as close and loving as any human family, and he was a part of it. Until now, no living human could testify to anything but Traiti enthusiasm and skill in battle. The remains of those who'd run into Traiti suicide commandos were even more eloquent. But these adolescent females offering glasses to the five from the Hermnaen weren't fighters. They were no taller than Tarlac, and he had adapted enough, thanks to the shipboard artwork, to think of them as attractive young ladies. The girl who approached him said something, smiling, took a sip from one of the two glasses she held and handed it to him, then touched his forehead. Hovan had told him about this; it was part of the adoption. It wasn't essential, but it was a good way to let him meet his new relatives and vice versa--as well as being a good excuse for a party. Tarlac took a small drink, returned the touch, and traded glasses to drink again. Then Hovan tapped him on the shoulder, and after they traded drinks and touches--just once, this time--he introduced the girls who had served the two of them, smiling widely. "Sharya and Casti my n'ka'esten are, from one birth." Tarlac greeted Casti as he had Sharya, impressed. Twin daughters! No wonder Hovan wanted to play the proud parent, with multiple births in any given clan averaging about a century apart. "I see why you asked me to restrain my curiosity, ruhar. It was worth the wait." Others, three boys and five women, one carrying an infant, joined them as he was attempting a polite comment to the girls in what little Language he knew. The first one Hovan introduced was Sandre, mother of the twins and the only open-shirted female Tarlac had seen. She had Honor scars identical to Hovan's, which surprised Tarlac for a moment since he knew she couldn't have taken the Ordeal. He decided--and later learned he was correct--that they must be because she'd borne the twins. He didn't know whether it was proper or not, but it shouldn't hurt to be polite; he gave her the respectful crossed-arm bow. It didn't. He heard approving comments, then she said one of the few things he understood: "You do me honor, ruhar," and traded drinks and touches. Tarlac had no time to reply before he had to greet the rest of what he could only think of as Hovan's immediate family. The last he met was the youngest, and when Tarlac reached to touch the baby girl, he found out the truth of something he'd heard about babies. They liked to taste things. Tarlac yelped, more in surprise than pain, pulled his finger out of her grasp, and ruefully inspected the small wounds. "Hey, youngster, I thought there was only supposed to be one exchange of blood." She gurgled happily at him while her mother spoke.