He came just after Bawal, for whom Yu brought the sixth bowl. By the time he brought the seventh, Jerakill was also with the fireplace group, while the borman had seated himself alone at one of the empty tables near the kitchen entrance. It was the tallest and the only one made of stone, a slab-like construction with thick legs like columns and three massive chairs around it. Yu had to pass him each time as he went out and in, and then out and in again to serve the two brannok. Four times in total. Four turns of that massive head following his every move.
Bormen had tiny, beady eyes set deeply into their faces, which meant that they always moved their whole head to look around. And they did look. It was disturbing, especially when there were more of them. When there was a pack of them out in the open and settlement people passed by, you could see them literally turn, from person to person as their attention shifted, the same thick motion replicated across every neck. It was creepy to watch, and even worse when it was your turn.
Yu knew what bormen were. Everyone in the settlements knew. You needed to watch them, always, because they could lash out any second, without pattern of warning and without provocation. They could turn on you from any distance, for anything or nothing at all. But it was one thing to know that, and another to feel it. It was one thing to pass danger in the street, keeping your head down, and measuring your five plus one steps plus as many more as possible. And then it was an entirely different kind of terror to see the danger staring back at you; when a bunch of three meter brutes all together, suddenly, angled their massive heads and focussed solemnly on you.
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