Yes, but not right away.

Johanna folded the clothes back up. “Thank you, Vissnar. I’ll keep my rags on for today, but these clothes seem more suitable for the environment.” Johanna had a feeling Vissnar was hoping she’d change out of her clothes right in front of him, but while the Chosen clearly had no issue with nudity, stripping down in front of a man she just met still felt a bit inappropriate. And there was something else that was bothering her… “Are the Chosen all male? I did not see any women or children aboveground.”

The elder smiled, showing a row of sharp teeth, before answering Johanna. “All Chosen are born male, yes. We’ve not had an actual birth in years, of course, since the woman who made those clothes you’re carrying gave birth to Grosh and Lorn. Every Chosen was born of a human woman, but we live long lives, and Mother rebirths us as needed.” Vissnar paused for a moment, perhaps feeling that he had spoken too much, before gesturing down one of the tunnels exiting the room. “You’ll have plenty of time to learn about us later, though. New life does not often come to these shores, tonight we must celebrate your arrival with a feast! There is much to do, follow along and become acquainted with your new home.”

Johanna followed Vissnar as he began walking. Calling this her new home was somewhat presumptuous, but then, his claim that ‘Mother does not give up those she has taken in’ seemed to indicate that none of the other humans who washed up on this island managed to escape, which would perhaps explain how the island remained uncharted for so long. More concerning, though, was the thought that the woman who made these clothes was not only a human, likely shipwrecked here just like Johanna, but that she had evidently taken a mate from among the Chosen and given birth to the very hunter who captured Johanna this morning. Johanna suddenly imagined herself, clad in the primitive clothing and swollen with child. The thought was disturbing, and she put it from mind, instead focusing on learning the layout of the tunnels and chambers that Vissnar was guiding her through.

The Chosen were clearly talented tunnelers, and the pair passed through two dining halls, a kitchen, a forge, a large room with a bathing pool, several rooms devoted to storage, a number of empty chambers, and enough bedrooms that she lost count. Apparently the Chosen numbered less than one hundred in total, but the underground network could easily house five times that number, if Vissnar was to be believed. According to the narrative he spun as they walked from room to room, occasionally grabbing a package or exchanging words with another Chosen, the system of tunnels spread from one end of the island to the other, parts of it having been carved over a thousand years ago when the tribe was larger. Johanna suspected he was exaggerating a little, but he certainly wasn’t lying when he said they had space for her.

“There are a number of rooms, furnished but uninhabited, and you’re welcome to claim one of them,” Vissnar paused, turned back to Johanna, and gave that dangerous smile again, “Of course, if you’d prefer to share a bed, we can be accommodating in that regard, too.” Johanna gave the old Chosen a glare that said that no, she wouldn’t prefer that, and he chuckled darkly before continuing the tour. Walking the tunnels had taken most of the day, and he was pointing out a place where the tunnels exited up into the Skinning Tent when Grosh appeared behind them, announcing that the feast was ready, and that they should start quickly if they wanted to avoid the storm. Johanna was frankly exhausted from following Vissnar through the labyrinthine halls belowground, and the idea of food was welcome. The three climbed the nearest ladder up, into what Johanna now knew was the smaller portion of the village, and moved towards the sound of chatter and a roaring bonfire.