Nexus Islands and Beyond, Friday Fandom-Time
They'd been researching human tales for weeks now, and getting no closer to any sort of answers. It had been Blind Seer who'd finally suggested seeking out the tales of the yarimaimalom on the mainland; their people had been around for the Fire Plague, but unlike the humans, had remained untouched by it. Perhaps their stories might have more useful information.
"Going back to your forests, Lady Firekeeper?" the woman keeping watch over the Gate to the New World asked, in her halting, accented Liglimosh.
"Going there. Will come back in three days. Not today in count. Three days after this one."
"About what time?" the woman, Kalyndra, asked.
Tell her dawn of the fourth day, Blind Seer suggested. This will give us a little more time, without inconveniencing them. Firekeeper translated this, and Kalyndra seemed to understand. That settled, she got to work on the spell needed to open the gate.
In their night of running, Firekeeper and Blind Seer crossed the territories of several packs and visited with them.
The local wolves were pleased to hear tales from along the trail the pair had run- and not just the trail of the last few days, but of all of Firekeeper and Blind Seer's wanderings. They were even more pleased to counter with their own stories, for wolves delight in besting each other.
In this mood of friendly competition, Firekeeper wanted to come right out and ask for tales from the days before the Fire Plague. However, Blind Seer wished to be more indirect, and she followed his lead. After all, Blind Seer's keen nose shouted to him what she only heard as whispers. If he sensed reason for caution, she would walk softly, watching where he set his paws, and taking care to break not even a twig.
But when they left the second pack behind them and were alone in open country, Firekeeper couldn't hold the question in any longer.
"Why do you not simply ask what it is we want to know? You did when we were farther east, but now you dance around the question like the pack cutting a slow runner from the herd," she asked, pulling her phone from the pouch she carried with her and poking carefully at the buttons to see if anyone had left messages. She did not know how it still operated in a world with no electricity, but she wasn't going to question it.
"Farther east I asked more openly, and now I do regret it, as I think rumor of our interest has run before us. Remember how the tales we heard when we were small went back and back, reaching to stories that must have had their source in the days before human ships even touched the shores?"
"I do."
"Do you remember when our mother told us the story of the songbirds? how she was unhappy to share with us such a dark tale, one that spoke so poorly of our kind?"
"I do."
"When I herded the tales to the days when humans came, preparing to ask our question, I scented an odor I had not caught since that day. A sour odor of troubled bowels and uneasy stomach. At first I did not make the connection, but memory brought it to me. Then I noticed that the One Male who was then our host was shedding rather more than the season might merit, and the One Female had slid back into her den although to that point she had been eager enough to meet us."
"I remember. I thought the puppies must have wakened, although I had heard nothing."
"Their whimpers came after. I decided to hold my question, and when I let the One Male take our talk elsewhere, the sour smells ebbed."
"And the One Female returned to see us off," Firekeeper added.
"The same happened at this last pack," Blind Seer said. "Similar scents, this time from the Ones and the elder who we were told had been a One in his time."
"So something is being hidden from us," Firekeeper realized.
"I think so."
"Something is being hidden from us," Firekeeper repeated, with a growing anger. "Again."
[ooc: establishy, but can totes be open for calls omg.]
"Going back to your forests, Lady Firekeeper?" the woman keeping watch over the Gate to the New World asked, in her halting, accented Liglimosh.
"Going there. Will come back in three days. Not today in count. Three days after this one."
"About what time?" the woman, Kalyndra, asked.
Tell her dawn of the fourth day, Blind Seer suggested. This will give us a little more time, without inconveniencing them. Firekeeper translated this, and Kalyndra seemed to understand. That settled, she got to work on the spell needed to open the gate.
In their night of running, Firekeeper and Blind Seer crossed the territories of several packs and visited with them.
The local wolves were pleased to hear tales from along the trail the pair had run- and not just the trail of the last few days, but of all of Firekeeper and Blind Seer's wanderings. They were even more pleased to counter with their own stories, for wolves delight in besting each other.
In this mood of friendly competition, Firekeeper wanted to come right out and ask for tales from the days before the Fire Plague. However, Blind Seer wished to be more indirect, and she followed his lead. After all, Blind Seer's keen nose shouted to him what she only heard as whispers. If he sensed reason for caution, she would walk softly, watching where he set his paws, and taking care to break not even a twig.
But when they left the second pack behind them and were alone in open country, Firekeeper couldn't hold the question in any longer.
"Why do you not simply ask what it is we want to know? You did when we were farther east, but now you dance around the question like the pack cutting a slow runner from the herd," she asked, pulling her phone from the pouch she carried with her and poking carefully at the buttons to see if anyone had left messages. She did not know how it still operated in a world with no electricity, but she wasn't going to question it.
"Farther east I asked more openly, and now I do regret it, as I think rumor of our interest has run before us. Remember how the tales we heard when we were small went back and back, reaching to stories that must have had their source in the days before human ships even touched the shores?"
"I do."
"Do you remember when our mother told us the story of the songbirds? how she was unhappy to share with us such a dark tale, one that spoke so poorly of our kind?"
"I do."
"When I herded the tales to the days when humans came, preparing to ask our question, I scented an odor I had not caught since that day. A sour odor of troubled bowels and uneasy stomach. At first I did not make the connection, but memory brought it to me. Then I noticed that the One Male who was then our host was shedding rather more than the season might merit, and the One Female had slid back into her den although to that point she had been eager enough to meet us."
"I remember. I thought the puppies must have wakened, although I had heard nothing."
"Their whimpers came after. I decided to hold my question, and when I let the One Male take our talk elsewhere, the sour smells ebbed."
"And the One Female returned to see us off," Firekeeper added.
"The same happened at this last pack," Blind Seer said. "Similar scents, this time from the Ones and the elder who we were told had been a One in his time."
"So something is being hidden from us," Firekeeper realized.
"I think so."
"Something is being hidden from us," Firekeeper repeated, with a growing anger. "Again."
[ooc: establishy, but can totes be open for calls omg.]