Mini-Challenge: Words
And ... we're back to fae again.
Inyamenna appears to have been possessed by the evil spirit of Binnilinde. I really must exorcise her and get her a personality of her own before it's too late *horror chord*
Inya rushed to the door as it opened, shrilling in delight, and then stopped. A stranger, albeit a gloriously coloured one, was standing there in the doorway with Thalian.
"Morning, Tadpole," Thalian said in absent greeting. "Stop blocking the door."
She backed away a few paces, her eyes fixed with what she hoped was a forbidding chill on the Intruder. Today was her day. She and Thalian were supposed to go out to the Maluthi Hills. Even darling Maios knew he wasn't supposed to go along on Her Days, and there was absolutely no way she was having this stranger butting in.
"Eaten?" asked Thalian, flicking some of her hair out of her face as he passed her. He was heading towards his room. "- This won't take a minute, Cochalyon. Have a seat wherever you like, please."
"I've eaten," Inya replied clearly, snatching back the conversation. As soon as Thalian's back was turned, she levelled a more open glare at the Intruder. "We don't have to go to the Well first. We can go straight to the hills."
Thalian's reply came back just before his door slid closed behind him. "Sorry, Inya, I'll have to take you out tomorrow. I'm busy today."
The door shut, eliminating any chance for a reply.
Inya stayed where she was, struck dumb by the suddenness of it. Then she walked slowly over to the table, sitting down on a stool to drink from the water-bowl. It helped her stay calm.
After a pause, the Intruder also approached the table, settling down carefully at the other end. He was adult-shape as well, taller than Thalian, with hair the colour of sunflowers and wings mottled in triple shades of summer-yellow.
She wished she could pull all his hair and lovely feathers out.
The Intruder half-flared out his wings, a startling gesture that seemed to come in place of a proper hello. He wasn't even wearing a shirt. "You must be the famous Inyamenna."
She looked back at him balefully.
"Definitely," the Intruder said. "I'm Cochalyon. Nice to meet you."
"You should take your wings off when you come inside," replied Inya with a cool look, not returning the polite bow of his head.
The yellowy Intruder tugged on one end of a pinion and smiled regretfully. "They're stuck, I'm afraid."
"Oh, I'll sing them off for you."
"I'd rather you didn't. We'll be gone soon, don't worry."
Inya folded her arms and rested her chin on them, keeping a cool, flinty gaze on the other. Yes, gone, running away with my brother, who likes you better than me. I'll show you.
"I like your house," said the Intruder after a silent look around the room, turning his bright, sky-light gaze back towards her. "Arathalian said you haven't been here very long."
She propped her chin up on one arm and dipped the fingers of her other hand in the water-bowl, flicking them onto the tabletop and swirling the spatters around to write, refusing to look at him - directly, anyway.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him tilt his head.
"This city's quite big, isn't it?" he tried again. Even his voice was brightly coloured. She added it to her list of hates. "I heard you come from a much smaller place. That must be hard."
She continued to pretend that the water was the most fascinating thing in the world. It was certainly more appealing than talking at this moment.
"Don't you want to have a little talk?" asked the Intruder in a mild tone. There was something unusual about his attitude - the less she said, the more he seemed to speak. "I've been looking forward to talking with you. I've heard a lot about you."
Swirl, swirl, swirl. Inya smiled airily to herself. Another silence dragged on.
"Well." Wasn't he giving up yet? Was he as dumb as he was fluffy? "Arathalian tells me you want to be a Quicksilver too once you've shifted."
Inya coolly finished tracing another sigil in the water. The smudgy mark for 'begone' now gleamed wetly on the tabletop. She started to streak more water droplets around it into swirly lines.
"You'd really better join soon," said the Intruder. "It's very important in this life to make a good name for your family, you know, and just between you and me -" the silver voice dropped - "Arathalian's no good at all."
Her attention jumped back, splashing like the water had.
"He is so," she hissed.
"No, I'm afraid not," the Intruder replied, shaking his head. "I've fought with him in quite a few battles now, and I've had to conclude that he's a total squeaky-mouse."
"He is not!"
"But he is! When the ironbloods come, he runs off behind the nearest tree and cries!"
"He does not!"
Inya leaped up on her chair, unable to bear it any more, and ran across the tabletop so she could stab a threatening finger down at the Intruder's openly grinning face. "You're a liar and an ironblood pig!"
"How would you know?" he asked in apparent surprise. "I've never seen you at one of these battles. You can hear all his crying for yourself when you join the Quicksilvers."
"You are lying!" she yelled down at him in furious triumph. "Thalian doesn't make a noise when he cries!"
"Wow, you're really talking to me now, aren't you? - Are you sure about that?"
"Yes! The tears just come down his face! He goes away and sits on his own and doesn't make any noise at all - liar!" She snapped her fingers in front of his face, the only way to let an enemy know what their words were worth, and then waited for his response, quivering in her fury.
The Intruder started to laugh, and one of his yellow wings swept up so that the feather-tips brushed her face. "You're a little hurricane, sweetheart. I'm sorry I said those things. I was only playing. Arathalian's very lucky to have a sister like you."
Inya hesitated, still seething, but caught off-guard by a total recant. She was just starting to debate whether or not she'd won, or whether she should press the issue, when she happened to notice that Thalian had come back through the door.
He didn't look like he agreed with the Intruder's last remark.
Not at all.
"Get off the table," he said in his adult-shape voice, standing very stiff and still.
Inya looked down at the floor, which frankly contained nothing for her but an enraged older brother. "... No."
"Get off the table now."
"You'll smack me."
"You bet I will."
"Arathalian," interrupted the Intruder, standing up from his chair, "this is my fault, not hers. I teased her just a bit too hard."
"She still knows better than to jump up on tables and scream at guests," Thalian replied, staring straight up at Inya as he spoke. It was his scary Wait Until I Get You look. "I'm so sorry, Cochalyon."
"Oh, tish," the Intruder insisted as Inya started to shuffle cautiously along the table. He was grinning again - yes, fine for him! "Let me make you a bet. If I can have you up on that table with your sister and yelling in another few minutes, will you let her off?"
Thalian looked away from Inya, turning to the yellow-feathered visitor instead. They stared at each other in silence for a moment. The prickly-amused look in Thalian's eyes was the same as whenever she challenged him to a race in the child-shape.
"I'm not taking that bet," he snorted at last. "Get down, Inya."
Inya wondered if he thought her brain had melted. She stayed at the far end of the table.
"Get down, I said! You're off the hook ... but you do anything like this again and so help me I'll tan your hide, understand? Apologise to our guest - profusely - and thank him for the hide I haven't tanned today."
He wasn't my guest, she thought mutinously, but her behind really was happy about the status quo. She crawled down from the table to deliver her apologies and thanks accordingly.
"I'm sorry too, little whirlwind," returned Cochalyon, flicking her face with the tip of a wing again. "That was mean."
Inya fully agreed, and she was particularly mad that he'd caused all this in the first place, but she was still rather intrigued - and a little taken aback - by the fact that Thalian's wrath had been defused so easily.
The next night, following a slightly rainy day together in the hills, she decided he wasn't in a bad mood any more, and it was a good time to ask him why he hadn't taken the Intruder's bet.
He just laughed as if she'd just asked him to lift and carry one of the Maker-dragons. "He always beats me when it comes to words, Inya."
"Oh," she replied. "Like I always outrace you when we're both child-shape."
That was probably a mistake. There he was, back in a bad mood again.
Inyamenna appears to have been possessed by the evil spirit of Binnilinde. I really must exorcise her and get her a personality of her own before it's too late *horror chord*
Inya rushed to the door as it opened, shrilling in delight, and then stopped. A stranger, albeit a gloriously coloured one, was standing there in the doorway with Thalian.
"Morning, Tadpole," Thalian said in absent greeting. "Stop blocking the door."
She backed away a few paces, her eyes fixed with what she hoped was a forbidding chill on the Intruder. Today was her day. She and Thalian were supposed to go out to the Maluthi Hills. Even darling Maios knew he wasn't supposed to go along on Her Days, and there was absolutely no way she was having this stranger butting in.
"Eaten?" asked Thalian, flicking some of her hair out of her face as he passed her. He was heading towards his room. "- This won't take a minute, Cochalyon. Have a seat wherever you like, please."
"I've eaten," Inya replied clearly, snatching back the conversation. As soon as Thalian's back was turned, she levelled a more open glare at the Intruder. "We don't have to go to the Well first. We can go straight to the hills."
Thalian's reply came back just before his door slid closed behind him. "Sorry, Inya, I'll have to take you out tomorrow. I'm busy today."
The door shut, eliminating any chance for a reply.
Inya stayed where she was, struck dumb by the suddenness of it. Then she walked slowly over to the table, sitting down on a stool to drink from the water-bowl. It helped her stay calm.
After a pause, the Intruder also approached the table, settling down carefully at the other end. He was adult-shape as well, taller than Thalian, with hair the colour of sunflowers and wings mottled in triple shades of summer-yellow.
She wished she could pull all his hair and lovely feathers out.
The Intruder half-flared out his wings, a startling gesture that seemed to come in place of a proper hello. He wasn't even wearing a shirt. "You must be the famous Inyamenna."
She looked back at him balefully.
"Definitely," the Intruder said. "I'm Cochalyon. Nice to meet you."
"You should take your wings off when you come inside," replied Inya with a cool look, not returning the polite bow of his head.
The yellowy Intruder tugged on one end of a pinion and smiled regretfully. "They're stuck, I'm afraid."
"Oh, I'll sing them off for you."
"I'd rather you didn't. We'll be gone soon, don't worry."
Inya folded her arms and rested her chin on them, keeping a cool, flinty gaze on the other. Yes, gone, running away with my brother, who likes you better than me. I'll show you.
"I like your house," said the Intruder after a silent look around the room, turning his bright, sky-light gaze back towards her. "Arathalian said you haven't been here very long."
She propped her chin up on one arm and dipped the fingers of her other hand in the water-bowl, flicking them onto the tabletop and swirling the spatters around to write, refusing to look at him - directly, anyway.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him tilt his head.
"This city's quite big, isn't it?" he tried again. Even his voice was brightly coloured. She added it to her list of hates. "I heard you come from a much smaller place. That must be hard."
She continued to pretend that the water was the most fascinating thing in the world. It was certainly more appealing than talking at this moment.
"Don't you want to have a little talk?" asked the Intruder in a mild tone. There was something unusual about his attitude - the less she said, the more he seemed to speak. "I've been looking forward to talking with you. I've heard a lot about you."
Swirl, swirl, swirl. Inya smiled airily to herself. Another silence dragged on.
"Well." Wasn't he giving up yet? Was he as dumb as he was fluffy? "Arathalian tells me you want to be a Quicksilver too once you've shifted."
Inya coolly finished tracing another sigil in the water. The smudgy mark for 'begone' now gleamed wetly on the tabletop. She started to streak more water droplets around it into swirly lines.
"You'd really better join soon," said the Intruder. "It's very important in this life to make a good name for your family, you know, and just between you and me -" the silver voice dropped - "Arathalian's no good at all."
Her attention jumped back, splashing like the water had.
"He is so," she hissed.
"No, I'm afraid not," the Intruder replied, shaking his head. "I've fought with him in quite a few battles now, and I've had to conclude that he's a total squeaky-mouse."
"He is not!"
"But he is! When the ironbloods come, he runs off behind the nearest tree and cries!"
"He does not!"
Inya leaped up on her chair, unable to bear it any more, and ran across the tabletop so she could stab a threatening finger down at the Intruder's openly grinning face. "You're a liar and an ironblood pig!"
"How would you know?" he asked in apparent surprise. "I've never seen you at one of these battles. You can hear all his crying for yourself when you join the Quicksilvers."
"You are lying!" she yelled down at him in furious triumph. "Thalian doesn't make a noise when he cries!"
"Wow, you're really talking to me now, aren't you? - Are you sure about that?"
"Yes! The tears just come down his face! He goes away and sits on his own and doesn't make any noise at all - liar!" She snapped her fingers in front of his face, the only way to let an enemy know what their words were worth, and then waited for his response, quivering in her fury.
The Intruder started to laugh, and one of his yellow wings swept up so that the feather-tips brushed her face. "You're a little hurricane, sweetheart. I'm sorry I said those things. I was only playing. Arathalian's very lucky to have a sister like you."
Inya hesitated, still seething, but caught off-guard by a total recant. She was just starting to debate whether or not she'd won, or whether she should press the issue, when she happened to notice that Thalian had come back through the door.
He didn't look like he agreed with the Intruder's last remark.
Not at all.
"Get off the table," he said in his adult-shape voice, standing very stiff and still.
Inya looked down at the floor, which frankly contained nothing for her but an enraged older brother. "... No."
"Get off the table now."
"You'll smack me."
"You bet I will."
"Arathalian," interrupted the Intruder, standing up from his chair, "this is my fault, not hers. I teased her just a bit too hard."
"She still knows better than to jump up on tables and scream at guests," Thalian replied, staring straight up at Inya as he spoke. It was his scary Wait Until I Get You look. "I'm so sorry, Cochalyon."
"Oh, tish," the Intruder insisted as Inya started to shuffle cautiously along the table. He was grinning again - yes, fine for him! "Let me make you a bet. If I can have you up on that table with your sister and yelling in another few minutes, will you let her off?"
Thalian looked away from Inya, turning to the yellow-feathered visitor instead. They stared at each other in silence for a moment. The prickly-amused look in Thalian's eyes was the same as whenever she challenged him to a race in the child-shape.
"I'm not taking that bet," he snorted at last. "Get down, Inya."
Inya wondered if he thought her brain had melted. She stayed at the far end of the table.
"Get down, I said! You're off the hook ... but you do anything like this again and so help me I'll tan your hide, understand? Apologise to our guest - profusely - and thank him for the hide I haven't tanned today."
He wasn't my guest, she thought mutinously, but her behind really was happy about the status quo. She crawled down from the table to deliver her apologies and thanks accordingly.
"I'm sorry too, little whirlwind," returned Cochalyon, flicking her face with the tip of a wing again. "That was mean."
Inya fully agreed, and she was particularly mad that he'd caused all this in the first place, but she was still rather intrigued - and a little taken aback - by the fact that Thalian's wrath had been defused so easily.
The next night, following a slightly rainy day together in the hills, she decided he wasn't in a bad mood any more, and it was a good time to ask him why he hadn't taken the Intruder's bet.
He just laughed as if she'd just asked him to lift and carry one of the Maker-dragons. "He always beats me when it comes to words, Inya."
"Oh," she replied. "Like I always outrace you when we're both child-shape."
That was probably a mistake. There he was, back in a bad mood again.