(Untitled)

[soweroflife]

Kokopelli is outside. It's spring, back home, and he's restless as he always is in spring, unable to remain still. He wanders the grounds, smiling as he touches this tree, bends to examine that fern, every now and then finding a plant that needs a little help and retrieving a handful of something from his Bag, whispering softly as he tends to them

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[witchy_rebel]

Quietly,

"Kokopelli?" Her fingers have dirt on them, as do her feet - she forgot her boots, today.

[soweroflife]

He looks up at her, smiling tightly.

"Hello, sweetheart."

His voice is calm, although there's no saying how long it will stay that way, and he doesn't move, not yet.

[witchy_rebel]

Tangled hair, dark and more curly then silky now but she shoves it away from her pale face.

"You're not well," she says, softly.

[soweroflife]

"Not... feeling great, no," he admits, shifting a little so she can sit down. "You doing okay?"

She's more important, right now. She's grounding.

[not_ho_chunk]

In a shack by the lake, Wisakedjak is going about his daily business.

And then an earthenware pot is smashed on the floor, and he's flying, straight as an arrow, out of the door and into the bar and into Kokopelli's booth.

[soweroflife]

"They're burning my land, Jaybird."

[not_ho_chunk]

He switches forms, at that. The bird form can't display anger as well.

"Who?"

[soweroflife]

"I don't know. I can't tell where."

He tightens his arms around the Bag, sleeves tucked over his hands.

[nita_callahan]

". . . Kokopelli?"

There's a concerned Nita leaning against the other side of the booth.

[soweroflife]

He looks up and smiles tightly, a mix of weariness and pain flickering across his face before he manages to hide it.

"Hey, Nita."

[nita_callahan]

"You okay?"

Which is a stupid question, but it's what you say.

[soweroflife]

"Not feeling so great is all. I'll be fine."

She's mortal. He doesn't burden mortals with immortal troubles.