[o] Blackberry blues

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

A soft wind blew through fallowing leaves, outlining them in ruby and gold. Half again as many littered the ground and turned the forest into a bejeweled cathedral, a throne room of kings to which a wanderer had been granted access. She walked with her back bent between silvery aspen and white birches, kneeling occasionally to uncover the season's treasures. The basket carried in the crook of an arm was close to full, brimming with bounty; chanterelles and black trumpet mushroom crowded alongside rowanberry clusters, hawthorn berries and a precious little pouch of cloudberries picked along the edge of a moor. Already a full bag of wild apples weighed heavy on her shoulders, but it seemed a shame to return so soon - it wasn't even noon yet. 
A rustle in the vegetation had her looking up. Something big was moving through the sparsening underbrush. Through a pale curtain of hair Maea watched how a moose emerged from the woods, stepping gracefully over blueberry barrens and moss-capped stone to ease itself down the river bank. Thinking it might cross to the other side, she remained still, holding her breath. It was a bull, larger than any she'd seen, its antlers a crown of bone long since shed of their velvet coating. He looked to be nearing the end of his prime; no doubt many a young fool had tried their mettle against his strength, and no doubt he'd reigned surpreme for this Leafchange as well. Next year... who knew how that would go? There would always be new challengers, and sooner or later someone would take his place. 
The moose paused, as if sensing her gaze, and for a second their eyes locked. Did he resent the impending change, she wondered? Did he even know it was coming? There was such calm in those honey-brown eyes; if he did know, how did he live in peace with that knowledge? An Attuned might have been able to ask. But she wasn't so fortunate, and the spell was broken a moment later, as the bull heaved a snorting sigh and turned away to surge into the river. Steady and sure on its feet, it swam through the rapids and emerged on the opposite shore, rising with water sloughing off in glistening sheets. A cloud of biters followed, like a pesky retinue swarming around a ruler that did not deign to notice them - and a moment later she found herself alone once more. 

Breathing out slowly, the woman sank down onto a mossy boulder, the basket nestled into the brush by her feet. Peace... She would love even a measure of what she'd seen in those eyes. Coming home had offered some relief, but whenever she wasn't burying herself in chores, that serenity began to fray. Heavy thoughts crowded her horizon like stormclouds, inviting nightmares back where none had been for a good few seasons. Dreams of falling, dreams of sinking down into a sea where no light could reach, and a recurring old one where a monster stalked around the hose she hid in, only for it to be revealed that she'd been the monster all along. Even thinking about them now, in broad daylight, left a acrid taste on her tongue. Pushing herself up like one trying to outrun some unseen enemy, Maea hoisted the basket back on her harm, adjusted a strap and set off downhill towards the river that glittered just past a row of trees. Maybe if she spent another hour or two fishing, that would be enough foraging for the day. And once she got home she could clean the haul, lay mushrooms out to dry, and try that recipe for blackberry preserve she had found on a shelf in the pantry. Then there was the books, the list of herbs she wanted to plant in the garden she wanted to establish come Flowerbirth, not to mention the constant work in progress that was her new workshop... 

No, she certainly did not lack for things to keep herself occupied. Surely it had to be enough to keep her out of trouble. Surely.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

I didn't come here to make friends
We were born to be suburban legends

Aithne has never been to the Greatwood before.

It's nothing like Stormbreak, where green spaces are limited to what little area is allowed by the city. Nor is it like the Climb, where vegetation is sparse and shriveled. The Greatwood is a riot of autumnal reds and golds, with just as many leaves on the ground as are on the trees. The forest is anything but quiet, the sounds of animals finishing their preparations for winter echoing through the tangled boughs above and the rambling roots below. It's something new. Something different.

Aithne isn't sure what to make of it.

She roams the woods along a river apparently known as the Stone Symphony, skipping across tributaries and prowling the riverbank for no other reason than simply a vague interest in exploring. She is bundled in warmer clothing than the day really calls for, just in case she gets lost and has to spend a night outside the comfort of an inn. An oversized sweater hangs from a shoulder, revealing a second, tighter layer of clothing beneath; large hoop earrings hang from her ears, glinting from within the masses of black curls that radiate from her head, nearly hiding her horns from view. Rings glimmer from most of her fingers, and a few necklaces disappear into the depths of her sweater. She wears a pair of twin daggers at her hips - not that she needs them. Her Fyrhund shift prowls just beneath her skin, forever present and ready to be unleashed.

A rustle in the brush ahead gives the girl pause, and she sneaks behind a tree as a moose comes into view: a large, regal bull who surely has the run of the forest. On another day, he might make for a fine hunt - but not only has Aithne's bloodlust recently been satisfied, but even she is not so foolish as to take on a fully grown bull moose on her own. Not one who seems to have seen so very much of life as this one. Instead, she merely watches as it goes on its way, then steps from behind her tree to continue her meandering path down the banks of the river.

When you hold me, it holds me together
And you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Aithne

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Pausing only long enough to cut a sapling to fashion into a fishing rod, Maea picked off twigs as she walked the edge of the forest, searching for a good spot to fish. When a tongue of exposed bedrock appeared that jutted into the river, she emerged from the treeline into the bright sunlight. Dressed like a Fae in sleek hunting leathers of earthen tones, with a cloak cut to knee length and twisted to leave an arm free, she could have been one of them; wingless but just as small and lithe, stepping lightly through the vegetation like she'd always been meant to be there. A long braid roped over one shoulder caught the sunlight and fairly glowed against the colorful backdrop; pale as snow, pale as the bark of the birch trees leaning out over the rapids and the horns that arched out from above the temples. Like a signpost that announced her nature, if by chance the long tail had escaped notice.

Setting down her burdens, Maea rolled out her shoulders and began rummaging through the outside pockets of the backpack for hook and line. Another flurry of movement nearby had her looking up, half expecting to see the moose come back; but it was a person, this time. Young and somewhat misplaced in her finery, the girl looked vaguely familiar from a distance though she couldn’t immediately recall who, or where, or when.

Lifting a hand in mute greeting, just to be on the safe side, the ancient went back to her own business. Finding the small box with fishing gear with a pleased hum, she sat down on her heels and began to untangle a line, patiently threading it in, around and through, searching for the end that would be tied to the rod she'd made.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

I didn't come here to make friends
We were born to be suburban legends

Aithne wanders, vaguely following the moose, but with no real intent behind doing so. No doubt the creature will disappear long before she gets near it, off into the woods while the Ancient sticks to the river. It is, after all, the only sure way to make sure she gets where she's going. The girl has heard the tales of travelers lost in the Greatwood, and even if she's content to wander, she has no intentions of losing her way.

A flash of something pale catches Aithne's attention, and she pauses in her meandering to check it out. She is surprised when another Ancient looks back at her from down the riverbank, even going so far as to wave at her before going back to whatever it is that she's doing. The girl blinks, watching with a curiosity that can't quite be smothered. A part of her recognizes that the stranger is minding her own business, and that if she'd wanted to converse, she'd have started a conversation. But the other part of her - the part who has never met a stranger - decides that the woman looks lonely. And who better to solve that little dilemma than Aithne?

So she all but skips along the riverbank, approaching the stranger with a bright smile. "Whatcha doin'?" she asks as she approaches, stopping a polite distance away and cocking her head to one side as she takes in the stick, and the line, and the... whatever else it is that the stranger has surrounding her. While Aithne personally thinks that hunting in a shift might be easier than fishing, perhaps the stranger has her reasons.

When you hold me, it holds me together
And you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Aithne

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Expecting the person to move on, like the moose had, Maea focused on her own intentions. Thus it startled her to be addressed; flinching subtly she hissed as her thumb caught on the sharp edge of the hook and sucked on the beading droplet of blood as she shuffled around on her heels to look up.
"Hm? Oh. I'm making a fishing rod." gesturing with her free hand from the supple length of the sapling to the hook and line. "Just a simple one; makes it so I don't have to hold the line waiting for the fish to bite."

From up close, the girl seemed even more out of place, like she had set out on a stroll through a city and somehow got lost in the woods. Not an impossible turn of events given where they were - or perhaps Maea was simply unaccustomed to wearing jewelry, as all she really saw were traps to get caught on and precious things to lose in a moment of carelessness. Perhaps the youth weren't clumsy like her.

"Are you alright out here? Know where you are?" Asking lightly, it was mostly for her own peace of mind. Preferring to believe a traveler capable spared them both awkward corrections and injured pride. Lately Maea had been working on her tendency to offer things before any need was expressed; at best overeager, at worst a tendency towards people pleasing she'd rather not feed into.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

I didn't come here to make friends
We were born to be suburban legends

It has never occurred to Aithne to make a fishing rod - and certainly she has never considered fishing to be a pastime she wishes to partake in. So she stares curiously at the stranger, and the way her hands deftly craft the rod and line, openly intrigued by this turn of events. "That sounds useful," she says, and it's only half a lie - it does sound useful, for someone who isn't Aithne. Maybe it's the lingering socialite in the girl, but she can't imagine a situation in which she would be found in the stranger's shoes.

So absorbed is she in her thoughts that the woman's next question catches her off guard, and the younger Ancient tosses her hair over her shoulder with a scoff. "Not a clue," she says, but tempers the reaction with a feral grin. "But that's half the fun of being out here, isn't it?" She doesn't mind being a little lost - not so long as she has the river to follow back. Surely with that, she'll be alright.

When you hold me, it holds me together
And you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Aithne

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

"Indeed it is," she agreed. Enduring the girl's curiosity with what patience she possessed, Maea kept her hands busy, so that before long she could bring the finished rod towards the river's edge. Finding herself a nice flat piece of ground to sit on, she added bait to the hook, made herself comfortable and cast the line into the stream.

"I suppose, yes. And the Greatwood is among the better places to be lost in." She'd chosen to remain here for a season, after all. "As long as you don't mind being displaced by the trees... happens a lot, especially to newcomers." And to long term residents too, if not as frequently. A year into her stay beneath the enchanted canopy was still testing her patience sometimes, and teaching her plenty about relaxing her expectations when it came to time keeping and punctuality.
Gazing into the stream, she watched the younger woman from the periphery of her vision, curious to see whether she intended to keep playing tag with the horizon, or linger. Surprisingly, she didn't mind either way; even if she had been enjoying her solitude, company had become less of a strain than it used to be - not that she'd ever likely because a true extrovert.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

I didn't come here to make friends
We were born to be suburban legends

"Oh, does it?" Aithne says, curious now about the trees that seemingly have a mind of their own. Perhaps that is why she's managed to wander so far from the village - not that she minds, particularly. It's an interesting enough place to be lost, and she has the confidence of a youth who has not yet been bested by life in Caido. In other words, she's not worried about running into trouble. Surely, with her shift, she can handle anything that the world chooses to throw at her.

Ah, but she's bordering on pestering the other woman now. She was raised with manners, even if she rarely chooses to follow the social constructs into which she was born. "Well, I'll let you get back to your fishing," she says, cheerful and chipper as she springs to her feet. "It was nice meeting you. I'm Aithne, by the way," she adds as an afterthought. Then, realizing that she has more questions than answers, she tilts her head to one side. "Do you live here? Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

fin

When you hold me, it holds me together
And you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Aithne