Paying My Respects

It occurs to me as I resign… nay, settle myself in his company, that eve’s breath draws ever nearer: I won’t beat the darkness now, I sigh inwardly. Mother always worries for my safety and this will upset her. So too do I realise that Jigano and Isuma will be venturing between graves in the same, to reach their destination. It reminds me of the warning I’d issued before he’d spoken from his cover and things had turned awry. Had he been listening? It all leads me further to wonder whether the Cat Sith will be prowling Ludo’s Wood tonight. Hopefully not… At the same time, my eyes are tracing the silvered silhouette of his pale, elegant figure as it folds down upon the soil a polite distance from myself. I conclude, amid my pensive silence, that he looks nothing like the woman which had been lost in The Wildwood on the other occasion, weeks ago; further still, I decide that he seems to be considerably more interesting given his bond with Caido’s wildlife. And he is principled. I think. “…Delah and Arduinna…” The unexpected mention of my kin by their names jerks me from thought and the reflective glaze that had  been carelessly let to wash through my expression momentarily, disperses. Eyes divert to the sombre scarlet of nearby timber, though the arrival of the endearing child between us beckons them to return. My hand lifts in their stead and presents placidly for inspection. I hope she will accept. From some sub-conscious level in my mind, I am able to pluck the words that had been given by Jigano firstly, and I am wholly relieved that my ears, at least, have been paying attention. It is for the sake of the Fae and because I cannot lie, though, that I choose to answer the way I do: “those you speak of would not approve.” The tone accompanying is honest, almost grave, for the seriousness of this situation I am in, suddenly dawns. I almost apologise, but clean, white teeth descend swiftly to intervene; perhaps their click is heard beyond the startled press of my lips. Instead, with a weak smile, I am able to reveal: “you can know that I weave baskets.” A gesture I earnestly hoped might quench his thirst for such answers. My worry is masked by innocent optimism as I hope that Delah’s scouts are occupied elsewhere. My heart has begun again to pound in my chest. Betraying an oath was not on today’s bucket list, and while I don’t feel I have done this (exactly), guilt gnaws angrily at my self-confidence. My nerves tingle. Perhaps it is time to leave.

Isuma, ever curious, usually courageous, had no qualms at all about pattering over to investigate Hazel's outstretched hand, nibbling fingertips gently with her beak in avian investigation before butting her soft feathered head against the Fae's palm in an age-old entreaty for scratches behind her rounded feline ears. She chirruped encouragingly, even as the young woman spoke of more serious matters and Jigano tilted his head to the side in acknowledgment, though his lips quirked in a wry smile.

"Delah does not approve of anything that comes from within the Barrier," he agreed with a soft chuckle, able to laugh now in spite of the pain and fear the the warchief had caused him with her wordless kidnapping of his friends. "And I won't disagree that her caution is probably wise. We are a people like any other: some are good, some are not, and most fall somewhere in the middle, just trying to get by from day-to-day and feed their families, with little energy left over to worry about those beyond the bounds of their homes and normal routines. Though I think most who are brave enough to step outside the safety of what they know will come here with good intent in their hearts, I don't blame her for assuming the worst and being quick to protect her people." He tilted his head at the young Fae, expression lightening from the solemn lines it had fallen into.

"Arduinna, though, was the one who led me to the Sidhe Village and helped me to recover those companions Delah had kidnapped when we first set foot in the Greatwood, knowing nothing of the Fae or the world beyond our barrier, and seeking to learn what had been lost." He hesitated, then raised a brow at his reluctant companion on the log. "I don't know what the Fae know of those who were trapped within the barrier, either," he admitted. "Or how much is true understanding, or ancient misconception. We have so much to learn..." And so few Fae willing to even speak to them, to begin the process. How could they even know what to offer in trade, when the Fae would not tell them what they liked or wanted? When those from the Hollowed Grounds didn't know what the Fae lacked - or had more than enough of?

He shook his head ruefully, reminding himself to be patient and move slowly, and he was rewarded with his companion's smile - small though it was, still a victory of diplomacy - and a tidbit of background that he could spin to gold, he hoped. He smiled back encouragingly, reaching up to tuck a pale tress behind his ear. "May I call you Weaver, then? Your baskets must be in great demand for catching the sun this time of year!"

Never have I touched a bird before, though I imagine this is what contact with a creature such as that should feel like. Isuma’s beak is as cold and unyielding to touch as the tusk of an old male Elephant Beetle, yet she handles my warm, sensitive fingertips with staggering gentleness. The feeling of her feathered skull beneath my palm too, is incredible as she asks silently, persistently for affection, and those tapering nail tips of mine bury willingly beneath the fur at her presented ears. This neck moves to swivel as Jigano speaks in turn and my narrow shoulders oblige, turning a little to comfortably accommodate the realignment. My pale eyes touch upon the sweet, young Gryphon first, tenderness softening the lines of hesitation beside my eyes, before sliding beyond her to find the sharp, chiselled outline of the human. He isn’t nearly as ignorant as I’d initially assumed, and the level of understanding he demonstrates for the plight of my kin, feels refreshing. A tiny seed of trust, maybe, has been planted within me; I’m aware of its presence and for now let it linger. Arduinna’s, is a name I know of through rumour alone; her reputation, appearance and clandestine nature. The Wildwood folk, of which I am one, whisper sometimes of her as the wild Fae, an enigma, though mention of her movement by Jigano, against Delah’s defences brings me to flinch: why would she encourage, nay, assist, the Outlanders invasion? My thoughts consider the new facts behind an unchanged expression. These are confusing times… My disheartenment is swept aside for now. “You may,” I answer Jigano’s question, with much reserve still blaring in my mind. I try to convince myself further that this exchange between he and I, has been an innocent one and the corners of my mouth further lift, responding to the compliment just given. A steady silence befalls thereafter, for I’m not immediately sure what else would be appropriate to say - in the back of my mind lingers always the reality that I need to travel home. Thinking of the snowy-coated fox, now warm in their den, my gaze drifts hither to the Gryphon which had followed and I utter: “Wildwood’s night life can be unfriendly. Please be safe.” My hand returns from  its therapeutic caress and presses (with the other), to shove me forward off my perch. Just below my skin looms the hope that we will meet again one day, but all I offer to the curious not-Fae before I retire, is a thoughtful nod; fingers draw the hood again forward of my forehead and shade engulfs my young face. Before I turn to leave, my free hand (the one not clasped once more around my stick), swoops slowly towards Isuma, as though to offer her a friendly, parting stroke.

Isuma chortled as Hazel's gentle fingers found the itchy spots behind her ears, and the gryphlet pressed her small head up into the attention with the unabashed affection of the very young and very trusting. She was not a creature who had known much hardship in her life, and people - whether they had wings or not - were generally dispensers of pets and scratches in her experience. She pressed closer to the Fae's side as she encouraged the attention, utterly shameless and softening her companion's expression with her joy. He noted how gentle Hazel's touch was, though if he'd had any doubts he would never have let Isuma go so near the petite girl.

He had hoped his words might have given her food for thought, but her expression remained unchanging as she watched him and he was left wondering if he had said too little? Or too much? Perhaps the wrong thing entirely... It was possible that she didn't believe him about Arduinna, although that, at least, he hoped she could ask around the Village of those who had seen them arrive that day, early in Longheat to corroborate that he was telling the truth. Delah had been displeased about Arduinna's airy command of safe passage and hospitality for that day, after all, and had hidden it but thinly.

Her acceptance of the name he proposed was an olive branch, though, and he relaxed into a smile as some of the tension left his shoulders. Her smile was a welcome sight, a gift that soothed the anxieties brought on by her silence, and he hoped that meant he had not completely alienated her.

The warning and dismissal came as one, abrupt but well-meant, he thought, and he arched a brow as she began to rise. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely as he glanced up to realize how the darkening shadows were not merely a trick of Ludo's Woods. "I didn't mean to keep you so long. I don't know the dangers here, or how they differ from those within the Barrier..." he shook his head, knowing that was no excuse, and rose fluidly to his feet as he began to conscientiously brush the loam and dirt from his clothes as Isuma bumped her head into the parting caress with a happy reep! "Delah would be even more angry if I showed up at the Village again," he admitted wryly. "Or I would offer to give you a ride home to make up for this."

Jigano’s apology catches me off guard and I hesitate to leave, wavering once more on the precipice of indecision. Why do I care so? The words which follow it, too, touch into my conscience, like a guilt edged knife. I relent, sighing softly, and turn back with a lengthening smile reapplied; still, the cloak’s hood, like an awning overhead, probably serves to shield it from view. Out in this wilderness, morning, noon or night, ignorance stands out like a beacon and the forest is wily. Its predators are worse. “The Cat Sith prowls Ludo’s Woods. I’ve not seen it myself, but many others I know claim they have. The creature preys upon souls waiting for Ludo to guide them to the afterlife. I don’t know whether it feeds on warm flesh also.” My fickle expression changes, smile fading beneath a fog of concern as I look upwards at the risen giant before me. This time I hold no fear in Jigano’s impressive, intimidating presence; we have come a long way in that short span of time. For a second more I linger, silently pursuing an idea that defies my better judgement. “Perhaps…” my  brazen tongue begins tentatively, eyes watching the striking blue of his own all the while. The notion of the Outlander returning to Sidhe Village seems altogether absurd, but a flicker of hope stirs in my belly; it encourages out the lagging tail of the sentence. “…perhaps our paths might cross in the village one day.” It seemed unlikely that this encounter would repeat, here, anyway.

Weaver's features were hidden enough that Jigano caught only the faintest quirk of her lips beneath the hood, but the smile warmed him, as did her concern as she revealed the reason for her desire to hurry. The bard drew in a deep breath, expression turning somber as he took her warning to heart, frowning slightly as he looked around the eerie grove. "I had never heard of such a beast within the barrier," he admitted. "Except, perhaps, at Long Night... and those monsters do, indeed, rend flesh and steal lives." He bowed deeply. "Thank you for the warning, Weaver. I shall pass it along in the hopes that others will heed it as well." So many new dangers to learn about, and so many lessons that could prove deadly in the learning. He watched the petite Fae girl with concern, but in the end he feared his continued presence might cause her more harm than good in the long run.

At least with Delah.

He had expected a final goodbye, her green eyes mostly hidden within the shadows of her hood, but the light reflected off them as she spoke kinder words instead, more optimistic than he had any right to, and his sharp-featured face broke out into a warm smile as Isuma chortled happily and leapt to his shoulder to begin nibbling his hair. "I would like that very much. Especially if I could be there as a guest and not an interloper some day," he admitted, voice wry but hopeful. "I would very much love to see the Observatory again, and learn the names of the stars from your scholars." What constellations did they draw in the sky, or did they have any at all? What stars did they use to navigate? To wish on? To tell stories of? What planets danced their slow and stately waltzes across the heavens, and when did the far-traveling showers of fire light the nights? A thousand and one questions, a thousand and one new things to learn...

But not while risking Weaver any further. "Safe travels, and may Safrin light your path," he said in parting, biting back the offer to escort her to the edge of the grove, at least. He might have meant it as a kindness, but she had her pride and her secrets, and it was not his desire to force his presence on her or slow her steps with uncertainty when she needed to travel swiftly home. And he had learned that the place was called Ludo's Woods? That seemed fitting, and explained why even in the unsettling strangeness of it he felt a flicker of familiarity. "I'll come back tomorrow to deliver my offerings to Ludo when the sun is higher. Now that I know the risk I'll be more careful about my timing."

Sterile is the Fae’s existence in Caido’s world and I wonder in silent reflection sometimes, if this is how my kin have been able to survive each wrath dealt through the centuries: bloodshed, time, the cataclysm… There are no written histories, neither drawn nor spoken, to suggest that any external blood has ever infiltrated the our lines, and The Greatwood guards our sacred society well. For this I am grateful. It brings me comfort, given the idea that I have raised, to hear him speak of his time in our capital and I can only assume that (given is tangible presence before me now), Delah’s soldiers allowed some right of passage. My mind is curious, perhaps beyond its entitlement and I query too, the Wild Fae’s part in it all. Nevertheless, I am smiling still, glad that Jigano appreciates my honest sentiment. “Farewell Jigano, Isuma,” this voice sings softly from the heart. My conscience is comforted by his final words, like perhaps the blanket of knowledge I’ve bestowed will keep him a little warmer and a little safer if his preference is within our territory. It is not my intention to see any folk destroyed at the hand of ignorance, though I will always be mindful of my kin’s values. The Undercroft might have further information about our relations with other Naturals, too, and the barrier-people alike - a project I would be more than willing to delve into after today. Maybe when my family carry our baskets to market next month, I will have something more than bartering and wandering to fill in my hours. So I turn at last from this unexpected new acquaintance, and slowly set off home through growing shadows. It never once crosses my mind that he might be inclined to follow; such is the gullible nature of a soul so untouched by the curses of the world. -exit-