Heathen ways

The Woodlands hid their share of rolling hills and small ravines amidst their masking leaves and branches, places were rivers had once run, cutting through the earth and stone over years beyond counting until the creases worn in Caido's surface created a few precipitous drops to the waters below. Most of the rivers had been reduced to streams, shallow shadows of their former glory, and their ancient banks now rose a few dozen feet above their current levels.

One such ravine was a favored gathering place of an unkindness of ravens, who often came to see if anything interesting had pitched over the edge of the sharp dropoff to dash its delicious brains out on the stones of the shore below. Today was not such a lucky day, but the water made for convenient place to hunt small animals who might wander by for a drink, oblivious to the danger in the trees high, high above. Among their number perched an albino bird, resplendent in white, and several individuals of less glossy plumage, with feathers more grey than black from age or disease.

When some of the younger birds began alarm calling - with some hope - as a larger creature began to approach, one of the dark greyish ravens huffed and hopped to a branch of his tree that overhung the ravine to peer down along the stream curiously, wondering who had come all the way out here - and why.

Papillion was not in the habit of being still or calm, even in unusual circumstances she did not know how to simply stay in one place. When walking in and out of the Spire several times had not put her back into the alleyway, she was happy enough to pick up life where she had left off - it wasn't all that different, anyway.

Food, while not plentiful, could be found. That said, it was a matter of catching it. Where she had managed to gather things that looked and (thankfully) tasted familiar, she wanted meat. Pounds of blood and flesh could be cured and stored, and though Papillion did not know know how truly bad the winters here might get, she wasn't exactly in the habit of going hungry, either.

She'd come to the ravine hunting rocks that would be suitable for a spearhead, still refusing to enter the ruins. Though her clothing had certainly suffered, acquiring new stains and tears, she'd managed and, despite it all, still glittered, throwing shards of red and yellow light into the leaf litter and bare branches as she approached the head of the cliff, scuffing the rocks with reinforced toes. "Oh hello hello to you too, yes, good morning." Pap cheerfully chatted with the birds overhead, scooping up a rock and running her thumb along the edge as she craned her neck to look up at the boughs, spotting the vivid white bird among them. "Oh hi, you guys have an awful pretty friend there! Caw caw, good morning pretty birds."

Not just any creature, but a human was coming to the hidden ravine, and not just any human, but a familiar one! Jigano chortled to himself, pleased to see the spry, fiery woman alive and well as she meandered down the streambed. What she was doing was a question he might have trouble asking at the moment, but that didn't mean he couldn't find out just from being patient. Curiosity was ever a vice of his, and though patience wasn't always one of his stronger virtues, he had just settled himself in to wait and watch when she looked up and complimented him in her cheerful, friendly way.

She couldn't know that it was him, or that he was anything other than a normal raven... could she? He fluffed up his feathers and hopped closer to the end of the branch, clutching it tightly with his toes as it bent and swayed beneath his weight as he peered down at her with curiosity and amusement. "Caw. Caw." he said obediently. "Morning." That was definitely not a normal bird noise, but ravens were excellent mimics, and he felt his wicked sense of humor bubble and stir. "Pretty friend!" he called back after a moment of working his avian tongue around the sounds. He owed her for the grappling lesson, so perhaps he could find out what she was looking for and help her in return today!

"Oh!" Pap clapped a hand over her face, nearly clubbing herself in the mouth with the rock she'd picked up in the process. She muffled her yelp of delight behind work-calloused palms, trying very hard not to be upsetting to a creature she figured might be a bit... well... flighty. Giggling, she lowered her hands, gazing at the albino raven in open admiration. "Oh, you're so clever, aren't you?"

Clutching the rock to her chest, she oogled the bird, flapping a dismissive hand at the spot on mimicry, still very certain this was an actual bird, albeit rare and neat and certainly unlike anything she had seen before. "Oh, please, you flatter. You're so friendly, too! What a charming thing you are!" She pocketed the rock for now, slipping off a thin gold chain bracelet with a coin-like pendant roughly an inch wide. She turned it this way and that, shifting as she found a ray of sunlight to make it glitter so nicely, and extended up to the bird on an open palm. "Come now, wouldn't you like to make your friends jealous? You'll have the nicest nest."

Her reaction was everything he could have hoped for... well, aside from nearly hitting herself with the rock she was holding. Jigano couldn't snort as a bird, but he chuckled to himself on the inside as her delight turned out to be infectious. It was so rare to see someone so genuinely happy in the dark day's of Zariah's rule that for a moment he let himself forget his stress and be carried along by Papillion's genuine cheerfulness.

Clever? Oh, if only she knew! But that was his fault, not hers, and he tried again with two of her own words. Flattery? Perhaps, but sincere enough. And he was rather charming when he put his mind to it, wasn't he? The white raven dipped his heavy beak to preen himself a bit at the compliments, knowing he'd have to reveal himself eventually, and perhaps sooner rather than later, but for the moment this wasn't such a bad way to renew their acquaintance with each other.

The rock vanished, but a shiny pendant took its place, and Jigano laughed inwardly again at the ploy. It was a good one, he had to admit - and so did a pair of the other ravens in the flock, two young birds dropping off their branches to land near to Papillion, eyes on the glittering prize. For his part, the white raven peered over the edge of the ravine at the woman down below, calling out in a bright sing-song: "Pretty pretty Papillion!"

What a lovely distraction from her day! The raven was certainly better conversation than the gourds she'd been kicking out of her way since arriving it felt like and certainly a lot more interested in her than the natives for the most part - the raven even knew her name, the avian tongue managing to form the syllables in a recognizable way. "Hey!" Her eyes went wide as her name was spoken. "Hey do I know you, pretty bird?" She all but ignored the mundane birds approaching her, still offering out the pendant to the white raven though her hand had closed about the pendant.

She had written her name - could birds not only learn to speak but read as well? She had never dealt closely with animals and wouldn't be entirely surprised given the hearsay that she'd gathered on how clever and strange the creatures could be. She thought a bit more about it before realizing that she had in fact introduced herself at some point, going so far as to even invite the stranger to a friendly spar. Maybe the raven knew Mister Silversmith! She didn't miss a beat, mouthing the name beneath her breath as she put the bracelet on again and pulled instead a silver bangle, delicate and thing but somehow untouched by her rough and tumble ways. "Do you know Mister Silversmith? He's awful lucky knowing such a smart bird - I don't think I've ever seen a white raven before."

She certainly did know him! And her reaction was definitely appreciated as he chortled aloud and bobbed his head. He suspected she'd take it as a nod, and she wouldn't be wrong, but surely she had to realize by now that he wasn't an ordinary raven, like the ones watching her pendant swing with avidly bright black eyes?

The question that followed was both so close and so far that he almost fell of his branch from trying not to laugh out loud. He gave up after a moment, fluttering down to the ground at the edge of the cliff so he could still peer down at her, though the angle wasn't nearly so good now. "Smith!" he managed to get out, but he was still chortling and it was hard to speak through the wheezing rattle of the sound. Ah, good old Silversmith! I was daft to use the name, but it's worth it! he crowed, in his mirth slipping over into speaking through the Attuned mental link. The silver bangle is a nice touch, though! Silver for silver... ha! Properly poetic touch, that! He approved of it, though he liked to think he wasn't so easily bribed, even in his raven shape. A man had to have standards, after all!

There was no shame in being an idiot - at least not judging by Papillion's reaction, watching the raven giggle and wheeze, not so much batting an eye as a familiar voice entered her thoughts, the grin unbroken on her face.

She did not respond immediately, however, staring at the bird with a strange fixation, head cocking first one way then the next. Wetting her lips she finally called out. "Mister Silversmith, you know, I've never flown. That's a trick you've got there, you wouldn't mind showin' me, would ya?" It had never occurred to her that she could simply be something other than herself - the practical applications of such a skill were, well, limitless! "Are you you going to come down here or will I have to go up there? You just say, Mister Silversmith!" She hoped she sounded eager and dedicated enough to become a student in the Sage's heathen ways.

It wasn't until Papillion stopped to stare at him that he realized his thoughts had slipped out unbidden into the Attuned link - and that she had heard them. He froze, his chortle whistling off in surprise as raven and woman stared at each other across the distance of the small cliff between them, and he wasn't sure who was more shocked.

Ah. It was probably him, then, he decided when she spoke up again with his assumed name on her lips and a question that would have sent him off into another fit of laughter if it hadn't been so pertinent. Because if Papillion was Attuned, that meant she very well could learn to fly... maybe. If the shape her soul had found upon passing through the portal was a winged one.

I don't know if you'll be able to fly, miss Papillion, but I think you've got the potential for it, he called back honestly, bemused as he hopped from one foot to the other thoughtfully. Starting from the edge of a cliff is a bad place to learn you can't fly, though, so perhaps the first question is figuring out how you'll get up to me from the bottom of one. Try to feel your limbs flowing into a new shape to help you up the rocks. Think about what you need and then see if your body can adjust to help you with it. The transformations were often accompanied by need the first time, though not always. He peered avidly down, watching and wondering just what sort of beastie the young woman who was so fond of grappling fisticuffs might be beneath that human skin.

Pap's brow furrowed as she peered at the raven, quite liking this mind-talk stuff but finding her thoughts to be still and silent. She wasn't sure how to project like could, but figured that all things might come in due time - there was no reason she should expect him to share all of his secrets all in one sitting. She quite like him to keep some, anyway. It made him exceptionally interesting, as she now could not quite know what to expect.

When directed too climb the cliff, the confused grin broke into a peal of laughter. She didn't need new legs to climb! But she tried anyway, thinking back to her childhood where she'd sat in the foothills and watched the goats scale the cliffs with ease, flitting from crag to crag. There was nothing she had aspired to more as a child than to climb with such grace, though her rather human dimensions and limitations had made her issue adjustments over time, accepting that her sense of balance would never be quite that good. "Yeah, yeah, up the cliff, Mister Silversmith. Be there in a jiff-"

It was like a story her mother might have told her thinking it would scare her rambunctious child into stillness. Discomfort accompanied the change from human to not, but once her shape had begun to melt like wax and reform, there was nothing that could easily turn her from the path of adaption. Like turning a spigot, innate ability rushed out and though it was not easy it did feel natural. In fact, she had almost missed it, bounding toward the base of the cliff, kicking off with booted feet and landing on cloven hooves, strange pale eyes scanning the rock face as she chose where next her feet would land, what crags would hold her.

Craning her neck up she opened her mouth the speak and out came only a throaty, animal bleating, coming up on her hind legs as she carefully continued to pick her way toward a likely slope. The color of sand, the color of home she stood out golden against the muddy crags, perhaps forgetting her task for a moment as she began to kick and buck and frolic up and down the cliff and side to side enjoying a new degree of mastery over near-vertical surfaces. Her horns were not quite as stunning as those of male but were somewhat overlarge, arching back in a mild swoop over long tapered ears. It wasn't flying, but it was something better, she knew.

A jiff, he thought, was maybe a bit optimistic, but then Papillion's human form fell away, becoming thick fur and cloven hooves and heavy horns and he chirred encouragement and approval, breaking into a raven's rattling laugh of delight as she bounded up the side of the cliff as if she had always had a goat's innate grace and surety of foot. Jigano launched himself from the edge of the cliff, white wings catching the air as he circled to get a better view of her antics. Yes, that's it exactly! he called, pride in his friend carrying in his mental tone.

You look like you've done this before! He saw no reason to be stingy when his praise when she had done something that would be considered magic on any other world. It had taken a bright mind to frame the desire, and innate courage to will herself to see it through. She trusted herself and her instincts, which was a rare gift among humans, and now it paid off in her mountain goat sense of balance and fearlessness. How does it feel?