From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
'DO YOU?' Ever wonders back immediately, his own thoughts on the matter seeming entirely irrelevant. If Mateo did, then they'd go. If it was left to Ever, the pair would never do much of anything, save for make rubbings of leaves and flowers and eat meticulously planned lunches.
While it doesn't occur to Mateo that they might be heading toward the Grounds, it likewise doesn't occur to Ever that they might not be heading towards anything at all, but instead running from something. His instincts should have been a trifle better than they were, but given how tightly bound the boy kept his emotions, it perhaps wasn't too surprising that whatever canine intuitions he had about the subject, were summarily ignored.
"OF COURSE I DO, THIS IS REALLY COOL!" Mateo yells back, effectively making their decision. Never mind that the tail end of what he's saying is shouted into abject silence with the luxere's departure, and the words really cool echo through a forest muted by the snow. "Oh. Oops." With a sheepish grin, the boy hops out from amongst the tree roots, starting to follow the prints left by the herd of deer.
He's also oblivious to the idea that the luxere might have been running away from something; Mateo knows little of the dangers of the Greatwood given that his fathers are both considered apex predators. And so he trundles along happily enough, unable to hear the distant crunch of snow from something in pursuit.
Unlike Mateo, the Hart-boy doesn't scream into the sudden silence, but speaks in a conversational tone. "Okay." Ever replies without a moment's hesitation despite this seeming like an absolutely terrible idea. As would become a trend in their lives, there was almost nowhere that Mateo would go that Ever wouldn't follow, no matter the stupidity or danger that was sure to follow.
Silence rings in Ever's ears, and had he paws just now, they'd have been flopping against his head to try and drown away the strange sense of nothing. So despite the fact that they're following a luxere herd and should probably keep quiet, Ever decides to fill the silence with the thoughts bouncing in his mind. "How many luxere do you think it takes to make a herd?" The boy wonders, genuinely interested. "Three isn't a herd, and I don't think four is. But ten probably is. But what about 6? or 8?" Stepping in Mateo's tracks with his arms stretched out from his sides to aid with balance, Ever frowns at the back of his friend's head.
Mateo, of course, isn't worried about the silence - because to him there isn't really any, not with his boots cromching in the snow and the sound of drip, driping from branches and the trill of some cold-loving bird in the distance.
"Hm...? Well they say two's company and three's a crowd. I don't know about four or five, though. Is a crowd a herd?" He glances over his shoulder at Everest, aiming to give him a curious look and discuss the matter further, except now he can see the something that's been chasing the luxere.
The wolf pack might also be considered a herd, if the consensus is that three counts, because there are certainly three wolves prowling hungrily forward. Mateo gulps audibly, misses his next step, and falls on his face in the roots.
"I thought two was a couple, and three was a few?" Ever replies, his frown of confusion seeming to bow his words down into the shape of his lips. "I mean, I suppose I would say that a crowd is a herd. But I don't think three is a herd, even if it is a crowd." Which, by logical transitivity proofs that Ever has no way of articulating but intuitively knows, means that three can't actually be a crowd then.
Unable to parse the subtle changes in his friend's face for what they are, Ever simply drops to his knees with an oh! and reaches out to help Mateo to his feet. "You aren't normally so clumsy." He points out kindly as his hands try and wipe the snow away from Mateo's knees and jacket.
Ordinarily, Mateo would have happily engaged in the philosophy and semantics of crowds and couples and trios, but even as his friend pulls him to his feet, the boy's saucer eyes are still pinned somewhere over Ever's shoulder. "Look--" he manages, gripping his friend's arm and dragging him back a few more feet, but the wolves are already taking advantage of his misstep.
"Ever, watch out!" Fumbling as if he can somehow protect them both from whatever might happen next, Mateo throws up a hand defensively. And it's intuitive, the way he reaches inward to a part of him that's been sleeping until now. The way every fibre of him calls out help! to anything around that might listen.
And that is how Mateo Taliesin channels for the first time.
Mateo tries to channel a spirit to help with the wolves!
Laughter surrounds the children, as does the scent of fresh meat, followed by the scampering of little feet.
"Here, here!" A voice cries in bright childish tones, as three large pieces of meat suddenly appear in the air, waggling enticingly toward the wolves. "Om nom nom! Come on pups!" The spirit cries, and if one of the slabs of meat collides with a wolf who is still eyeing Mateo, so be it.
The meat trundles through the air with the wolf pack following and snapping, leaving the two boys alone long enough to scamper away.
What Mateo expects to happen (and really, what the heck could he expect) is nothing compared to what actually does take place. His jaw drops as actual slabs of meat dance and entice the hungry wolves away them, and he's even craning to try and see what direction they're going in.
"What the..." Shaking his head and coming back to himself, he seizes Ever's hand and tugs him along in the direction they were running. Of course, the luxere are long gone now, and he is barely even thinking of the tracks they left behind.
"That was... what was that?" he hisses, as if the wolves might change their mind. "Should we climb a tree or something? Can wolves climb trees...?" Suddenly he just sort of wants to go home.
Ever feels his shift itching at his bones once the snarling of the wolves reaches his ears. Had Mateo not...done whatever he did, and had the spirit not appeared, the Hart boy would certainly have shifted and gotten himself mauled, or worse. Instead, it's the scent of raw meat that distracts his canine mind enough for the boy to get himself under control.
Mateo's fingers are cold and insistent in his, and despite his aversion to being touched (though Mateo usually is the exception to this), Ever trundles along more willingly than he ever has before. "I...they can scramble pretty high up a tree. And jump. I think we should just keep going. If we stay, they might just surround the tree until we're cold and fall asleep, and then.." Suddenly, Everest wanted to cry. Not because he was scared (though certainly he was that), but because this situation suddenly felt too big for him, and he wanted an adult, but it was just he and Mateo.
"Which is closer, your dad's houseboat, or your nona's cabin?"
Mateo doesn't necessarily want to cry, but that doesn't mean he won't. He feels shivery and cold all over which seems to have nothing to do with the cold, the boy keeping his hand clamped around Ever's as if he's not sure what will happen if he lets him go. "Oh-- oh, okay. Yeah, no. I don't want that, not while we're asleep." Or at all, given anything like a choice, and so Mateo continues to plod onward over roots and branches and between snowdrifts.
"The boat is back towards the river, so my nonna's cottage will be closer. If we just need it enough, she says it should pop up. And I think we need it right now." It's a quiet admission that slices through all of Mateo's bravado, and he hurries away through the trees in silence for a few moments, before glancing back at his friends. "I'm glad you were there," he admits. "I wouldn't have wanted to face wolves by myself I don't think."
"No, we definitely need it." Ever counters, sounding confident through his terror and exhaustion. It's for this reason that Mateo isn't just holding Ever's hand now, but that Ever is holding his in return. The snow crunches far too loudly beneath their boots and he's quite sure that the puffs of their breath are going to be as easy as breadcrumbs for the wolves to follow, but there's nothing more for them to do other than imagine Vai's cottage and hope the Woods care more about keeping than alive than feeding the wolves.
"Me? You're the one who made the meat appear. Or..made the thing appear that made the meat appear." Ever's clarification is bulky, but he's sure his friend will understand. "I wouldn't have wanted to face the wolves at all, or ever again." He mumbles. "But if I had to, I'm glad you were with me."
"Was I?" Mateo still sounds skeptical, but he isn't about to contradict Everest when they're still (as far as he is concerned) working on escaping a trio of wolves (not a herd, no thank you). "Well if I did, I only did it because I wanted to keep the both of us safe. I don't know if I'd have been able to do it by myself. Maybe if we stick together that'll be the last time we ever have to face wolves, because we've done it once." He nods wisely, before falling quiet to think very hard about Vai's cottage.
And naturally the Greatwood delivers, because within only a few minutes more a very familiar herb garden comes into view, along with a trail which leads up to a well-lit cottage. "Nonna Vai!" Mateo calls, caring not a jot whether his brother and sister are napping or whatnot, and tugging Ever forward into the witch's care and safety.
That is more than enough adventure for one day, as far as the boy is concerned.
