it is rare that creatures within the quelled forest bond with outsiders; it demands faith. it demands patience. it demands to leap & expect that a landing is possible, one without broken bones. dhufeainnewedd is not part of those who befriend. she is a threat, a knife, something sharp & lethal that watches you, awaits for your mistake, and then implements your downfall with swift efficiency.
seeing xinyek befriend a boy had been strange, for the owl was wise. too wise to mingle with a stranger. finding herself to like the stranger had been even more bizarre. that was not in dhufeainnewedd's habit. but with time she had learned to tune out the warning signs-- one does not protect the quelled by allowing idiots to walk through its forest unaccompanied. so she would be there. she would stand and walk and find herself convinced the next time he would come, it would be with fire & death. she would still lead him to safety. she would still listen to his tales.
it is very strange, to find humanity in yourself. to find that, in some small way, you still care about making friends. yes. even after all this time.
"another story." her voice is calm, while a bit demanding. the tone of it, though, is terribly rough-- as if rarely spoken outloud. like an old instrument found in the back of the yard, a bit rustyā¦ still making music, though sorrowful: no longer suitable for art, and yet proof that, once upon a time, it was promised to make chef-d'oeuvres. "a happy one." &. @heliador
ā don't have many of those in my arsenal. ā he admitted, begrudgingly so. he'd scoured zrico's library enough times to find that it was more fact than fantasy, housing some of the last and recovered editions of knowledge. either they were stolen or he just hadn't been paying enough attention to seek them out. he used to delude himself in the joys of it when he was younger, but once he saw clear, he couldn't willingly walk through the smoke again.
the forest is a living entity on its own, every shift in the wind, every move in the ground ā it was as if he stood atop a sleeping creature generous enough to allow the pitiful ones to make home in its embrace. it used to scare him, the tales his parents whispered of when they conducted their mission across the barren land, but he knew they'd only seen the fear it was raised to incite. the spirit before him did little to faze him at this point. he had xinyek to thank. he would always have xinyek to thank.
the noxir looked behind himself to brush aside any stray dirt before leaning back, arms folded behind his head as he looked up. ā there's a story of a woman who waited for her lover to return from each mission from the sea. when they'd first gotten betrothed, he warned her that loving him was a lit match. it would burn brightly, but then it would die out. ā he spotted a small winged creature sit atop his bent knee, and he spared a glance at the guardian. ā she was determined that they'd be a different kind of love. and then he got lost at sea. days turned into weeks, this was normal. and then it reached short of a few months and she begun to climb the highest mountain to search for him every day. ā
tongue clicked over the roof of his mouth. ā the gods pitied her. turned her to stone. ā
