| Logs |
2008 October 27
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Bough Logs |
First Movement, First Duet
It has been a long afternoon -- at least it feels like afternoon with the level of light in the sky, but it could be midday in winter, too -- and the short time the group has to rest in the foresters' lodge is comfortable. The foresters -- they seem a touch shy, or at least seem to disappear and reappear rather randomly, going in and out of the lodge and promptly disappearing into the trees -- are helpful and give the group the run of the lodge.
Mikal quietly slips over to the scrolls and charts, studying them carefully. She's seen snow, but not like this before! Her homeland is warm and easy, and the occasional frost was unusual. She frowns -- she's going to have to learn quickly about this stuff, she thinks. She glances over at Raphael, murmuring, "Raph, you lived in the mountains, right? Do you know how to handle snow?"
Mikal smiles, watching the foresters. They're behaving the way she's used to -- that's oddly reassuring to her.
Raphael looks a touch wryly at Mikal. He certainly can deal with snow! He gently reminds her that he had been chased off the mountain by an odd winter-coated khidra.
Mikal nods, reassured, "All right -- so between the two of us we can still keep folks safe and fed and warm; good." She smiles, ruffling Raphael's ears affectionately, then goes back to memorizing the wildlife charts. Specifically she wants to quickly recognize the tracks and scat of first: any dangerous local predators, and second: food animals.
As she puzzles over the charts, one of the foresters seems to materialize behind her. "Finding everything all right?" the ljosalfar asks musially.
Mikal smiles a touch nervously over her shoulder -- and up, yeesh! What a tall people! -even if they are foresters. "Er... y-yes? I -- I want to b-b-be able to take g-good care of my, my pack here?"
Norris is sitting thoughtfully, and watching the interaction between the wolf and the girl...brother and sister. His expression seems almost wistful...though Mikal and Jareth are his friends, he's never had a sibling, and only one parent before she passed. While he's not exactly envious he is...well, he's not sure what that feeling is.
The ljosalfar -- with hair the color of bronze rather than gold and bright hazel eyes -- smiles quietly, nodding. "Of course. Anything I can help with?"
Thus encouraged, Mikal takes a deep breath and nods several times, "Yes please! I w-want to know what's dangerous here, and what's good to eat, and how to keep my pack warm and fed and safe and... and everything!"
The forester nods. "Well, that's a great deal of information you want! I can get you started at least. I'm Delling, by the way.
Mikal says, "M-m-mik-kal, s-sorry." She flushes slightly, embarrassed at having forgotten introductions, "a-and that's Norris over there and Raphael and Jareth and Tomas. Um..." she glances sideways at the tall man from beneath her bangs, "D-do you have, um, more of these picture charts? I can't read them b-but the pictures are n-nice and clear?"
Delling smiles and nods, waving to each in turn. He looks a little surprised the Mikal cannot read, but he nods, still smiling. "Certainly we do. Right in the classroom here. If I may ask, are you asking mainly about predators here on this side of the wall, or out in the Wyrd?"
Mikal says, "Umm... both, please?" She smiles up at the forester, adding, "If it's like our forests at home, Raph and I will want to spend most of our time there, after all."
Delling nods, bringing Mikal into one of the open-air classrooms where there's a variety of almost realistic pictures on various boards and panels. "Well, you've very little to worry about with the forests on this side of the wall. There aren't any large predators. We try to control the population of fey-stags, which are really the largest beasts we have here. The largest predators here tend to be the small arctic foxes." He looks to Raphael curiously. "Your friend's current shape should give him a clear advantage over any predator you might run into on this side of the wall.
Delling says, "Out in the Wyrd, though, that's another story, I'm afraid."
Mikal is suddenly interested, "What's a fey-stag?" She wonders if she can think at it like she does with Raphael... and if so, might one of them be willing to travel with her and Raph, and let her ride if she took care of it? Being swifter would be an excellent way to better care for her pack!
Delling indicates a chart nearby, with a variety of animals on it. The fey-stag looks to look much like a large-antlered deer that she knows from her dreamscape... except it is powerfully built and easily the size of a horse. Despite that it is still sleek and graceful-looking. "Fey-stag," Delling provides helpfully. "They're some of the shyest and wiliest creatures out in the Wyrd. Tracking them is a test of any decent forester." He pauses, considering. "But even they're not the shyest or most elusive thing to track out there...."
Mikal brightens -- a challenge to test herself against, out here! She nods eagerly, listening carefully. [Raphael! Are you hearing this? We should try finding a fey-stag -- then maybe I could finally keep up with you, if we can befriend it!]
Raphael is aleady in the classroom, though the way he is paying attention -- perched on one of the small tables and looking attentively at the chart -- is less like one who is learning and more like one who is contemplating a buffet picture-menu.
Mikal giggles at Raphael's expression, climbing up on the table next to him and cuddling up next to him, with one arm over his back. The two of them have a very similar expression, in a way: that attentive learning look. "Go on, please, Sir Delling?"
Delling laughs softly. "Just 'Delling,' Mikal. I'm not nobility, and I'm rather thankful for it! Well... there's something called Pellinor's Beast or the Questing Beast. It's supposed to be very shy, and very wiley. Tracking it is supposed to be the height of the forester's art. To be honest I've never heard of a forester who's tracked it for more than a day."
Mikal nods in fascination, still listening carefully. "All right, so what's good to eat here, and what, um... nature disasters might occur -- flooding, snow, thunderstorm, something else? And when we're done with here, what's out in the weird?" She doesn't yet quite grasp the slightly different pronunciation of that locale. She grins and waves to Norris, "Come hear too, Nor! Learning's always good!"
Delling goes into a brief overview of the forests inside the wall that are near the Winter Palace. The Winter Palace of course gets the occasional snowfall, the infrequent snowstorm, and the very rare blizzard, but more often it gets simple cold snaps. He shows her a few of the more edible plants, and more importantly what plants to completely avoid, like hellnettles and poisonrose.
Mikal nods gravely, carefully memorizing as much as she can. If they have dried examples of the plants, she asks to see them, and for Raph to get to sniff them -- carefully.
Delling goes on: "For the Wyrd... that's a whole different story. There's so much more out there. We have a leathern scroll-tube that we give to trainees who are going out there for the first time, which describes some of the more significant things out there to watch out for."
Mikal gives Delling a puzzled look, "Um... is the scroll tube magical or something?"
Delling takes a leather scroll-tube from a cabinet, and pulls the scroll from it. He unrolls it on the table in front of the two. The scroll is made of a heavy fabric vellum and instead of rows of words it is covered with pictures. "No, it's not. I suppose that they could have made some kind of magical scroll but that was just overcomplicating things. This will get you started and let you refresh your memory about things in the Wyrd." He looks over it. "I could point out the markings that say 'bad stuff, don't eat' or 'don't touch' but let me go over it with you, and I'll put red marks on the things you should avoid, and blue marks on the things that are edible or can be used beneficially."
Mikal brightens, "Pictures! Oh, that's fantastic!" She nods again, listening as she visually devours the scroll. She beams at the elf, murmuring shyly, "Thank you!"
Delling smiles warmly to Mikal. "You're welcome, Mikal. If I can ask, how long have you been a forester?"
Mikal says, "All my life, sir -- er, Delling." She turns a little pink at the slip, but adds, "As far back as I can remember, Da had me with him, and taught me everything he knew." She goes silent for a moment, her face troubled... was her father just made up? She shivers, pushing that thought firmly away. She has no guarantees the people here have any idea what they're talking about, after all, when it comes to her world. They could all just be crazy! She sighs faintly, a bit relieved at that thought."
Delling nods, smiling. "Good, I'm glad. Some people who come here dismiss everything they'd learned in their dreamscapes, forgetting that experience, any experience, is still a useful thing. You're very fortunate; you and your friends seem to have skillsets that'll help you all out in the Wyrd."
Mikal nods interestedly, running one hand lightly over the vellum scroll, "So... tell me more, please?"
Delling says, "I'll certainly try," and he launches into essentially the 'beginning forester's guide to the Wyrd.'
Mikal listens fascinatedly, nodding and occasionally quietly repeating bits she really wants to be sure she remembers, in a soft singsong to herself. The difference in her demeanor between now, and when she was hearing far, far too much frightening and confusing information from the aethyrs, is striking. She'd been blank-eyed, terrified, and bewildered then, and hadn't managed to absorb much of anything. Here, however, she's alert, happy, and interested -- and perhaps most importantly, what she's hearing makes sense to her.
Delling is perhaps being gentle; he doesn't go into the overly weird things that go on in the, erm, Wyrd, leaving that for another time. He has possibly worked with shell-shocked mortals before, and uses this to try to ground them with things they already know. After a couple of hours, he has gone over enough information that Mikal shouldn't have a problem performing in the Wyrd compared to the forest around her village.
Mikal beams a little tiredly at the forester, "Thank you, Delling! Raph 'n I really appreciate your, um..." She glances around, realizing how long it's been, "...time? Oh, dear..."
He smiles. "It does take a while, but practice is the best instructor. And you're very welcome, Mikal."
Mikal whispers nervously to Raphael, "Where is everyone, Raph?!" She's relieved when he lets her know that Norris is getting a bite to eat in the tavern next door, while Tomas and Jareth apparently vanished (as in: fell asleep/are dreaming/whatever that weirdness is) some time ago. Mikal thanks Delling again, then happily rolls up her new scroll, complete with notes and scroll case, and fastens it to her belt before she goes pattering into the next room to see how Norris is doing -- and to get a bite herself as well!
Mikal settles happily next to Norris, excitedly telling him about all the wonderful things she and Raphael have just learned!
Delling wanders into the tavern shortly after Mikal, noting how empty it is. "There aren't many foresters here during the light hours," he explains, sitting near her and Norris. "We try to do all we can when we have light. Even some dark-times we're all outside, sometimes.
Mikal nods to Delling, then curiously asks, "So, um... can't you all see at night? Oh! Also, can you tell us anything about the storm-thingie around the guard tower we're supposed to go into, please?" When she's happy and excited, her words tend to run together a little.
Delling smiles. "No, we can't see in the dark! Dokkalfar can, a little bit, but only because they usually live and work underground. Most foresters are ljosalfar.
Mikal blinks, "Really? How come?"
"Because we're more comfortable out here in the open and in the forest. Oh, there are some dokkalfar foresters, but most prefer to be around and work with stone and metals.""
Mikal says, "Oh, okay." She grins shyly, "Norris is going to want to talk to them some, I think, once we're done with our errand." A bit proudly she adds, "He's a very good blacksmith!""
Delling nods, beaming. "Good! I'm sure they'll love to meet him. Especially if he can work with iron and steel!"
Mikal glances sideways at Norris, who's busy eating, then grins at the elf, "I think so! He keeps my knives and hunting arrowheads in excellent shape, after all."
"That's very good, then. Most of the stronger metals they use are steel or have some amount of iron in them, making it dangerous for them to work. We here mostly use jasper arrowheads and bronze knives."
Mikal says, "Why? Is it... does cold iron really harm you all?"
Delling nods soberly. "I don't know how it came about, to be honest. Or why, for that matter. It's from before the Godswar, so nobody's really sure how it came about. But cold iron really can harm us. Holding it or touching it... it's so cold that it burns, if that makes sense."
Mikal nods blankly... then shakes her head, "No, I'm sorry... but that's all right. It's not good for you. I'll be careful with my iron, and Norris and I can warn the others too. Um, so... is everything here made sick by it? Or just the aelfar?"
"Just the aelfar, as far as I know, though I've heard it said that some aethyrs who are still fighting the battles of the Godswar use iron weapons against their foes, even if it's dangerous for themselves. I mean, iron weapons won't do more damage than bronze ones against fey-stags, for example.
Norris is abashed by Mikal's praise, and doesn't have much to say to that...he's actually been unusually quiet for him, but in retrospect, perhaps that's not so bad...he's encouraged a little by Mikal coming out of her shell to talk on matters that are familiar and bolstering to her. When talk turns to metals, however, he does seem far more overtly interested.
Mikal grins a touch mischievously as Norris perks up, and while he's distracted she swipes a bit of food off his plate!
Norris does speak up, then. "What're most weapons made of round here, then? Ah mean...ah know that iron's superior t'bronze, but seems that having too many iron weapons about aint good fer good relations...so is thar sommat better metal fer weapons than iron?"
Norris does notice Mikal stealing food off his plate, but genially pretends not to notice. He knows she loves being sneaky. He even stabs the plate in a place where he knows food is not, and looks befuddled as to where his food got to.
Mikal giggles cheerfully, her eyes sparkling as she grins at him over the bite of food.
Norris tries to hide a smile. A giggling Mikal is never a bad thing.
Mikal grins happily, then adds to Delling, "Go on?"
Delling answers, "Among the aelfar, mostly bronze. Sometimes silver but only for special purposes. Besides that, I know that the blacksmiths and whitesmiths sometimes use more exotic alchemical materials. The occasional forester will use petrified and treated ironwood, but that's about it."
"Regarding the storm... I'm afraid I'm not an expert in those sorts of things. But I get the impression that a nether-squall and similar things are the... the energies of the Nether leaking into the Dreamtime, like... like in a swampy bog, some ground looks solid but if you step on it, water seeps out of the ground and a moment later your foot is soaked.
"That's sort of what a nether-squall is like.
Norris blinks, as we suddenly come across a word he's never heard. "A...whitesmith? Sir? Whut's that?"
Mikal says, "Someone who works with white metals, I'd guess?"
Norris considers that. "What white metals?"
Mikal says, "Silver, Norris! Um... is bronze pale? I don't know for sure...?" She adds eagerly to Delling, "I want to know what the nether is, please?"
Delling nods. "They work with precious metals, usually for decorative work like jewelry or fittings. Working gold and silver isn't like working bronze, for example. But sometimes, when someone needs a silver sword, for example, they'd go to a whitesmith and a blacksmith both to get the work done."
In answer to Mikal's question, Delling purses his lips. "The Nether.. I'm not entirely sure what it is myself, to be honest. Neither are most people. We know the Architect needed to create it, for whatever reason. But there are places in the distant Wyrd that you can use to go from the Dreamtime to the Nether and back again. Some legends have it that the powers whom Elaldabaoth defeated in the Godswar were sent to the Nether. That's what they're called now: Nethersent. I imagine they're asleep there, or hibernating. To be honest I haven't spoken with anyone who's actually gone there.
Mikal looks puzzled as she nibbles on the piece of meat and bread she swiped. "But... oh, is this like hell for aethyrs or something? It's something icky?"
Norris was going to argue that silver isn't white...it's silver. But listening to Delling's explanation, he has to agree that working soft metals isn't the same as working ahrd metals...he's worked with pewter, after all, which is similar to silver.
"Well, I'm not sure if it's like hell for aethyrs, but 'icky' certainly seems to fit it. I've never heard details about it but it doesn't sound like someplace I want to stay in for very long."
Mikal nods thoughtfully, leaning comfortably against Norris the way she does with Raphael sometimes, "So... can you tell us why you can't go into the storm but we can?" Hopefully she adds, "Or can we get a nice meal for Raph, and a nibble for me too, please?"
Delling smiles and shakes his head. "I have absolutely no idea," he says cheerfully, as he starts to put together a plate of food for Raphael. The ljosalfar suddenly has the full attention of the raptor-wolf. "It's just 'one of those things,' I'm afraid."
Mikal grins cheerfully at Raphael, letting her hand run down his back in a light caress as he rises and trots swiftly over to stand next to Delling, staring intently. Mikal curiously asks, "Is it like the cold metals, then?"
Mikal adds puzzledly, "I'd never heard of that in any of the stories we'd tell around the campfire..."
"I think so. It's just something with the way we're put together. But remember the cold iron thing only affects aelfar and some other aethyrs. The nether-squall and things like it? All Aethyrs. You'd actually be safe from Elaldabaoth himself in a nether-squall."
Mikal blinks, murmuring a startled, "Huh!" She considers that for a bit, then timidly asks, "So are they all... do nethersqualls all rain orange? And... how can your folk go to the Nether, if it makes you ill?
"Well, the squalls make us ill. I'm not sure how we can go to the nether and be fine there. That's something you'd have to ask someone like Rowan. I think some sort of ... change has to happen to an aethyr to spend any time there, which is why the ones whom Elaldabaoth kicked there are different now.
"As for what they look like, I think the nethersquall all rain orange. Some might have different appearances, but the ones I've seen, they've all been nethersqualls and they've all had orange rain.
Norris is quiet as he ponders orange rain...and absently wonders if the sky is orage when it rains orange...since the sky is blue when it rains normal color. No wait, that's not right either...the sky is usually grey. Except that's not the sky that's clouds right? So maybe the sky *is* orange, and they'd never be able to tell because of clouds...
Mikal watches as Rapahel unsurprisingly wolfs down his food, and smiles her thanks when some food is handed to her. She also wolfs down her food -- as the old grannies would say, she definitely needs a guiding female hand to teach her some table manners! -mumbling through it, "So how close can you get to the storms, Delling? And where do the fey-stags hang out? And are the animals here sick from the nether too?"
Mikal says, "Er, the nether storms?"
Delling smiles as he sits back down. "Just the edge. The lore is, if you can feel the drops you're getting far too close. Any further in and it becomes painful, so we back out quickly at that. At some point the nethersquall just physically 'kicks' us out of it's area. Most animals somehow instinctively avoid nethersqualls. Mostly, the fey-stags are outside the wall, in the Wyrd.
Mikal's face falls, "Oh, fooie! Was hoping to maybe meet one here." She hastily chews up the rest of her food, then looks to see if Raphael is done -- the big raptor wolf is contentedly cleaning his paw-hands, lying next to his immaculately-clean-licked plate. She grins at that, then looks cheerfully at Norris, "So, Nor! Let's start going, shall we?"
As Mikal exits the forester's lodge, she can tell my scent that it's about to snow. Indeed, after a few moments, some small, white flakes drift down from the bright grey sky. Far from being a deadening event, the forest seems to, subtly, come a bit more alive at the slight snowfall, with the muted singing of far-off birds, and the distant yip of a a pair of foxes.
Mikal blinks, looking around and grinning cheerfully. She'd worried about snow, but this seems surprisingly lovely! Although... hm. She rubs her arms and wonders if she can get some warmer clothing from the fore- wait. She straightens at a sudden thought, her eyes lighing up. Maybe she can... can think or dream or whatever it is -- some warmer clothes?! She grins excitedly, bouncing happily in place, then takes a moment to think carefully. What does she need? Well... warmer boots, a heavier shirt and pants, a cloak? Hm... so, a fur-lined, hooded cloak; fur-lined boots and nice woolen socks; woolen pants and shirt (maybe a touch of embroidery? she thinks hopefully) and some nice underclothing too, to help keep warm -- oh! Mittens, definitely -- the kind she can use a bow with!
Mikal closes her eyes and concentrates for a few moments... then blinks, opening her eyes in delight and looking down at herself. "Ooh! It worked!" She bounces gleefully around, admiring the pretty clothes and laughing delightedly with Raphael as he pounces cheerfully about with her.
Mikal pauses, her eyes wide, "Oooooh -- how pretty!" Her light boots are now knee-high and laced up the front, with fur lining and embroidery across the toes and up the outer sides of the legs. Her woolen pants are warmly lined, with more pretty embroidery in a colorful nature pattern in a strip up the outside seam. Her padded, sleeveless leather jerkin is warm and thick and practical, reaching to mid-thigh and belted snugly about her waist, while her woolen shirt is the same design as her pants: warm, lined, and similarly embroidered, gathered at the wrists and the high collar. Her outer cloak is thick and fur-lined, with a hood she can pull close with the drawstring, while her fur-lined gauntlets reach to mid-forearm and are cleverly designed so she can pull off the outer mitts to bare her fingers and use her bow easily.
The overall color scheme is well suited to winterwear: mostly white with a few grays and blacks mottled in.
"That's a real fine new outfit yew gots there, Mikal." Norris drawls. It's unclear when he showed up, but he's there now, smiling contentedly at the forester, now much more furry, like her wolf companion.
Mikal beams in startled pleasure at Norris, "Isn't it pretty, Nor?! I asked for warmer clothing, but I certainly didn't expect anything this beautiful!"
Mikal skips happily through the snow and throws her arms about Norris in an impulsive hug! "Let's go look for fey-stags while we wait for the others to wake up, okay?"
Norris tilts his head. "Well, consider'n yew wus basically askin yerself, ah spose it's no wondering yew thought up th' nicest clothes y' could."
Mikal looks a bit embarrassed, "I -- I d-didn't mean to be vain, Norris -- really!"
Norris shakes his head. "Weren't mah thought, Mikal. It's just..." He tries to think of how to put his instinct into words. "Ahm bettin yew saw clothes like this on some traveller, annat. Or somethin like?"
Mikal says, "Oh." She thinks a bit, trying to remember... then nods slowly, "Some... some of the caravans, maybe?" Hastily she adds, "B-but I was -- I was practical, really! See?" She holds up the cloak, "Camouflage and everything!"
Norris smiles. "Ah spect the clothes yew thought up reflect yew in many ways, Mikal. All ahm sayin...wuz that if yew ever looked at sommat with any kind of d'sire, then per'aps it's be natural that those...thoughts be taken int' account when yew'r dreamin stuff up, hey?"
Norris says, "Aint nothin' wrong with it. Just th' way we is."
Mikal nods slowly, her expression a little troubled; then she looks up at Norris, "I... we're not taking stuff from folks, are we?"
Norris considers. "Well, ah doan rightly know, hmm? But seems t' me...that iffn' we could be making stuff what no one else got, then there aint no way that could be happenin. Still...from th' way folks's describing stuff to us, seems like we's just makin stuff outta th' raw dreamplace ore, hmm? Like happens in normal dreams, when we picture outselves with clothes or stuff or whatnot we don't have. Member one time ah dreamed of m'self with wings. Doan expect some poor bird goin around without them, hey?"
Mikal laughs softly at that! -then looks thoughtful again. After a moment she nods, shyly slipping her arms about Norris' waist for another quick hug, "Thanks, Nor." Then she bounces lightly back, her eyes sparkling, "So! Fey-stags, yes?!"
Norris looks doubtful. "Why're we hunting fey-stags again?" he queries dubiously.
Mikal grins delightedly, grabbing Norris' hand and dragging him along with her -- or trying, rather. If Norris set his feet, it's doubtful she'd be able to budge him! "Because, Nor! Because they sound beautiful and tracking them is a challenge and we've got time until the others wake up and I want to see -- to practice until they come back so I know I can keep you all warm and fed and comfortable and because maybe if I can talk to one like I can talk to Raph it'll come with us and maybe even let me ride and if so maybe I can persuade more of them to come too so we can all right so we can keep up with Raphael and mostly because it's fun?!" She has to cut off for breath then, the excited flow of words tumbling out all at once.
Norris stares dumbly at Mikal, not really setting his feet, but not getting half of what she's saying in the rush. She's dragged him at least a good 50 yards before he's parsed most of what she's said, and he looks a little relieved. "Oh...so you're jus' trackin' em, not huntin' em. Just sayin'...not verra neighberly t' be huntin folk like Raph just cuz they'r stags."
Mikal blinks in surprise at Norris, "You mean to eat?! Gracious no! You don't eat things you can talk to!" She grins, "Silly! Come on -- let's see if we can find any!" She's doing her best to draw him deeper into the woods, releasing his hand to scamper about occasionally, drawing on her training to try and pick the most nicely obscuring areas that a sneaky stag might like.
Norris watches Mikal scamper, and looks over at Raph, wondering how he deals with a girl with as much energy as she seems to have at times.
Norris get this look in his eyes...like a thought is at the edge of his brain, and he's not quite catching it. And then it's like a light goes on over his head...not much of one, just a low-burned candle with a fat wick, but it burns its merry heart out. "Uh, wait...mebbe you'd have better luck lookin' fer stags wi'out the man-mountain wi' ye?" he calls to her as she darts by.
Mikal grins at Norris, "Nonono -- it's more of a challenge this way, Norris! Don't you think?"
Norris looks at Raph. "That's wun way of puttin it." he drawls dubiously again.
Mikal giggles and disappears into the underbrush again, following her instincts.
That said, as he lumbers along, he puts his brainpower to the task of thinking how he could help find a stag. He's got the training for forest survival, but he's by no means a tracker. And while a fey stag might be a stag, they're not a normal stag.
Mikal studies the groud, not randomly, but in various areas, looking for signs of fey-stags. After about a half an hour, though, she finally spots a few tracks that look like they were made by a large deer. A very large deer.
Mikal brightens, and her demeanor changes immediately. She stops scampering and seems to slink almost effortlessly through the undergrowth -- sneakily enough that she or Raphael have to occasionally double back to make sure Norris knows where they are. The two hunters will, once the tracks start getting very fresh, make sure Norris is someplace safe before they double around to circle the stag and see if they can get closer.
Up ahead, through the bushes she's crawling through, the thinks for a moment that she can hear the crunching and munching of a large ungulate chewing contentedly upon a shrub. Then, abruptly, the sound stops, and all she can hear is the breathing of a cautious, wary, large stag. It certainly seems to have noticed her and/or Raphael.
Mikal goes still, watching for the stag and thinking slow, calm, relaxed thoughts.
Every so ofteh she thinks she hears a cautious crunch as the stag chews, waiting. Then, bit by bit, she hears the crunching of large hoofed feet upon the snow-flecked ground. A scent of deer musk fills her nose.
Mikal smiles, remaining still and quiet, but still watching eagerly.
Slowly, the stag moves closer. It appears to be curious more than frightened at this point, thanks mostly to Mikal thinking calming, relaxing thoughts. The brush in front of MIkal rustles slightly... and then a simply massive deer hoof steps lightly on the ground in front of her. A moment later she feels the breath of the fey-stag on her hair, and it's lips curiously noodling about her hair, almost but not quite like the fey-stag is wondering if this would be good eating.
Mikal grins, sitting back enough so she can look directly up at the huge and foreshortened nose of the fey-stag, with his head beyond, and the majestic rack of antlers spreading overhead. She whispers softly, "Hello, beautiful man," as she reaches up to gently touch the broad nose, "will you be our friend?"
The fey-stag, now that Mikal can look up at it, is indeed amazingly huge for a deer. it has a shaggy mane that is starting to attract melted snow, and has an impressive rack that looks baroque, not at all like the racks of deer she's seen before. It gives a soft snort, shaking out it's mane a bit, before sniffing Mikal's hand. At the very least, he hasn't scrambled off.
Raphael for his part is staying clear away, and the impression that Mikal is getting is that Raph is one part stunned at the amount of venison on this fellow... and ten parts giving off distinct, "I am so no messing with that one!" thoughts. Mikal gets the impression that Raphael is thinking that, if all the deer are like this one, it's going to be dramatically hard for him to find venison.
Mikal giggles at Raphael, thinking, [Greedy! We'll make sure you stay fed, silly.] She reaches out to take a gentle handful of mane to steady herself as she straightens, then rubs along the base of one of the antlers. She croons happily, "So, want to come meet my friends, handsome?"
Mikal giggles as the stag tilts his head and grunts blissfully at the rubbing she's giving him, pushing hard enough against her that she gets knocked back a step. She grabs his mane, laughing delightedly, and hugs him about the neck, "You're beautiful, you know that? Want to come meet my friends?" As she turns to lead the stag towards where Norris is, she brightens suddenly, "Oh! I almost forgot -- can I ride?!" Her voice is hopeful, and she runs her mittened hands along his back, watching his face to see how the fey-stag feels about it. Curiously she adds, "So... if you're fey, why don't you talk back to me, please?"
The stag seems a little surprised at the communication, but it does seem to instinctively understand what it is, though he doesn't respond using 'language.' He does express curiosity at being introduced to Mikal's friends, and also understands the concept of 'riding,' as he crouches down a little bit on his haunches.
Mikal almost glows with happiness, "Thank you!" as she lightly vaults up and onto the stag's back. She laughs delightedly, grabbing a double handful of the shaggy mane, and nudges gently with her heels, "That way, please? Up the hillside is where Norris is waiting to meet you -- and I'll introduce you to Raphael there too, okay?"
The fey-stag trudges up the hill, but as soon as he catches scent of Raphael in that direction, he becomes a touch skitish, chuffing and taking a few uncertain steps to the side.
Mikal leans forward, stroking the stag's neck reassuringly, "It's all right, handsome. Raphael won't hurt you -- he's more leery of you than you are of him right now!"
The fey-stag chuffs again, gazed fixed on Raphael. The stag has never seen a raptor-wolf before but he's pretty sure it's some kind of predator, and is really wanting Mikal's reassurance that Raph is not going to call some friends over for dinner....
Mikal makes soft shushing sounds to the stag, adding reassuringly, "Nono, handsome, he's here with me -- you've nothing to worry about, believe me! C'mon, let's go on up to see Norris, okay?" She looks ahead, wondering if Norris can see them yet -- she's sure Norris will be as amazed and delighted at the enormous and majestic stag as she is!
Norris is sitting on a rock, seemingly deep in thought. When he hears the brush rustle, he speaks without lookin up. "Had any luck? Ah thought...if yew coul' make new clothes fer yourself, mebbe ah could make mahself less fearsome, an more attractive t' stag by makin mahself smell lak a salt lick. Only problem is ahm havin a hard time rememberin what a salt lick smells lak.." Then he turns his head, and blinks at Mikal with her new stag. "Well, day-um."
Mikal giggles happily at Norris' expression, waving, "Hi, Norris! Isn't he beautiful?!" She giggles again at his words, "You're funny! I like the way you smell already, though."
Norris shakes his head. "Well, ahm sure ah smell fine t' other people, but a stag prolly doan care none fer th' smell of human." he explains, looking the majestic beastie up and down. "yew sure do have a way with the beastfolk." he murmurs.
Norris hmms. "Then again, maybe tis just as well. Might be a a bit distractin having this fella keep tryin t' lick me."
Mikal beams, "Just the special ones, I think! The little ones don't really listen to me, and the monsters..." she shakes her head, "Well, them I want to go away, but they don't always, either." She leans to stroke the stag's neck again, then bursts out laughing at Norris' comment!
Norris blushes. "Well, it's troo, ain't it."
Mikal manages to get the giggles under control before she leans to loop an arm about Norris' neck, "You're nice, Nor -- thank you." She giggles again, adding, "It's so neat to be tall like this! I've never been able to look you in the eyes before, you know?" She leans to hug the stag about the neck again, crooning happily to him, "Would you like to stay with us for a while, handsome? We'd take good care of you, promise!"
Norris looks doubtful. "Yew think it's aright, Mikal? E's still a wild beastie, might not feel comefertable round so many folk...an ah hope yew aint stealin' 'im away from a missus what's expectin' him t' bring back food fer th' little ones..."
Mikal shakes her head, "Stags don't pair bond, Nor! And they don't bring food back to young -- that's a predator and bird thing."
Mikal grins, adding, "He's a great excuse for me and Raph to stay in the forest more, too! It'll be great practice for us in the weird place!"
THe stag has calmed down a little once Raphael proved to not be looking at him overly hungrily. He seems more content to have a loot around and see what's going on for a bit, not having anything better to do at the moment.
Norris huhs. "take yer word fer that. Doan know as much about animals as yew and Jareth..."
Mikal grins happily at Norris, "It's all right! But we do need to get you a hat, I think. If it gets colder at night, you'll be uncomfortable, Nor. C'mon! Let's go." She pats the stag, leaning in the direction she'd like the stag to go, "This way, please? We'll get you some nice oats or something at the tavern, okay, handsome?"
The stag chuffs again, and pads along at a sedate pace towards the forester's lodge. He's a little nervous, since he knows that sometimes the foresters do hunt stags, but so far the raptor-wolf has been behaving so he is content.
Mikal chatters happily to Norris walking along beside her -- about how wonderful the stag is, about the various plants and birds they're seeing, about what the plants are good for and which to avoid, about her delight at the moment -- she's clearly quite thrilled at the moment! She keeps reaching out and patting Norris' head or shoulder, as if she can't believe her current height, and is enjoying herself immensely.
Norris smiles at lets Mikal usurp control of the conversation casually...he does admires the stag, and a couple times ponders reaching out to touch him like Mikal does...but then he stops himself. He's not Mikal, and doesn't feel like startling an animal that big, with a set of horns like a gorse thicket. Sure, he's armored...but his face isn't.
The group approaches the foresters' lodge; Dalling and a couple of others are visible watching their approach, visibly impressed and approving.
Mikal beams and waves!
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