| Logs |
2013 August 18
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Taps Logs |
Down By the River
Rufus snuffles at the boxes, but doesn't blink an eye at 'Chana taking the one with what is likely her own hair in it. He plops down on his haunches, tail sweeping through the dust and ash. Rattler shrugs and says, "Dunno. Only way to know is to ask." The dark-haired man starts getting to his feet, murmuring, "I t'ink he really was fallin' in love, cher. Jes' don' t'ink he unnerstood how to do it."
Rufus seems to think that 'Chana's guesses on whose hair that is could be right, but he doesn't know for sure. Suraksha looks up at her Chosen, then shakes her head once before leaning against him, [Hell of a way for the poor man to go, then.] She sighs softly and lets Rufus know she understands, then sends him off to discreetly ask Vashti if she'd like this brought in or not. Sura doesn't want to interrupt anything solemn the townsfolk have going on right now, after all... plus she wants a moment to concentrate here, and see if she can shift her shape back to the human form at sunset. Rufus lopes off to carry the message, seeming happy enough to do so.
Rattler leans over to brush some of the dust and ash out of 'Chana's coat, murmuring to her, "You make a pretty wolf, lover, but I'm flat-out glad you ain't stayin' here." His voice is gentle but tired. As he grooms her fur the best he can with his bare hands, he feels 'Chana tensing as she tries to change back. There's a feeling in the air as if something is trying very, very hard to happen... and then it dies off with 'Chana still in the form of a wolf.
Suraksha sighs and leans against Rattler again, her mental voice rueful, [Me too, lover! I would go crazy living in one place here, not able to get to you and Bringer. Malachai meant well, I do not doubt, but...] She pauses, considering, then wryly adds, [I suspect his protective hand closed far too tightly for my taste, around those he felt he owned!] She sighs as she also explains, [Looks like I'm stuck in this form until dawn, blast it. I can't seem to shift with sunset.] Suraksha idly glances at the papers, [Wonder if those are some form of diary or something?] From what she can see, the papers don't have titles so much as dates at the tops. Some of them are stuck together.
Rattler nods and crouches so that he's more on 'Chana's level, "What about the herbs?"
Suraksha shakes her head, [I don't know, sweet. I had the skin wrapped around me for warmth while I talked to Alan. Then I turned to shift shape and run back here... but the form I ended up in was wolf, not tiger.] She brushes one paw over the end of her nose in embarrassment, [Sorry, lover.]
Rattler nods and says, "But... didn't de girl say somet'ing about Malachai sending herbs to stop a transformation?"
Suraksha murmurs mentally, [Rachel, yes. She also said it was done so rarely that they didn't even know the right dosages -- and, worse to my way of seeing things, that the drugs were rumored to stop all changes -- maybe even to knock the person out.] Drily she adds, [We shall not be experimenting on my person with them, thank you all the same. I'd be willing to experiment with the huge wolfskins, since that's something I naturally do -- Lamia are shapechangers, after all -- but something that destroys a natural part of me? Hell no!]
Rattler nods and shrugs with a wry smile, "It's your body, cher." He stands up again and rests a hand on her back, "Let's get dis stuff down de hill."
Suraksha rises to her feet as she glances around, adding, [Rufus should be back soon... hopefully with someone to take this box. I'm thinking I've had enough of this town's craziness. If we're lucky, Vashti will remember to pay us for the rest of Malachai's bill and for Caroline's careful work, but either way we are getting out of here as soon as courteously possible.] She sneezes from the dust rising from her coat, then adds only a touch grumpily, [and after a blessed bath! I swear... ash gets everywhere!]
Rattler smiles wryly, getting the images of irritation, hope for payment, and the desire to get away, "Cher, you said you'd be at de ceremonies t'night."
Suraksha nods as she scents the twilight breeze for Rufus' return, [I did. But I will wait for the howl to start as my signal to arrive.]
When Rufus returns, he's in his human form and wearing more-somber-than-usual clothing. He nods to 'Chana and Rattler and says, "Vashti says to please bring the papers. And she asked me to invite you both to her home. She will be having prayers there before the ceremony."
Suraksha raises a canid eyebrow, then glances inquiringly up at Rattler -- does he wish to come, or return to the caravan? She adds drily to her beloved, [Ask him if Vashti realizes just how dirty I am currently?] She glances curiously at Rufus, wondering how he got clean so fast.
Rattler smiles at Rufus -- his large, shining, roguish smile that shows almost all of his teeth, "We will be back for the ceremony, but I think we'd both prefer a bath before then." 'Chana recognizes that her beloved is putting on some of his kingly presence for this. Rufus seems to shrink a little at the smile. The young wolf-hearted takes the box and ducks his head, "I will let her know."
Suraksha lets her tongue loll out relaxedly and wags her tail in thanks and reassurance to Rufus. She suspects the smaller man was just intimidated by her (very alpha when he wants) sweetheart. She grins amusedly up at Rattler once Rufus has departed, bumping her head against him and amusedly thinking, [We're going to have to be careful with teeth around him, if he leaves with the caravan!]
Rattler laughs, eyes twinkling, "I should be nicer to him. I t'ink if any of dem actually end up going with us, dey're going to have some rude awakenings." He sighs and pushes a hand through his hair, "Tell me I am not as bad a king as Malachai was."
Suraksha snorts disdainfully at that, not even dignifying such ridiculousness with an answer! As the two of them turn to head back across the fields to the caravan she gets a wicked grin, leaning her head against his thigh as they walk to pass her thoughts on to him: a teasingly reassuring, [Oh, not at all! -once I was there to straighten you out!] She laughs delightedly up at her beloved, tongue lolling again.
Rattler snorts and pats 'Chana's shoulder, "Way to flatter a king-in-exile, cher." Suraksha giggles at her lover, dancing lightly and joyously around him as they head across the fields. She's careful to guide him well through the darkness, and once they're back she gives a sigh of relief at the thought of being clean again. Idly she wishes she could shift into her native form within the stream -- not only will all the townsfolk be busy currently, but floating in her lover's element while serpentine would be an absolutely lovely feeling!
Once they're back at the caravan, Rattler grabs the soap they use to clean the caravan pack before performances and a couple of big towels, "Let's get you clean." As they walk, 'Chana realizes that her vision, though still better than Rattler's is at night, is still not quite up to snuff -- and her fur feels like every strand individually itches. Still, they both know the way to the deepest, calmest part of the nearby stream.
Suraksha shakes her pelt impatiently -- this fine ashy dust is getting into everything! She blinks a few times, relieved her wolf form relies more on its nose than vision. As Roy picks up the cleaning goods, she plonks her butt down and scratches vigorously with one hind foot. Man, she is going to be so glad for the dawn! Rattler grins affectionately at her itchy impatience and clucks his tongue, eyes twinkling. It's the type of sound they use to call the caravan pack. The moment he does it, he starts backing away, laughter in his face.
Suraksha's eyes widen in startlement as the sound registers -- then she bounces lightly to her feet with a half-laughing, half-growly sound of protest. Darting in, she cheerfully nips at his rump as she flashes past! Suraksha's tongue is lolling in laughter, but she still dances around him impatiently, either nudging or nipping teasingly to get her lover moving to the stream -- if he's got time to tease her like that then it's definitely time to hustle!
Rattler is chuckling the whole way to the stream, teasing her back and making playful growling sounds of his own; snapping his straight, white teeth at her until they get to the stream. Once they're there he strips off his own clothes and folds them carefully away from the stream. He can dry them easily, but it's simpler just to not get them wet.
Suraksha giggles to herself, backing up to take a long, running leap into the water -- she's trying to splash her lover! She knows he can dry off effortlessly, so she feels no guilt about getting him or his clothing wet! Rattler calls out indignantly as he tosses his trousers onto the pile with his shirt and boots, "Insolent wench!" He follows her into the water and pounces on her, calling on the water to stay away from their faces.
Suraksha laughs delightedly -- and utterly unrepentantly! Once he's in the water it becomes more play for a bit, since she knows he's an undine. When it comes to water, Rattler just wins, after all! Soon, though, she's vigorously rolling on the pebbly bottom of the stream, trying to work the clean sand and water through her fur to get all the clingy ash out. It's lovely having a sweetheart that can keep her from having to dive repeatedly! Rattler helps out with soap and coarse scrubbing cloths. He hums softly as he helps her get clean, eyes warm and expression soft. She does so much for so many, and times like these, he remembers how blessed he is.
Suraksha isn't watching her lover's face at that moment -- she sighs in sensual bliss, wriggling happily as she stands spraddle-legged in the stream, her clawed toes dug in to hold her in position. Not only is the cool water a delicious sensation as it ripples and flows through her fur -- but her beloved's assiduous attentions are really scratching her itch -- both metaphorically and physically tonight!
Rattler, whose romantic leanings are never far from the surface, starts talking as he works the soap into the ashy, wet fur. "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: / for thy love is better than wine. / Because of the savor of thy good ointments / thy name is as ointment poured forth, / therefore do the virgins love thee..."
Suraksha sighs happily, recognizing one of her favorite songs. She tilts her head back, dreamy with pleasure, letting her thoughts drift with her senses: the scent of the flower-imbued soap, the teasingly cool tickle of the water, the beloved scent of her dear Chosen nearby, and the warmth of his voice... she sighs contentedly, humming a quiet prayer of thanks to the Lady of Serpents for such wonderful blessings in her life.
Rattler continues to intone the Song as his hands work through the luxuriant fur, his court-trained voice taking on the cadence almost of a ritual, "Draw me, we will run after thee: / the King has brought us into his chambers; / we will be glad and rejoice in thee, / we will remember our love more than wine; / the upright love thee." He uses his Tapping ability to keep the water streaming over her, washing away the grit and the dust and ash; washing away the dirt of the day.
Suraksha feels increasingly lovely -- as if she were shedding not just the dirt of the day, but also all the annoyances she didn't want: the wolfish form, the unwitting pressure from Malachai to conform to his idea of a mate, the grief of his tragic and pointless murder, the heat and sweat of the day, the pain of slaying another regardless of how kind it might have been... even the occasionally heavy responsibilities of guiding the caravan safely across country. Just to lie here relaxedly in the comfortably cool stream, with her dearly beloved Chosen ministering to her, is an unaccountably sweet bliss.
It's not until Rattler's recitation stops with a small gasp of surprise that she realizes that something is happening. He stands, blinking at a clump of fur in his hand, obvious worry on his face for a moment. Suraksha tilts her head to glance over her shoulder, lazily shaking her soggy mane of water-dark hair back so she can see. "Mmm?"
Rattler says, "Your fur..." He reaches down again and another handful comes out in his hand. He blinks at the fact that he doesn't see pink skin, but the scintillating scales of the Naga beneath it, "Cherie..." The change in size is gradual, the wolf growing larger and more lanky.
Suraksha stretches and gives a little wriggle that travels gracefully down the length of her body, as the itchy feeling starts to finally go away, "Mmhmm? Oooh, that feels goo-ood, lover!" She flashes a grin over her shoulder at Roy, almost purring, "Do that s'more?" A heartbeat later she blinks, then says delightedly, "I'm talking again! Did you pull the wolfskin off somehow, sweetheart?"
The black fur is sliding off in clumps and tatters, leaving the actual wolfskin wrapped around 'Chana's torso. Rattler slides his hands down her body, helping shed the itchiness, watching the long, sinuous tail uncurl from within the fur, the whole glorious length of 'Chana's true form unfurling from nowhere. "No, cher... you're still wearin' it..."
Suraksha hisses softly, trying to shake or pull the pelt off her body, "Well, let's ssee if we can get it off! I sshould return it to Vasshti, after all... I don't need another sshape when they're sso sshort on wolfsskins, you know?"
Rattler moves to help get the skin off, gently untying it, "Lemme do dat, cher... you jes' stretch out..." He reaches up to stroke her face, "How you feelin'?" He's starting to realize what's happening.
Suraksha sighs with softly hissing contentment, gently leaning her cheek against Rattler's fingers, "Absolutely wonderful, sweet man. Cherished and clean and loved and... and really lovely -- thank you so much!" She gives a sensuous shiver of enjoyment as the soggy, clinging wolfskin is finally lifted away from her body. The cool rush of clean water and silky, billowing cloud of her hair across her freshly cleaned and tingling skin is positively erotic to her.
Rattler stands in the water up to his thighs and looks 'Chana over as she lounges in the water. He can tell she's grown. The last time he saw her in her true form, she was a full six feet shorter and definitely not as thick through the sinuous, reptilian tail. Now that the wolfskin is gone and she's in this form, he can see some of why she was having a problem: she's shedding. There are rags and tatters of dried, flaking skin along her tail. "You're beautiful, love..." He picks up handfuls of the smooth pebbles from the streambed and begin gently scrubbing the scales of her tail, "Let's get this old skin off..."
Suraksha beams up with dreamy pleasure at her lover, "Aww, you charmer!" She laughs and happily helps out, rolling her body so the long, powerful muscles scrub gently along the streambed. Considering how wonderfully freeing shedding is for her, and how lovely her sweetheart's enjoyment of her feels, it takes her several minutes before she nearly purrs, "Mmm, how'ss that? All clean?" She trails her fingertips along Rattler's thigh as she grins and adds, "And... what can I do for you, ssweet man?"
Rattler can't help but grin at the purr in Suraksha's voice. He slides up around her to rest in the water with her human-shaped torso leaning back against his body, hands just under her breasts, "For now... let's just let the water hold us, cherie..." By 'hold' he clearly means caress. She can feel the way his Tapping ability lets him slide the water over both their bodies, moving like cool silk against skin and scales. Motherhood has left her more voluptuous than she was when they first became lovers and he was contracting with her as Hetaera.
Suraksha sighs happily, almost melting against him with tactile pleasure, "Mmmm! Anything you like, ssweet man, if you're going to react like thiss!" Her low, throaty chuckle vibrates softly against his arms about her body, and she adds, "I do not think I can go to their howl, dress-ssed like thiss, after all!"
Rattler laughs and slides his hands up along her body to cup her breasts, teasing their tips. He always has loved the feel of them in his hands, "Well, no, guess you can't..." Warm and hard, she can feel him against her back as presses close to her and nibbles along her shoulder, "T'ink we can get you a pair of legs in a couple hours?"
Suraksha shivers happily at her lover's caresses, tilting her head and brushing her dark, clingingly wet hair back so he can more easily reach her. "Mmmmaybe?" She laughs, stroking his bare thighs with pleasure as she wriggles enticingly against him. "Mmm... I'd like to ssee how much-sh longer I've grown too, if we have a moment -- thiss doessn't happen often with uss, I know!"
Rattler mms in response and chuckles, "Let's measure, shall we?" He wriggles his way around until he's pressed against her front, the water cradling her like a hammock so that his weight doesn't press her beneath it, "We can see how many Roy-lengt's you are, lover..." He takes her face in his hands and kisses her long and slow and thoroughly.
Suraksha laughs delightedly at his measurement length -- but the laughter is swiftly muffled in her dreamily enticing purr as she returns her beloved's kiss. Her hands trail slowly along his sides as she enjoys his touch, and when they both come up for air she breathlessly purrs, "One!" then giggles.
Rattler murmurs, "One, indeed..." then he proceeds to slink his way down her body, hands and mouth caressing her skin quite thoroughly has he moves, pausing at her breasts to be quite sure he got every inch. His lips and tongue tease her nipples shamelessly and his breathing is speeding up as he rubs himself against her smooth, warm skin and scales.
Suraksha is practically whimpering with sensual abandon, her head tossed back and her back arched for her lover. Her tail flips up and the end coils caressingly about one of Rattler's ankles as she manages to laughingly gasp out, "Oh, Roy, lovely man, you keep that up and I will definitely not have legss in time!"
Rattler looks up at her from beneath the fringe of his bangs that have fallen in his face, "Den we'll get on to measurin'... an' you can give me a raincheck..." Despite that, he takes great pleasure in sliding his way down her body to mark off her new dimensions in 'Roy-lengths.'
Suraksha laughs breathlessly again, and her voice warms as she watches him and murmurs, "I love you so much, dear heart!" She has to uncoil her tail in order for the last bits of her to be measured, but considering the way Roy's hands are sliding along her happily quivering tail, it's well worth the effort.
Rattler is not shy to caress and kiss the shining, tender scales, knowing that her skin will be extra-sensitive just after a shed, before the scales have had a chance to harden completely. In the end, doing math with his height, she has indeed put on just over six feet in length and Roy is happy to curl against her in the water with her tail wrapped around him like an extensive hug.
Suraksha makes endearingly hissy squeaks at the tingly, ticklish, delightful kisses, and she's giggling and squirming by the time he's done. She hugs him tightly with her human arms, and carefully with her tail, overjoyed at her new growth, "Thiss iss sso wonderful, beautiful man -- I haven't grown like thiss ssince I sstopped looking like a human child!"
Rattler smiles, hands still wandering rather lasciviously, "Well, beloved, dey say dat adversity makes our souls grow... mebbe you're growin' to match your soul."
Suraksha chuckles quietly, leaning her head to brush both her soft, forked tongue and gentle kisses along her sweetheart's skin. "I don't know... but I do know I am sso very glad you are here with me, Roy. Even if we never get to travel like thiss again, even though I will do my besst to help you regain your throne... I want you to know that."
Rattler reaches up to brush his fingertips against her cheek. He has never had girlishly soft hands, but he definitely has the hands of a working man now, "'N I am glad if I had to do dis, it was with you, my love."
Suraksha sighs happily, gently exploring her sweetheart with hands and tail and skin and tongue. It is around the time she momentarily (and delightedly) distracts him so thoroughly that for an instant water splashed over them both -- as he groans and clutches her in erotic release -- that she realizes she's once more in human form. She sighs happily, cuddling up against Roy for a few heartbeats more; she's heard the slow, almost tentative first howls start from the youngest pack members, but she wants to share this joyously triumphant moment with her beloved. Time enough to grieve, she thinks, but the moments that take one's breath away should be savored to the fullest.
Once Rattler has control over his ability once more, he wraps them both in the caress of water again and rests his forehead against hers, voice husky, "And in the midst of death, there is life..."
Suraksha nods slowly, her fingers caressing lightly along her sweetheart's cheek, "Yes. We are truly blessed, I think, to have such strong, beautiful daughters." She brushes a kiss against his lips, then whispers, "I should go. Do you want to come as well, handsome? I think you were invited?"
Rattler sighs in mock disappointment and stands up, offering 'Chana his hand, "I'll come. I'll even try to look less like a pirate than normal."
Suraksha giggles, rising to her feet and taking his hand. "You poor, poor man! The abuse I subject you to: snuggling, horses, more snuggling, baby girls, yet more snuggling, lots of folks who like you just for who you are rather than what you can give them -- and then I cruelly snuggle you yet again!" Her laughter is lighthearted and joyous as she shakes her head to loosen the wet cling of her long, midnight-dark hair. It has molded itself to her back and thighs, and flows off in the rippling water as well -- when all the curl is pulled out of it by water, it's quite long!
Rattler steps up behind her and laughs, sliding his hands over her hair to encourage the water out of it. As much as he likes the way it clings to her body, it's not exactly good for a funeral. Suraksha makes sure to scoop up the wolfskin along with the various towels and soaps they brought. Despite being very careful to not wrap the skin around her arm or anything -- carrying it in a towel sounds safe to her -- she'll quietly ask Rattler if he can carefully pull the excess water from the magical item.
While they make their way back to the caravan and put on appropriate clothes for mourning, the caravan pack begins to join in the howling. By the time they're done getting dressed and are heading for the funeral, the pelt has been stripped of excess moisture and tied up carefully in a piece of oilskin to take back to the town.
Suraksha kisses both their little girls goodnight, murmuring that she'll be back in the morning -- they should snuggle with Fantine and dream sweet dreams until then! The small woman exits her wagon with Rattler (who'd also kissed the girls goodnight) and leans against him for a moment. She sighs with pleasure as she inhales his beloved scent -- she feels more right with him around. Then with Fantine's capable assistance, she swiftly plaits up her hair into a braided crown on her head, so it's not fluffing and flowing excitingly around her during this solemn evening. Suraksha smiles quietly up at Rattler when that's done, as Fantine checks them over, then hmms, then pronounces them both suitably dressed. She picks up the oilskin and murmurs, "Shall we, lover?" as she tucks her small hand decorously into the crook of his arm.
Rattler has attended more than his share of funerals, having been a soldier before he was a king. He is beginning to slip into that solemn mindset as he escorts his lover into town. The man doesn't even realize he's humming quietly under his breath: a low, soft song; an old hymn. Suraksha smiles faintly as she glances up at him; she's deeply touched that he's willing to accompany her on what is, really, the funeral of someone who tried very hard to replace him. Once they get to the edge of town she looks around for someone to guide them, so they do the right things for the customs of this place.
There is no need for a person to guide them. In the time that they've been gone, there have been luminarias set up. All the candle-lit paths lead to the center of town. In the same space where there was dancing and laughter only days before, there is a bier. And when they get closer, it is easier to see that the bier is actually a pyre. Suraksha nods slowly, then sighs quietly. A gentle squeeze on her lover's arm, a small smile up at him, and she's ready to go face the townsfolk; to join in their lament. She and Roy walk slowly and with dignity up the firelit path.
The townspeople are all dressed in black. There are no hints of white or colored cloth about them. The men are behatted, the women wear veils. The wolf-hearted are gathered around the pyre and are taking it in turns to howl. By a quick count, all the wolf-hearted are in their four-legged forms. Considering there are only seven now, and one is possibly still healing, it's easy to notice that fact. Suraksha nods graciously to any of the human-souled who approach them; she suspects at least someone has been tapped to be the guide for human-formed individuals here. She is not wearing a veil and Roy does not wear a hat, but her clothing (like Roy's) is appropriately somber.
Rachel spots them and comes over, smiling with her mouth and her eyes tired, "Welcome. We are just getting well-gathered." Suraksha gently hugs Rachel in greeting. The younger woman hesitates to say something to them about their uncovered heads. After all, no one told them about covering up -- another example of the town just assuming everyone does it their way. Luckily, both caravaneers are dark-haired, so it does not show as much as if one of the blonde townsfolk were uncovered. Finally Rachel asks, "Would you like to stand with me?"
Suraksha nods gravely and smiles, "We'd be happy to, Rachel." She's glad she wove her hair into a neat, braided crown about her head -- perhaps that will suffice to demonstrate respect. She's very glad she didn't leave it loose too! She knows there are places still that believe variants on women's loose hair attracting demons or implying witchcraft, after all.
Rachel's voice is low, "I'm sorry I didn't mention the covering of the head. I'm sure everyone will realize you mean no respect." She's glancing at Rattler nervously. She's not seen him in his full Aspect as King and he isn't quite aware how much he's projecting. Hesitantly she says, "I can get you a scarf if you'd like?"
Suraksha tilts her head thoughtfully at Rachel, murmuring, "Would Malachai wear a hat at a funeral?"
Rachel's eyes crinkle slightly and she murmurs, "He would not, but only because he would be in his wolf shape." In fact, no one is saying anything. Most eyes are on the pyre and the wolves. Several people are holding small tokens -- flowers or other small things -- in their hands as the wolves howl.
Suraksha chuckles quietly, then tries a different question, "All right. Would people be more comfortable if we borrowed a hat and a scarf?"
Rachel looks around, gauging the people's reaction. Rattler smiles with a small upturn of his lips and undoes the sash that he's wearing at his waist despite his promise not to look too much like a pirate. "We've got the veil covered, I think."
Suraksha puts a hand lightly on Rattler's, murmuring, "Wait, please. Let Rachel think a moment?" She's puzzled as to why Rachel would suggest a veil but not a hat.
Rachel thinks about it, chewing her bottom lip, "No. No." By the second repetition she seems more sure of herself, "Honor him in your own way." She flushes a bit.
Suraksha nods and smiles, "Thank you, dear. Shall we approach the bier now?" She has, after some thought, brought her strand of hair with her. While she doesn't want it kept as part of Malachai's property, she also has no use for it... and so she thought perhaps this was a means of carefully disposing of it that would also honor the deceased. She smiles faintly as she indicates the oilskin-wrapped bundle and adds, "We also brought the wolfskin with us."
Rachel takes the bundle carefully; reverently: "But... it's yours..." She seems unsure again, "Malachai sent it as part of your payment." Still, she doesn't seem to be moving to give it back. Instead, she's hugging it to her chest as she moves with them to where she was standing, which is in the first rank of human-hearted behind the wolves.
Suraksha says gently to Rachel, "Sweetie, this is a treasure of your entire town. It's not right, I believe, for it to be treated like the property of a single individual. Take it, please. We'd rather be paid with things that will not harm you all by their loss." Rachel hugs the skin to herself again and nods, leaning her head down as if she can smell the skin through its covering.
The howling is starting to change. Instead of single voices, they are raising their voices in twos and threes; here and there a human voice joins them. The human-hearted in Friendsville have learned to sound eerily lupine. Rachel's voice is low as she explains, "The song will rise and rise until the moon is overhead..." the moon is rising, but not yet completely overhead, "as we sing..." One of the older townsfolk makes his way through the crowd and lays a small bouquet of dried flowers on the wood of pyre, and Rachel continues, "We will leave our gifts." This close, there is the sharp smell of oil on the wood. At the four corners of the pyre are braziers with piles of small torches piled beside them.
Suraksha nods gravely, studying the pyre and the singing wolves as she listens to Rachel. She's glad she chose to appear in human form; a tiger would have been... a bit odd for the townsfolk, she suspects. She's curious as to what is supposed to occur when the moon is fully overhead during the singing; she also decides to wait until a few more folks have left gifts until she lays down hers as well.
The singing of the wolves and the townsfolk becomes more and more complex. This is not just the ululation of animals; there are weird, melancholic harmonies and occasional soaring notes that ache with grief and sadness... and the whole time, no words are spoken. After the first gift, more people step forward. There are many of them, but no more than five or six move forward at a time, making sure there is no unseemly jostling. Some of the tokens are flowers, but still others are small wooden carvings or small bundles of cloth. Rachel shakes it off and says quietly, "When the moon is overhead, we will light the pyre."
Suraksha ahs and nods. "Thank you, dear." She waits until there's a bit of a pause in the people coming to the pyre before she steps slowly forward. She reaches out and gently settles the little jewelry box with her hair in it next to the other offerings. There is a small murmur that has a true sound of approval in it when 'Chana steps forward with her tribute. For a moment she stands, head bowed as she murmurs, "Be well, old wolf. May you romp with joy in the afterlife, with all your ancestors... until your soul returns to your children to be reborn." After that she steps back to her previous position and waits.
Rachel is crying silently and Rattler slips his arm around his beloved's shoulders when she steps back beside him. Rachel says quietly, "You should take a torch..." Indeed, as people left their offerings, they took a torch from one of the four piles. Suraksha glances at Rachel, then nods -- the girl wouldn't have suggested it if it were not proper. She gently squeezes Rattler's hand, then steps to take a torch as well. When she returns, she leans against Rattler. She's seen, participated in, and led more funerals than she cares to think about -- which, considering her chosen lifestyle, is really no surprise. A bit tiredly she decides they never get any easier... it's always hard on those left behind.
The howling is starting to be from all sides, from all the voices; the moon stands high overhead. It is not full, but its silver light still gently, lovingly bathes the still face of the old alpha. For these people, for the wolf-hearted, the moon is the most constant lover they have. People begin to step forward. There is a definite progression this time. The people in the front ranks, who 'Chana now sees are all the closest relatives, step forward with their torches. Rachel urges her forward as well.
Suraksha steps forward as well, moving slowly and gracefully so the others can do whatever it is they're going to do slightly before her... and so she can follow their lead. A small part of her keens silently, internally, as she studies Malachai's face. Such a terrible waste -- children dead, adults attacked and some killed, the town's thane murdered... and all for the unmitigated greed of one crazy man. Maybe it is for the best that a large number of the town's women head out with the caravan. That sort of insanity would be dangerous to keep in the town's bloodlines, after all.
The flames that lick at the soaked wood are just normal flames, but as they eat into the wood, different colors begin to dance through them: purple and green and magenta threading through the orange and red. The scents of herbs and sweet oils rise on the smoke as the flames lick at the wood. The song of the wolves and the townsfolk slowly changes, the minor key and sadness climbing upward toward exultation.
Suraksha lays her torch down with the rest, then steps back so others can approach. Sliding her arm about Roy's waist, she finds herself humming softly along with the town's eerily beautiful song. She leans her head against his shoulder as she watches. Her golden eyes are bright as the flickering flames, and she's unaware that the funeral pyre fire is picking up iridescent highlights in her night-dark hair. Roy is humming as well, eyes closed, body swaying. In fact, most of the people are swaying, hands are beginning to reach upward into the night with the flames. The varicolored flames reach the linen-wrapped form of the old thane and there is a burst of scent and color. Blue, green, purple, magenta, and the scents of cedar and sage and moss -- the scents of a run in the woods.
Suraksha sniffs with appreciation; she thinks these scents suit poor Malachai quite well. The singing pulls her along with it, in a way, such that she ends up opening her mouth to sing in soft, harmonic ululation with the others. She can feel the strengthening of the emotional connection between the townsfolk as they weep together, and she doesn't bother brushing away the silent tears that slide down her cheeks, glittering like liquid diamond in the firelight.
'Chana knows that the scents are partially there to cover the smell of a funeral pyre, but they are quite evocative. All around, the townsfolk are reaching out, touching one another, becoming one singing being, voices now raised in exultation. This, at least, has come down from their ancestors very nearly untouched. Sulochana suspects that, had there been more than a stream nearby, the old thane would be on a funeral boat now. She smiles faintly at that thought, then glances sideways up at her swaying beloved. She's very glad he's here with her; her arm tightens for a moment about his waist. After that she simply lets the music and the night take her, and if any of the townsfolk approach she'll join with them in this ritual of grief and release.
Suraksha sways and sings with the others, her internal prayers as much for the living as for the dead. Hands reach out to touch 'Chana and Rattler, not grabbing, just completing the circuit as the people sway and sing. Tears of joy and mourning pouring down their faces. Grief shared is grief divided. Joy shared is joy multiplied.
The flames leap into the air, and the circle backs up as the heat grows. Around the edges of the group there are people with buckets of water; they do not wish to lose anything more to fire than they already have. Rachel's voice is soft as she says, "We can begin leaving now. The teaching is that once the first smoke from his... body... reaches the air, his spirit has escaped."
Suraksha nods silently to Rachel, her glowing eyes raised to watch the dancing sparks flaring through the smoky air. She whispers softly, "Run well, old wolf," before she turns and says to Rachel, "Lead the way, please." She takes Roy's hand, her fingers comfortingly intertwined with his, and steps away from the pyre with the young girl in the lead. 'Chana takes a deep breath as she follows... she feels oddly as if they're all a little freer now; grief is a heavy load to carry.
Rachel leads them away from the center of town and toward Vashti's house, explaining, "I'm going to take the wolfskin to Vashti's house so it will be safe. The wolf-hearted will go for a run when the howling is done."
Suraksha nods and murmurs, "That's fine. Would they like company, or would a large tiger be a bit much for this?"
Rachel smiles, "I think they will welcome you."
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