Wapun Meadow there's an oily brine bilge water baptism waiting below
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#26
"Splendid!" Wraen exclaimed and then blushed beneath her fur for the outburst of her excitement. It had been a long time since she had had an opportunity to polish her rusty story-teller skills. Plus, the fact that Osprey had always insisted that stories were of value only if you shared them with others. 

With a brief legend on her mind already, spiced up with some details of her own, she pointed out to the round Duck lake in the distance and told: "Do you see that lake? In old times lakes flew around the world in a form of clouds and were looking for the best place to land and stay. So did this one too - smaller than many of his comrades he had a hard time finding a good spot.

Until one day he fell asleep, while hovering above a forest of the same size. For whatever reason something made him fall down. What he did not know was that the forest was inhabited by a small pack of angry wolves. Naturally a large mass of water that falls on your head suddenly surprised many. Some - fled in time and swam ashore, but the grumpiest stayed. And believe it or not - the same magic that gave lakes a power to fly around, turned these remaining fellows in fish of the same demeanor. 

These fish are called "water wolves" or pike as known by most. Hardy, aggressive and always hungry."
With this she finished her story. Pike had been her own invention - having once found fishbones from it and seen the set of sharp teeth in them. "So - now is your turn," she said, looking around for a good subject, until her eyes fell on the trees of Fox glade. "What do you think - how did that forest come to be?"
i will pry his bony fingers free
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#27
indra settled into a polite silence, an ear turned towards the slate-painted female that she may listen and fully digest everything that was shared. while her own imagination was in short, crippled, she appreciated the artistry that went into a good story.

and it was a good story; indra was familiar with the lake, and familiar with pike -- that they were called water-wolves was not, in any way shape or form, an untoward idea to indra who had witnessed firsthand the fistful of snaggle teeth in their jaws.

she looked to the forest wraen motioned after, and ever uninspired, tried to follow in wraen's footsteps: "um.. hmm.." yet nothing came. she shifted uncomfortably, disappointed in her failing imagination. "okay.. thousands of years ago in these foothills there was a pack of wolves who worshipped the moon for her fine fairness and her ability to bring about seas and life-giving water. the sun, jealous that he was not worshipped too, pulled away from the earth and brought with his departure a long and dark winter.

the wolves struggled, but without thick coats, many died. the moon was upset to see her subjects tormented by the cold, and gave those that had worshipped her thick coats so they might fight the winter. the sun, unhappy with this subterfuge, came down to earth in the form of a deer so that he might smite the mortals that had rejected him in favor of his sister the moon. the wolves, hungry for winter had chased off their prey, tried to hunt him -- and each wolf that touched his hide was reduced to a flare of burning ash.

the wolves knew then that this was no ordinary deer, but a god, and they fled from him. but the resentful god would not be spurned and chased after them with blades of fire as they fled through the world.

to protect her subjects the moon pulled up great sheets of ice and earth, and in the cradle of this eruption sprung a deep forest so that the wolves could hide from winter and the angry sun. but the sun could not be escaped, and continued his terror. realizing her mortals could not outrun the sun, the moon turned her surviving people into foxes -- and the sun, thinking he had killed off the last of the moon's subjects, settled back contently into the sky."
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
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#28
While Indra did not think very highly of her story-telling skills, Wraen was captured by her tale from the very first moment and to the very end she listened with keen interest, her eyes having a glint of wonder and her mouth slightly agape. It was not every day you met a person, who could offer a story in return for one she had given, but this time had been different. Upon returning home Wraen would have something valuable to add to her mental library. 

"You are a natural," she told Indra. "That was simply amazing!"
i will pry his bony fingers free
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#29
indra had paused a few times in her deliverance, made unsure by wraen's expression. thankfully, the woman seemed impressed -- indra felt her heart flutter in relief for she had not at all been impressed with herself. she tried a roll of her shoulders casually; maybe natural was an overstatement, but she appreciated the compliment especially coming from wraen.

"that was ok?" she breathed, feeling a lightness as she sought the sunspire wolf's validation -- "i just borrowed from real life. like, multiple stories and stuff, i guess." she hadn't been that original -- she knew people loved a story with a premise and a cruel god, and had simply gone down that narrative path. "i know someone who has really cool stories. maybe stories isn't the right word. he believes in them, i mean."
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
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#30
Wraen was not one to hold back a good word or praise, where it was neccessary and required. The story might not have felt of the same quality to Indra, because she had been the one telling it, but her chosen audience was quick to overlook pauses and moments, where the narrative had stalled a little, converting words to images and vivid scenes readily. 

"Well, I hate to break it for you, but that is, how most stories are made," Wraen said with a good-natured laugh. "I mean there is hardly anything in the world that has not been there before - it's the art of picking out the right strands and weaving them together in a new fabric that matters," she said. 

"Wow - who is that?" Wraen asked, knowing for sure that at least 50% of this description could apply to Osprey.
i will pry his bony fingers free
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#31
wraen's words had a truth to them, and indra considered them quietly. it was certainly true that many myths and stories were weaved from a single strand of hardened experience; yet she wondered too, where these fantastical monsters and beasts of lore had been constructed from, and if at one point their ghastly shapes had roamed the earth.

she thought of tadec and his stories - she still did not feel story was the right word, for it conveyed little of the earnest belief and firm conviction he had for them. and what was he to her? she fumbled for an answer. "tadec - he lives with me in bearclaw valley." she searched wraen's countenance for any sign of recognition, wondering if she had ever chanced to meet the flitting crow.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
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#32
Wraen's face changed in recognition of the name, but since her meeting with Tadec had happened many weeks ago and had not been very eventful, she could not put the word together with the face. And preferring to admit her ignorance rather than pretending that she knew something, when she - in fact - was not 100% sure, she shook her head. 

"Do not know the fellow, but it would be nice to meet a kindred soul also fond of stories," she said. By now she realized that she had spent long time enough in the valley and that, if she wanted to return to Sunspire before darkness, she should start moving now. "I had a great time with you Indra and, but I have to go home now. If you do not mind - I would like to meet you someday again," she offered. 

Maybe you can fade out in your next post? Thank you for the thread!
i will pry his bony fingers free
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#33
thank you for the thread! and thanks for being patient with me when i was slow, haha

there passed across wraen's pewter countenance a shade indra thought was recognition, yet her assumption seemed false, as wraen shook her head and admitted she had yet to meet tadec. indra felt her hopes slowly settle, but assumed then she had simply misread the woman's features -- after all, wraen was still largely a stranger, and it was easy to misinterpret the expressions of those you do not know well.

it was time for the two to part ways; indra understood wraen's need to return home, and she canted her muzzle and rejoined "that would be nice. it was good meeting you." without supplying any further conversation, she slipped from the promontory and headed for more familiar trails.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.