The Sentinels circle of perversion

he had regained a sense of himself, though his ranks had dwindled. faithful pearl had departed them, and he feared that perhaps others might as well. new packs had arisen in the land -- lasher kept his travels between donnelaith and sometimes the north. he must soon go to the hollow and seek out luke, and perhaps ayishik, but for now, he was content to be as he was.

a goose swung from the druid's jaws as he padded back toward the heart of the land, and he was appreciative of the solitude as he began to store it away in a cache.

ooc: pounces!!! :D

It had got a lot warmer in the past few days and the hours, when the sun ruled over the sky, had got longer. Though the spring madness had left Osprey's bloodstream completely, she still felt differently than in winter. Happier, her soul featherlight and joyous. Maybe one of the reasons was the fact that she was very much in love with her mate and that the ban to leave the territories had been lifted, giving back her freedom to wander, wherever she wanted. 

Her injured leg had healed and she decided that returning the remaining willow bark to Blue willow would be a wiser thing to do than just throwing it away. Therefore, when her path happened to cross Lasher's she was carrying the piece of the bitter-tasting medicine, holding it with the tips of her incisors. The taste even in the unchewed state was far from great and she wanted to avoid accidentaly swallowing. However this resolution almost failed, when she briefly forgot about the object and attempted to greet the leader. What started with "He..." ended with a fit of coughing and gagging, while she tried to get rid of the pieces of bark that were stuck to her soft palate.

yay!!

lasher had not yet noticed osprey, until the gunmetal woman's choking coughs drew his immediate attention and he moved swiftly to her side. the bitter scent of willowbark surrounded her; he quickly surmised that she had been carrying it, and shouldered alongside her roughly, in the event she had swallowed some small piece of the medicinal bark.

when the coughing fit had presumably passed, the leader stepped back and gave the woman a wry look. "have you been ill?"

Osprey kept coughing and gagging, when Lasher asked his question and the only thing she could do for an answer was to look up and regard him with watering eyes, as if apologizing. Finally she got rid of the offending piece of bark and spat it out. "Sorry for this," she said, "I was, but now I do not need this anymore. I thought that I should not leave it to waste and bring it back to Blue willow... but..." She studdied the slobbery pieces of the willow bark and then sighed: "It doesn't seem like anyone can use it now, can they?"

lasher hid the twitch of his lips. "let us bury it and be away." as the leader of donnelaith, the subdued nature that had surrounded osprey and dante as of late had not gone unnoticed -- the druid wondered wryly if they had become ensnared in the wondrous task of creating children. perhaps that had something to do with their lack of activity. then again, their numbers had dwindled -- only family remained. 

his heart ached for casmir.

"how have you fared, osprey?"

"Sounds like a great idea - give me a minute," Osprey replied, looked at the slobbered piece of bark thoughtfully, and grinned, when something amusing came to her mind. With few quick swipes of her paws, she made a shallow hole in the ground, picked up the bark with the tip of her teeth, put it in and drew the upturned earth over it. "Rest in peace," she said, letting her head hang low, as if she was truly mourning for the loss. When it seemed that the appropriate moment of silence had passed (it had lasted 30 seconds exactly, which is an awfully long time, if you have twenty other topics of conversation going through your head), she turned her gaze back to Lasher, answering his question: "I am fine, thank you!" She did not think she had to go in details too much. "Been a bit busy lately, but you already knew that. How are the girls?"

lasher bowed his head in faux reverence, though half a minute was rather long for a slavered-upon piece of bark. nevertheless, he held his tongue during the moment of silence, then met osprey's eyes as she turned them upon him. busy. of course she had been, and lasher was rather secretly intrigued to know if anything would come of her closeted-away days with dante, though of course this was not at all his place to inquire after.

"deirdre fears me after the incident with the she-wolf. she was there when i killed the beast. it seems to have affected her negatively." his brow furrowed. "have you any advice for me on this matter?"

"That's unfortunate," Osprey sympathised with Lasher and reached out to touch his shoulder lightly. When he asked for advice in dealing with the kid-problems, her expression was first confused, then grew thoughful. There wasn't really much she could offer - the siblings she had helped to raise at Flightless falcons had all had safe and rather uneventful childhoods, none of them becoming traumatized by an unlucky event. And looking back at all of the kids she had met here... Saena, Junior, Tytonidae... she had failed to help in fixing, what had been broken. Quite the opposite - they either resented her attempts or left without a word. 

"Give her time, perhaps? Act normal? And if that does not help, try to talk to her," that was the best she could offer.

time. "time is said to heal all wounds," taltos rejoined, returning her gesture, though his tones were mingled with both disbelief and hope. perhaps it would be true of deirdre also. though osprey had a low opinion of her advice, lasher found it helpful and trustworthy. "she has her sister emaleth, and her sister eilidh. they shall be good for one another, i think."

a smile graced his muzzle -- "have you any tales to tell? i have missed them."

"That's true, but that does not mean that they should push you out of the picture. You are one of the most important and influental people in her life," Osprey scratched behind her ear as she told this. "It will be fine - one way or another," she did not see, how it should not be. Deirdre was to meet a lot of scary things in her life and eventually this early recollection of violence would be forgotten. 

"Stories - it has been a while, hasn't it," she was happy to oblige. "Can't keep all of the good ones to Dante, can I." Ever since they had begun to share the same living quarters again, she had this ritual of telling him bed-time stories. Longer, shorter, better and not so good, but always something. "So, what do you fancy to hear today?"

lasher felt like a child immediately upon inquiring after a tale, but decided he did not care. stories were not only for little ones, he decided, as supported by osprey's revelation that she told them often to dante. "perhaps one about flowers. i am in the mood to see and hear colour," he murmured, falling into step with the grey-hued woman who had been influential in both the plateau and donnelaith.

"See and hear color... hmmm..." Osprey cast a "give me a moment" look at Lasher and stopped in her tracks. She closed her eyes and shut out the world around her. The sounds and smells died down and with one swift leap her mind had crossed the void between the reality and her mind castle, which she had shaped in a form of a forest. 

There among the tall and centuries old trees, sky with the moon and stars on one side and the sun shining on the other, she took the winding path that led right in the depths of the imaginary realm. Shapes and shadows of various creatures went past her, occasionally stopping to cast a glance at her in silent inquiry and then turning away. Not this time... she whispered quietly, focusing on finding threads for the story Lasher would later hear. Then she spotted it - a tiny thing, emitting golden light, she touched it and it exploded in myriad of various images from past and present, each one of them connected in a spiderweb of associations. 

"Well, that was fun," she told her alpha with her eyes still closed. "Pick a color and a name, please!"

that was so beautiful <3

lasher heeded osprey and there came a quiet moment in which he felt the energies of the world rise up around him! he stood bathed in the unseen haze -- he lifted his face unto it -- and presently, as osprey spoke, he reluctantly let it fall away, though he was refreshed by what had happened here. perhaps the ashen woman too, was a witch -- he thrilled to think he led a place of them!

a name. "eismitte." the man had been his lover during his time in tartok. "and the colour red."

he watched her curiously.

"Once upon a time, in the far North - where trees don't grow, where there are ice hills and snow-filled valleys, were the year is split between neverending daylight for the first half and near-darkness for the other, where hardly any living soul dares to set foot and only toughest survive... there lived spirits. Roaming free, careless and only visible on clear, cold winter nights joining in a colorful, soundless dance, having the dark sky as their background and stars and moon as their only audience. Beautiful, fleeting things, enjoying their freedom and leading their immortal lives without any worries. 

And among them lived a spirit that was no different from the others, yet... when one night the Northern wind, strong and fearless, caught it's tail and stripped it away from his brothers and sisters, he became special. In that he found a place in a story that would be told and retold in the years to come," Osprey took a pause after the lengthy intro and cast a quick glance at Lasher to see, how he had found the story so far. She felt that she was a little more detail-focused than usual and hoped that, while painting the background, she had not lost his interest. And it would not be Osprey, if she didn't want her audience to join in weaving the story. Therefore she asked, smiling and encouraging: "Can you tell, where was the spirit from the far North taken?"

osprey spoke, and lasher became fully aware of the magick she held within her -- to paint such pictures! he surely saw all of it; the clash of ice and the starry spirits dancing in the cold. lasher fell into a reverie as he pondered such things, and so deep did he fall into it that he did not immediately hear the storyteller.

"oh!" he exclaimed rather sheepishly, when he realized she had paused to ask him a question. "was he taken to the desert?" the man ventured, eyes fixed raptly upon the greyscale woman.

Osprey smiled and dipped her head wordlessly telling Lasher that his answer was a correct one. There were never wrong answers in this game.

"At first it seemed that the land was no different from the one the spirit had come from. Because it was nighttime and the dark hours of the day tend to be pretty tough in the desert. However, when the sun climbed up the sky the next morning and the heat scorched the already barren wasteland even more, the spirit realized that things were different and that it... might have a problem.

He did not give up then, firmly believing that he was not too far away from his home and siblings. Therefore he hid in the shadow of a large spikey plant and, when the night came, he began his search for a way back home. With little luck he spent the next three days at the desert, meeting no other soul, having no progress in finding his way back home. He even tried to talk to his old friends the stars and the moon, yet all they could do was to watch the spirit's growing misery and desperation, feel sympathy towards him, but not be able to help him. 

Eventually at the end of a very long day the spirit gave up and curled in a ball in the hot sand, hoping that - perhaps - by shutting the new and hostile world around him out, he would be able to return back to his home. But this was not meant to happen, because he met..." she stopped there, looking expectantly at Lasher, waiting for his contribution to the story.

at her look of expectation, lasher understood. it was a story to which he would also give; his features lit with a smile. so well she had described the plight of the lost soul, the hateful blaze of the sun, the loneliness of having no other spirits about. the earthen man was captivated; he hung upon each word, and had been waiting for more when she paused.

"a lake, placid and cool," he answered, delighted to be involved in osprey's wending and vibrant tale. he fell quiet then, as enraptured as a child might be, despite his greying muzzle and silvered hackles.

"Exactly," Osprey nodded, pausing a little in order to decide, which thread to pick up and, where should the story lead now. Though she enjoyed a good challenge, it wasn't always easy to not to end up in a... dead end.

"Have you heard about the floating lakes?" she decided to ask, recalling old tales about the creation of the world and all things within. "It's said that in ancient times the lakes flew around in the sky, looking for the perfect spot to land. And then there are lakes, who appear on one day and have disappeared in the next," she filled in a little, in case Lasher did not know about them.

"Anyway - that night the spirit met such a lake. Woken up by the sound of water gurgling, bubbling and flowing, he found out that where there had been an empty plateau during the day, there was a large area covered by water. Not believing his eyes, he drew closer, closer, until he dared to step in the water and dive underneath. 

He was stunned by, what he saw there - a world full of colorful fish and plants - so much life in comparison to the lifeless barren land above. Suddenly he heard singing... familiar voices, yet the songs were completely different. The spirit decided to find the source and, when he did..."

lasher had settled himself upon the earth to listen, stretched out upon his belly with his eyes fixed attentively upon the gravid storyteller. it seemed osprey plucked the words from the air and wove them together to create her tales! this was no rehearsed story. he saw it in the animation of her eyes, the happy smile upon her lips; had she limbs to gesture, taltos was certain she would do so.

the lakes; he shook his head, having indeed never heard of such. osprey described the plunging down of the lonely spirit into a colorful new world -- he thought of the odd beast he had seen upon the sands, and so without hesitation he answered: "he saw a jellyfish, dancing through the water and singing." surely in tales they could sing?

"A jelly-fish," Osprey repeated, furrowing her brow and wondering, what kind of creature Lasher had meant by this word. Or whether it was a completely imaginary being. At least she had neither seen, nor heard about them and the only detail that was clear, that the water world was it's home. 

Then again stories are probably not much about, what things are exactly, but, how the reader perceives and sees them. Therefore she decided not to ask for an explanation and went on with the story. Whatever details Lasher would want to see, could be added later. "It was a very beautiful thing, reminding a flower in a color of crimson red, yet it was much more extraordinary. Closer to the living beings we know than a plant.

The spirit was mesmerized by the colors, the heavenly voice and the dance. Eventually he joined in, finding solace in the song and for a moment feeling his sorrow taken away. However all things come to an end - and so did the jelly-fish. It ceased her song and began swimming away. The spirit followed her without a second thought. Deeper and deeper they went in the lake, it got darker and darker, until the spirit lost sight of his guide and was lost in the darkness.

He could feel living beings swimming by, but couldn't see any of them, until something way bigger and stronger than him, grasped him and..."

the story flowed onward; lasher was held fast, still enthralled. for with each twist of the tale came a new image to admire, a new twist to be beheld -- he fell headlong into the river imagery of what she wove. so much could be seen, and he never wished for this tale to stop. 

but pause the grey woman did again; he realized it was his turn to speak again, to lend his own words to this story, and for this he adored osprey. "an eagle, golden and fierce," he breathed, imagining the lifting-up of the spirit!

"Surely he could not see, what it looked like in the darkness, but he felt it strength and it's fierceness and was both amazed and afraid of it. He did not dare to move and another hour passed, before he saw the darkness turning into a dim gray at first and then gaining light, colors and eventually shapes and forms. 

They were in a cave made out of crystals that reflected light and shimmered in thousands of amazing colors. The eagle dropped the spirit on the floor and then settled down on a stone throne, made of obsidian - darker than midnight. It watched it's prey with merciless gaze and finally asked: "What is the spirit of the North doing in the realm of the souls?"" Osprey stopped there thinking about the direction she wanted the story to take and also pondering, where to put the Lasher's chosen word "Eismitte". 

"The spirit explained, how he had got there and how very much he craved to return home. The eagle fell silent for a long moment and then said..."

not for the first time, he thought that surely osprey must be a witch in her own right, one gifted with the pleasure and skill of storytelling. he too was carried with the hapless spirit in the eagle's talons; he felt the rush of the wind and smelled the coldness of the air, which suddenly shimmered with all manner of colours. 

and he also felt himself placed down, heard the deep roil of the eagle's voice as he spoke and then he paused. all at once it was lasher's turn to speak, to become the great avian. there were many paths that forked before him, but the druid knew which one it was he would choose. "i will take you home, spirit," lasher spoke, marvelling at his own voice, "but only if you do one thing for me. bring me a shard of crystal from the highest cloud."

""But how..." the spirit asked in confusion. "I don't have..." but he did not get to finish his sentence, because all of sudden everything around him changed and, when he finally got to finish "...wings." He found himself sitting in a mountanous area on a snowy ledge. The cold nothern wind was blowing and the only source of light in the otherwise fully dark night was the moon. 

There is a little explanation in place about the nature of spirits. Though they do not behold a body, they still have their limitations. If you are an earth spirit then you are bound to live on the Earth and you can't reach the realm of Skies. If you are a tree-spirit, then your life is bound, wherever the forests are or are going to be, you would not fare in the desert. 

This particular spirit came from the Ice fields, where winter never ends and therefore The Ice and Snow and cold was what he belonged to. Though still having no idea, how to get to the clouds, he began moving through the mountains, hoping that maybe by reaching the highest peak, he could somehow get to the shard of crystal the Eagle had requested for. 

He did get there eventually - after many days and long hours of wandering and searching - yet only to find that the sky and clouds were nowhere nearer than, when he had crawled on the Earth. So tired and disappointed he was by his failure that he began to cry. You must know that atop the highest mountain it is very, very cold. Therefore his tears turned into little ice crystals, before they hit the ground. 

And suddenly someone picked up those tiny crystal tears and threw them up in the air, the moonlight shimmered through them, casting little rainbows. The upset Spirit did not see that, however, he did lift up his head, when he heard someone speaking to him. It was one of the four wind brothers, invisible to the eye, yet his presence so keenly felt.

He said..." she gave the thread back to Lasher, feeling just as curious about the detail he was going to give as he was for the next events in the story.

"do not cry, little brother. i am the wind spirit," lasher answered promptly, warming even further to the tale. "i have heard you crying and have been with you since you came to stand before the eagle. i know what it is he wants, and i know how to help you get it." 

lasher fairly felt himself become the voice of the wind; osprey would take on the persona of the little spirit, and together they would elongate and strengthen this tale. what a mother would her little ones have indeed!