Iktome Plains My friends all drive Porsches I must make amends

Thread names from the song  "Mercedes Benz" written by Janis Joplin, Bob Neuwirth and Michael McClure. @Taggak

After the friendly and very pleasant encounter with Ariadne at Moonglow's doorstep, Dwin continued her journey northwards. She wanted to see the ocean (the big water thingie) again and rumour had it that there was another moon-village located there. While making her way there through a valley and a very thick and unhospitable forest, her mind often returned to the pretty fairy-like girl she had left behind. The interest was anything but romantic on her side, rather she allowed herself the pleasure of enjoying a memory of an alluring and attractive person and letting her imagination wander along all the paths of "what if"s had the life and fate been different for either of them. It was entertaining and kept her mind busy. 

Finally, she reached the end of the tangle of a forest that had been just as unwilling to let her go as it had been unwilling to let her in. She let the wind play with her fur and closed her eyes to appreciate the cold breeze that brought a wealth of smells and scents with it. Then - feeling thirsty, she found a puddle nearby and lapped up the water. It did not taste bad, the only complaint was the sand that came along with it. 

Skirting the weald towards the plains, Taggak had been surprised to notice the trail of Dutch crisscrossing the land between the woods and the plateau along with others that smelled similar. Moonsong wolves? It was difficult to distinguish the storyteller from the many other paths, but the discovery was intriguing and put a smile on his face as the familiar salt-tinged breeze ruffled his fur.

It was then that he noticed a figure in the distance. At first glance, he thought it was Marina and bounded closer with a joyously wagging tail. Until he realised this stranger was bigger, broader, and smelled nothing like Moontide. Nevertheless, his greeting was chipper. "You're lucky it's not salt water," he grinned, tasting the liquid with his tongue once they were side by side as if to make sure.

"OOOh, you have happened to have the same experience of intestines twisting, burning and turning inside out, while your body expells all the water from you?" Dwin grinned, looking the dark-pelted newcomer up and down and deciding to sit down for the conversation. "I do not advise on trying sea-weeds either. They may do miracles for the coast-dwellers and direct descendants from mermaids, but for ground-crawlers like me they just about nearly murder you," she smiled. 

"What's you name, kid?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "I am Hag of the Forests Dwin. Depending on the mood you may leave here either blessed or cursed," she told him, feeling playful today and testing the youngster to see, what kind of fabric he was made of. 

"Once or twice," he grimaced in response to her question. The way she phrased it made him chuckle in disgust as an image he would rather not imagine came to mind. He took a seat too as she went on to list her grievances about seaweed. In his experience, the water-dwelling plant was quite tasty, if prepared the right way. "It took me a while to get used to, but seaweed is actually quite delicious," he voiced to her. 

Hag of the Forests? "I think I'll just call you Dwin," he quipped awkwardly, not quite sure what to make of her wild nickname. "I'm Matteo- Taggak. Either is fine. What kinda blessings do you give?" Okay, colour him intrigued. His tail beat a steady rhythm into the sand as he met her gaze, thinking back to the time Seal had blessed the young hunters before they took on the bison. The seal-hunter village had been very hush-hush when it came to curses so he did not want to open that can of worms just yet - if Dwin's crypticity even held some truth.

"Oy, oy, oy - not so fast, dear Taggak friend," Dwin shook her head and raised one of her paws to emphasize that the guy had to pause a bit. "I said I am a hag, not a fairy-godmother that gives blessings left and right and asks nothing in return," she explained, then furrowed her brow, briefly looked up in the sky, then back at the fellow. "Frankly speaking, I am not sure, how they operate. I ate mine, when I was in my crib and the fairy-folk have been avoiding me ever since," she said and pretended to wipe away a mock tear, when in reality she was grinning ear to ear and tail was tapping in pure amusement. 

"Plus - you do not know, what mood I am in now. For all you know, you might leave here as a frog. In the best case. In the worst, I could turn you into a stick and throw it to puppies to chew on," she told, then leaned closer and added in a conspiratorial whisper. "For all eternity!" She leaned back and watched his reaction to these news. 

His ears drooped at her rejection. In all honesty, he was a bit bummed out. Not to mention, her explanation had been confusing at the very least. What on earth was a fairy-godmother? He was about to ask for more clarification when Dwin went on to admit that she actually had no idea what she was doing. And, that she had eaten her godmother? Quizzically, he wondered what one would taste like. 

"So, you're a fake?" he came to say after her whisper with a tilt of his head. "I dunno really how they work either. The last time someone gave me a blessing, they shook a bunch of leaves above my head. But, y'know," he paused. What if she was real. What if she was a shaman? Was a hag a type of shaman? "If you're in a bad mood. I'd rather leave here a frog and not a stick."

"And you call me fake?" Dwin began to laugh. Funny ways, how people's minds worked. They were fine accepting that the some leaf-shaking above their heads and probably some chants did the miracle. But, when she had promised a solid curse instead of a blessing that she had no idea, how to give, she was suddenly declared a con-artist. Eye-roll.

"What I was saying - hags are better at cursing than giving blessings. I never stayed around long enough so that my mentor could teach me the craft," she explained. "But there's a way to avoid a hag's curse," she continued to spin the yarn. "Impress her with a story and she will consider. Maybe even give you some cryptic notions about your future," she arched an eyebrow and waited for the fellow's response. 

Her laughter drew a pout from the boy, though his annoyance at Dwin was only surface level. Moreso, it gave him something to ponder. How exactly did blessings and curses work? 

But, Taggak was starting to see the full picture, as she gave him a way to avoid being potentially turned into a stick. He was sceptical, but if Dwin was who she said she was - well, it was better to be safe than sorry. After a contemplative silence, the boy agreed with a curt nod and a mischievous grin. "So, let me get this straight. If you are really a hag, I get no curse in exchange for telling you a story, right? Well, what kinda tale are you in the mood for?" He thought of Dutch and his legends of the red desert - though he had not travelled to such a place, he sure had his own stories to tell.

"It depends. Hags are finicky things. You never know. But if the story is good or such that she has never heard of, then she might look at you favourably," Dwin gave the boy a toothy grin, but kept the banter friendly and playful. Her young companion had already earned a nice green check-mark in the list of qualities the young Blackthorn found important in people. Right next to - "Has a sense of humor". Or rather - the kind of humor that Dwin had grown up with and that helped her connect with people outside her immediate circle of family and friends. 

"But - mind you - hags are always, always, always better than Muses. Those posh girls demand your full love, attention and admiration, they squeeze you dry and then leave you on the rocks, when they grow tired of you. They have drunk a bit too much of the ambrosia and think themselves gods. That happens, when you live in the clouds and do not stand firmly on the ground as hags do," she added. "Anyway - stage and spotlight is yours - story of your choosing, please!" she told him, sat up straight and looked at him expectantly.