Now that they had decided mountain climbing was not impractical, Lio had found themselves attracted to high lands. Places where they could see the landscape from above. So that was where they were drawn now - a sharper incline of land, stretching up into the clouds.
Perhaps their family back home might disapprove of this decision. After all, they hadn't had much food recently at all, and burning extra fat before winter was a foolish decision, but... Lio wanted to see the clouds. Wanted to touch them and know what they felt like. Maybe they'd be soft and fluffy! That was what they had always expected them to feel like, when they would watch them in the sky.
They would circle the structure, sniffing at the base and searching for what might be the easiest way up.
"sir dalloway, sir dalloway,
with his legs run short
and his eyes astray,
did see a lady down the mountain-way
thought he would woo her,
pour his heart out to her,
so the lord came calling from his garden, gay
to the streets, he ran
heart and soul in hand,
set his sights on the form of a-nother man..."
...
his voice carries from end to end, echoing almost eerily off the high-rises -- the swell and tenor of a youthful tune dancing jauntingly through the mountains. ravinger often explores new locations in order to spark his muse. he finds that the more situations he puts himself in, the more places he visits, the more likely he is to compose newer, better songs. today is no different, though he borrows the story from time with a prior mentor. the bard continues to hum the song, hardly looking away from his surroundings until a flash of white catches his attention.
"white as snow," he sings the words as though testing them as potential lyrics.
"ash-grey, snow-pale..." these are sung less certainly while his eyes seem to wander thoughtfully.
"no, no. that won't do." ravinger huffs and shakes his head to rid his face of its pensive stance. whatever ideas he'd previously housed, they look to have scattered now.
"ah, well. that's how it goes," a pause, and he at last regards the wolf he'd spotted.
"up here all alone, are you?"
They'd climbed a few meters up the structure before they heard it. It was rare that Lio felt... unsettled. Most things could be explained, reasoned through. But the way these words were spoken - with a specific rhythm and syllables drawn out - was not something they had experienced before.
Vaguely, they wished Knox were there. Maybe he could explain the speech patterns.
Rosy eyes traveled down a bit, to where the large form of a wolf stood. White as snow, ash-gray, snow-pale. Were they talking about Lio? Brows knitted together as they were addressed directly, and they tilted their head to the side.
"Yes, I am," they responded honestly, planting their paws so they could turn to face the other directly. "Are you the one who was making those noises? The... words. They were spoken differently." It was asked at the risk of seeming stupid, but they asked it nonetheless. Lio had never shied away from gaining knowledge, no matter how embarrassing it might make them feel to not understand things that may seem basic to others.
completely unaware of any discomfort he's caused this stranger, he looks rather pleased to have found an unwitting audience. a charming smile flings itself onto his features with the speed of a slingshot, and suddenly he's cocking his head in that haughty way he does. whoever this wolf is, they're young; that much he knows. he can't very well, in good conscience, leave them up here by themselves. yearlings are so cheeky! they may put themselves in harm's way.
"yes, that would be me," he offers a mock bow, laying heavy on theatrics. "i am bard by trade. i compose and sing songs. i suppose that's what you mean by 'different,'" his tone is nonjudgmental; despite his ego, he's never been one to ridicule others, particularly youths. "i was singing. have you ever tried it?" at this question, he tries to leap onto higher ground. it's clumsy at best, and he doesn't look 'cool' doing it. that doesn't stop him from faking it, though. as soon as he lands, he strikes a pose as if he'd meant to do whatever he just did all along.
"i'm ravinger, by the way -- grandson of a king, but who's asking?" insert winning smile here.
This male was... something. Lio had never experienced anything like him before - so bold and bright and brimming with personality and emotion and song, apparently. Like a bird. It all left Lio's head spinning in circles, their maw slightly open and eyes round as they watched this... beaming sunshine of a boy speak to them.
"I have..." they began, dumbfounded and trying to collect their thoughts. "I have never sung a song before. Like a... bird...?" Hesitancy was visible in every word and expression. Their eyes rounded again when he leapt up awkwardly, and for a moment they thought he would fall. Lio started forward, fully intending to help him up or fall off the mountain trying. But the tall wolf made it up, and they paused, blinking owlishly up at him.
A little awestruck, if they were being honest.
There was a slight pause before they could respond to his next statement. It was so difficult to keep up. "I did not ask, but my name is Lio," they stated simply, confused as to why he thought they had asked him what his name was. This was all so... strange, but they found that they actually enjoyed watching him. "Grandson of a king... are you a prince, then?" A bard, he'd said? Lio had no idea what that could mean.
"i mean, sure, birds sing, but we don't speak their language, so to us, it just sounds like a bunch of notes, y'know?" ravinger pauses to consider what he's just said. "but that doesn't make it any less of a song, though, you're right on that one." he considers all the creatures he's heard sing and all the wolves he's heard sing in different languages. just because it isn't in common doesn't mean it's any less of a song or masterpiece. "in a way," he begins to speak again, preparing himself to say something so magnificent that he's going to pass off as his own wisdom (but it's stolen). "music is the universal language, honeybee." he gives lio a look like he's just bestowed a great philosophical truth upon them.
"nice name. i like it! very unique," he replies cheerily from his perch. ravinger's now slid down to lying position, clearly unthreatened by this yearling. "a prince in every way but a title. sadly, the powers that be decided my cousins would fare better than i. they're not wrong. i'm not built to lead a country. i'd rather sing to it." that sleazy grin on his face never falters.
"say, you said you've never sung. why don't we give it a go? i'll teach you."
A small smile spread across Lio's features at the stranger's explanation. Birdsong was lovely, and this man was so good with words. Music was the universal language. It might have been stolen wisdom, but for Lio, it was actually quite lifechanging. This Ravinger character was blowing Lio's mind.
"I like your name, too," they responded honestly, a confused frown settled on their maw as they thought over the function of wolves in power. "I... do not thing that I would be very good at leading a country, either," Lio reasoned. Perhaps they would rather sing to it, too.
They paused for a few seconds, pondering it over. "What do I sing about?" they asked, tipping their head to the side.