Wolf RPG

Claire had followed the waters North and took a turn to the NorthEast. That is how she came upon the Heron Lake Plateau. As the name suggested various birds rested and nested near the water. They called to one another. At times it sounded like a harmonious orchestra with each bird acting as a separate instrument. But at other times it sounded like the warm-up routine of a middle school band. The sounds and hilarity made Clarie laugh.

Getting away from the noise she moved away from the water and to the end of the plateau on the Eastside. There she overlooked Cricket Creek Bog and the Golden Glade, although she knew neither of them by name. The wind was pointed towards her favor and as she overlooked the Hinterlands a current of wind rose up. At first, she backed away, spooked by the sudden change in current. Then she leaned into it as it lifted her cheeks into a smile. "Hello Tuktu Hinterlands!" she called out from the plateau, not loud enough to be considered a howl, but surely those in the near area wouldn't miss it.

Turmeric had lingered in the area after his experimentation with the rocks at Mount Everfall. This corner of the Wilds felt far safer to him than Redsand Canyon. Nothing terrible, after all, had ever happened here. Thoughts of mum remained ever-present, and his recent encounter with Alduin brought along the unwanted yet coveted hope that Mulberry and Thyme might still be alive.

He would return to the Canyon soon, he decided, as much as the thought made him want to throw up.

Today, however, he attended to the strange folk of the Hinterlands, for as he found himself along the base of the Plateau, a cheerful voice soared downwards and over him! Turmeric smiled and quirked his brow, and peered upwards at the cloud striped sky. He couldn't make out who'd made the greeting, but he was in high spirits and so he lifted his head to call back in a sing-song rhyme, "Hello Plateau!"

'Hello Plateau' It ross up with the wind. She hadn't expected a response but after hearing one she was happy to have.  Audibly a laugh escaped from her chest. It was funny to think for a moment that the lands were responding to her. But the logical answer was also a fun one. Someone below was willing to entertain her spirit and returned her energy and more. She couldn't be sure but the tone was lower. Melodic and musical. She assumed her duet partner was a male and crouched down at the plateau's edge to look down below. With such a colorful background it was difficult to pinpoint its source. "How do you do?" she sang back. "Isn't it a shame I can't see you?"

The plateau laughed and a wider smile broke over Turmeric's face. The foliage indeed was much too colourful to see beyond the up and up, and the sky, much too bright. He scanned the cliff for any shadows that cut against the sky. Eyes narrowed to shield his eyes from the sun. Her voice carried back down to him, singing back her words. All he could really do, he thought, was to add to her refrain,

"It'd be more a shame if you couldn't hear," he rallied back with an upbeat and cheeky lilt, "we learn more through ears than through the clearest of seers. And if you're gutsy to ask, I've got a lot I could tell."

Her melody returned with a message not filled with haste. Whereas Claire may have been eager to lay eyes on her duet partner he clung to their conversation at hand. It gave her pause to think and stay in the present, rather than rush towards the future of their potential future meeting. She took a breath and hummed a moment waiting for the lyrics to come to her. "Your words paint a picture that only mind's eye can see. One I imagine belongs to a kind being. With a soul filled with stories untold. Ones I'd like to hear if I may be so bold." Their words were like riddles or little notes passed between young children.

He inclined his ear in patient waiting. Some moments passed, and then he heard her voice again. Willing to play along, and Turmeric willingly played along back. After so many months filled with sadness and fear, he actually felt happy, and he was wont to let that feeling go.

"I'm happy to share all my stories galore," he offered back, "buuut it's yours to decide if their real or folklore. If I'm a saint or a sinner," a boyish laugh - he thought himself quite clever, "that's yours to find out. Now tell me, sweet stranger, what tale shall I spout?"

It's not every day that you meet a stranger off the end of a cliff singing to you like Eugene calling up to Repunzel. It felt individual and unique. As though, even though she had never met this man before and knew nothing of his habits, she was the only one to hear his song. The ball was placed in her court. To plant the seed and see what took root. "Sprout me a tale of your first flower. For I have arrived by chance and saunter. Would you compel me to take root and grow? Or continue as a dandelion following where the wind should blow? What events have brought you to me? What do you wish you were taught to bring you glee?" She wanted to know more of this man and the area he found himself in. Having only arrived a short time ago she had only seen the beauty within the Wilds as she often saw in others, but like others, the world and lands could be tricky without property navigation and guidance.

She came at him with questions much deeper than he'd expected, and in this, he was reminded that he was still a boy, and she, a woman, despite the youth in her voice. But still, he felt compelled by her and drawn to her. So what if the odds stacked against him? He'd faced larger ones in life than this, and he thought that perhaps, away from his brothers and men more imposing, even he could impress her.

He answered, "I was born in the springtime, in the heart of a maze, and travelled in summer to a canyon ablaze. But I’ve hardly had time to take root of my own, driven from hearth and driven from home. How can I say where a flower should settle? Where she should plant, and give growth to new petals? And how can I say just what brought you to me? But this do I know, you have made me happy," a pause, "and maybe this is teaching enough."

A bright beginning then confusion to fire. A feeling of inadequacy with no clear answer. These are the things and emotions that came to hear as she listened to his song. Perhaps she had gotten carried away, but how could she not when many would say she was enacting a fantasy or fairytale. A part of her felt guilty, as though her question had forced him into an answer and place he didn't want to be in. But to hear that she was making him happy brought a smile to her face and sway to her tail. "Your life sounds rough, one you've been forced to adorn. But I envision you like a rose with thorns. For I am a lover of life that has never truly lived. Stuck in a stagnant pond free of ripples... I fled." It seemed selfish at times to have left home purely because of the thought that unearned ease was unjust. Nothing eventful had happened in her life and although she hoped for the best she too, in some way, welcomed a world that was not. "... know too that our encounter fills me with that which opposes dread."