Turmeric wondered if he would see Inkeri here.
He was close enough to her home, wasn’t he? The delight in her eyes had not left him since he’d seen them glow before the ocean waves. Her gentle face stole his thoughts by day and night, and he longed for the feeling she brought when she was near him. Friendship. Love. Joy.
These things radiated through him and filled his throat with a happy hum, and touched his step with a blissful skip — even as he scouted for herbs! He really should have been thinking about where he was putting his paws as he dig near the roots of an ancient cedar, but instead, he was mostly thinking about her, and when he would go to Kvarsheim to see her again.
@Eshe some mushy Turmeric for you xD
I love him.
Eshe had hidden her stash of herbs before she searched for some more. She was getting greedy—and she was aware of it—but she couldn't stop herself. She was the kid in the candy store who temporarily forewent the logic of the eventual consequences of their actions.
Tumeric's sweet hum caught her attention when she was within earshot, and she re-directed herself so that she could find him. When she saw him, he crouched and dug in front of a cedar tree.
She cleared her throat before speaking, hoping to quell any shock she might cause. "You have quite a lovely voice," she praised. Although she wasn't sure how he'd respond, she was optimistic it'd be positive. After all —who could be mad about getting a compliment?
Somebody with a stick where the sun didn't shine; Eshe didn't associate herself with such individuals.
<333
Someone’s voice rose behind him and Turmeric sighed, dreamlike in his lovestruck stupor.
Oh, my voice is nothing, really,
not next to the one he was singing of. It didn’t matter he didn’t recognize the speaker from a hole in the ground. He was too lost in the bright heights of one spring day by the seaside to really think much about that.
It’s the subject of a song that makes the singing pretty,
he continued on, and he turned to face the stranger now, whose warm brown eyes were framed by a similar shadow as the ones that graced Inkeri’s,
without something -
or someone -
lovely to sing about, music isn’t much else but noise, isn’t it?
"It’s the subject of a song that makes the singing pretty," Tumeric said. "Without something lovely to sing about, music isn’t much else but noise, isn’t it?"
Eshe had never thought of it that way.
She mulled over it momentarily, appreciating how the statement scratched an itch in her brain that she had never thought about before. "I've never considered the song’s inspiration when it comes to one's singing voice—but I also have to acknowledge that one's genetics play into it, too." She looked almost apologetic as she fell silent—her ears falling back and smiling meagerly—but she had yet to find a way to quell her word vomit when it came up.
Quickly, she sought to redirect the conversation.
"You must be thinking of something quite lovely then." Or someone—she considered, knowing the lovestruck notes all too well.
Turmeric chuckled at the stranger’s sentiment and nodded his head. Of course!
he agreed, A voice can be pretty from good blood alone, but if you have a pretty voice and you only use it to sing about ugly things, well, it’s like when you meet a wolf who on the outside is the fairest of all, but inside, turn out to be a foul thing,
he grinned, sheepish himself to be rambling so much, Suddenly they aren’t so pretty anymore.
Oh! But the one I think of is fairest of all, inside and out,
he swooned on, and turned back to rooting up the plant to direct his energy somewhere useful. I was thinking of going to see her again, but…
he sighed, and his ears splayed a little to the sides, I don’t know, I worry that maybe she doesn’t think the same way about me.
"I couldn't have said it better myself," she agreed.
Eshe didn't know how old Tumeric was. What she did understand was that he was wise beyond his years, and there was an openness and acceptance of his perspective that she admired. Although they hadn't talked long, she was confident in her deductions.
When he confirmed her former suspicions, she smiled knowingly and nodded. She could relate to his situation—more so than she wanted to admit to herself. "That's a hard situation to be in," she sympathized.
"Tell me about her—maybe I can help you sort this out."