Chimera Fields black smoke

@Luchtaine

The weald was deserted by its inhabitants. He watched as they trickled out one by one. He grinned at the sight. The plan was simple: wait a few hours and follow their trail. It wasn't the most conventional way of going about this, after all he could just approach the leader and ask to accompany them on their journey. But Abedi was a quiet creature, one that preferred silence and solitude. Besides, this would be a fun little way of going about things.  

As the sun began to set he started to follow their trail. There should have been enough distance between them by now. The path led him into a winding field of dry grass and withered stems. Winter's early frosts had surely killed all the flora. But this world was not completely void of color; curled brown petals still had a bright red hue if you looked close enough. Abedi took notice of them and his heart leaped at the sight. These petals belonged to poppies once. And inside those flowers were a gateway to the gods. The priest began to turn over the dirt with his paws. There had to be a few seeds left somewhere, he just had to look closely...

The woods were resplendent, rich with life and thickly greened. He could have spent many moons traversing the paths within and still yearned for more. It was not unlike the man's favored Branwood with oft-gilded elms. Here there was perpetual variety; at times so much variance that the roaming one was lost among the mess of it all. He did find his way - eventually, after many hours of being lost. His patience was tremendously thin and the hunt he had been on long ago spoiled (which made him all the more irate), but the way became clear.

Soon there came a silvering to the light. It spread between the moss-hewn branches of the woodlot, offering a glimpse at freedom. The man did not dally. In following that sombre glow he emerged abruptly and was thus faced with an entirely different vista: what looked to be an ornate carpet of many colors, strands, and shoots. As flustered as the norn had become during this stint, he could not help but slow to a steady prowl and take in his surroundings. Of course he scrutinizes them at first - as he might the hillocks south of home - but before long he is calm again and back at work.

There is no sign of his vangard here. There is a dark shape in the distance of which he takes note, but the narrow conformation and shade of pelt is not familiar. He does not so much choose to investigate what the other is doing so much as dawdle nearby, as there is nothing he can find of value besides their busy silhouette. As the roamer confidently broaches that gap he makes himself known with a low bellow. His voice is crisp but heavy with foreign brogue.

"Hail!" Called the man at a stand-still. The beast he had found was igam-ogam with their head bowed upon the green, which the roamer had not noticed until now. He thought immediately of gwas and for a spell, looked akin to a draft horse pulled in reverse by eager reins.

This was a fool's errand. The fruits and riches of the flowers must have been long gone by now along with the flora's colors. Yes surely they were deep beneath the earth, only to spring back up when summer's warmth arrived again. That day was far gone now. The seeds must have turned to dust. Still, life was full of surprises. Perhaps if he were to dig a few inches deeper he would strike gold.

Abedi's quest would have to wait. Someone called out to him. A dark ear twitched and he slowly raised his head to meet the stranger's gaze. Such a well built man, fit for adventure and travel. It wasn't anything like the priest's slender form. Somedays he would envy a warrior's body. They were so brutish, no doubt they used their strength to obtain their desires. Smaller folk like him couldn't do that. They used their brain and their tongue to get what they wanted.

Good evening good sir. The drawn out silence was broken false warmth. What brings you to these lands?

Should the stranger be in any way affiliated with the sordid brigands he sought, the roamer was confident that signs would be clear. It was this flash of intense focus that held Luchtaine at a distance. He knew firstly that this was not a member of his vanguard (as no gwas of such rich tarry complexion would ever have been utilized in professional, just, nor proper war) and so to the second possibility - that this be some hellion aligned with the warriors who had terrorized his people, or stolen away the crown prince. This also did not appear correct. Lest it be a ploy, this rooting among the green? A trick to put the pursuer off-balance.

Lastly, with some unease lingering in perpetuity, their voice did not hold the same familiar rough edge or the foul aura one would expect. They were warm cordial and surprisingly inviting, all of which made the templar hesitant. If he were to be the target of attack, this was the prime moment for it. Yet there came nothing. A brisk gasp of early winter air to chill the expanse between the two stagnant bodies but nothing more.

His scrutiny was not warranted. All of this - doubt, weighing of possibilities, conclusions - occurred rapidly while the stranger was speaking. The roamer would not feel guilty for his assumptions regardless of the outcome; having been made the esteemed captain of the lord's teulu through hard and time-consuming dedication. His men were gone from his side but his duty remained, his quest all that gave him life.

Which made Luchtaine wonder as well, what good could come of sharing the truth?

I was huntin' some evil-doers, aye, but then the world went mad an' here I am. He chose to be blunt, to speak candidly before the wraith. Even if this creature served a maligned lord, Lu was certain he could handle the fallout. Without his vanguard he was but one body - but a determined one who knew how to push his own limits. Perhaps this darkling knew of his plight? Their differences were stark however, and the roamer did not let such hopes rise within.

Alas, he gave in to that doubt and focused upon the green which held the stranger's attention. What draws yer eye there, hm?

Such a quest striked fear into the shadows heart. It's something he'd hate to admit nor show, so he hides his dread (it's what he does best after all). But behind that soft gaze was an ongoing conflict in his head. The gods knew of his longing for his brother's blood. Why else would they have sent the hunter his way? But this just wasn't right! It would've been just to slay him in the confines of his home. He was a danger to his people and he was well aware of that. That is why he left all he knew to roam this harsh land on his own. Was that not punishment enough?

What draws yer eye there, hm? Right. Yes, the seeds! Abedi glanced over the dirt and looked back to his company. Herbs. Seeds to be more exact. It's a challenge though, they're probably out of my reach by now.

Any of his doubts washed out of him after the stranger spoke. They talked of seeds. What sort of creature went hunting for seeds at this time of the year? Everything was either dying from the growing cold or hibernating for spring. Lu was no seer. Those that he knew of were often hunting for similar vittles. The rare encounters he had with the resident Sage of his home territory had not left much of a mark on Luchtaine. He did have some fondness for the old man, and this sense of understanding is what put his doubts to rest. No, this creature was not one of his own kind. They were not suitable as a gwas either (should the roamer ever re-encounter his vanguard and make it home again).

Aye! Doubtful to be findin' anything now-a-days, what with the frosts. Luchtaine commented. He began to close the distance between the two of them next. The easy swagger of his gait belied a friendliness that wasn't present earlier. The closer he got the more his tail began to sway, like a pendulum, until he was searching the green areas beyond where the dark beast stood - helping, or appearing to help. The roamer had no real way of knowing how strong the cold days would get but he assumed it would be the same here as it was on his island home - shortening days and deep, intensely cold nights.

It was easy to presume things as well. Chiefly that his vanguard had not come this way. The wolf smelled of others (he noticed as he was closer) but none of the scents were familiar. None carried the weight of the sea or the mark of the king's guard, which was disheartening. To some degree Luchtaine was pleased in this discovery. He could double-back along his route and choose a different avenue to hunt for them - or for the brigands and their victim.