Broken Antler Fen Absolute zero
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@Tambourine 

After a couple of very summer-like days with plenty of sunshine and warmth colder winds had taken over - the sky was covered in grey clouds, it either rained or snowed lightly and there were many mornings, where Wraen would wake up to see frost covering the ground. For those few early green shoots that had sprung up from the earth this unpredictable spring was going to be a challenge. The previous night she had settled in the crook of old willow tree's roots right next to little river, but by early morning she was awoken from cold water seeping through her fur and much to her surprise saw that the body of water had expanded considerably. 

This was an odd phenomenon, because snow and ice had long since melted and the floodwaters had already gone down, and, while wondering about this (and simultanously drying the drenched spot on her flank), she began walking down-stream to see, what had the reason for that been.
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His joints felt a little achy and stiff today. Tambourine started off his morning with a brisk jog, which helped ease the pains and limber his muscles. When he finished, he decided he might try to do some fishing today. He wasn't very good at it but that was sort of the point of practicing: he would get better.

He trotted toward one of the territory's many water features, a winding stream. Tambourine sought a spot where the water didn't move as much, then took a seat and bent forward to peer into the shallows for any signs of movement.
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"You do know that the last guy, who fell in love with his reflection, got cursed?" Wraen asked Tambourine, after she had spotted him sitting by the riverbend and peering pensively in the water. "And Narcissus - that's the name of the guy - became a beautiful spring flower, but I do not think that you would make much of a handsome plant," she pulled his leg in a good-natured manner, not intending to insult him the least. Had she suspected that this guy had no sense of humour, she would not have ventured in these waters, of course. 

"A rock - maybe," she told him, giving a once-over look and sitting down a short distance away from him. "Or... a tree stump? What would you like to be? That's - out of curiousity - witches and nymphs usually do not give you a chance to choose, which curse you want to have." 
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He grinned the instant her heard her voice, raising his head as Wraen waxed poetic about some dude named Narcissus. When she made a jest about how his appearance might not translate well to a plant—presumably the punishment to which she had alluded—Tambourine placed a paw over his chest.

"You wound me," he jested, placing his foot back on the ground as she ran through a brief mental catalog of inanimate objects that might suit him better. Wraen asked him if he had a preference, while noting no magical creature worth its salt would check in prior to casting a curse.

"I'd be a drop of water," Tambourine said after taking several moments to mull it as if the question were rather serious. "I've been moving along all my life, from one place to another, like a river or stream. And now I've reached my final resting place, like a calm pond, where I'll stay still until I get sucked up into the sky..." He paused after this profound declaration, frowning and laughing slightly as he admitted, "It sounded better in my head."
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"If I were you, I would stick to flowing waters," Wraen said. "As poetic as ponds and pools sound, they have a tendency to accumulate dirt and trash, they can grow stale and unsavory to be around. Tell you what - I will turn you into a rock and toss you in the bottom of a river," she suggested. "That way you can stay put in one place and you will get a constant fresh supply of news in the meanwhile. The whole world will be brought to you without you having to move an inch."

She let him contemplate this for a bit and then asked cheekily: "Okay, so - you were not planning on drowning yourself, were you? Because, if you did, I could advise you on a way better place to become fish food than this."
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He wondered if there was another meaning to Wraen's advice and subsequent offer, though he couldn't be quite sure. Tambourine loosed a light laugh, enjoying the imagery nonetheless. It didn't sound half bad, sinking to the bottom of a stream and watching the world pass him by. He almost wished it could actually happen.

Her joking mention of fish food made him think of his recent venture with Teya, which he decided to share. "Did you know I'm a pretty decent fish dispatcher? It's a nice way of saying I'm really good at punching fish in the face until they're dead." He pulled a face. "And while we're on the subject, I can't believe you never told me the rules for fancy titles here. I had to learn about it from your sister," Tambourine said, both the affronted look on his face and the scoffing tone of his voice all in good fun, which was made clear when his expression melted back into a goofy smile.
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"Punching?" Wraen raised an eyebrow. "I always thought that the thing with live fish was landing a precise bite and killing them quickly. And not get slapped in the face while doing that." 

"Fancy titles?" she had to think for a bit, what Tambourine was referring to and, even though she had a hunch that they had discussed this with Maia at some point, she did not recall specific details. Save for that crazy long title that she had come up with once. And then the other occasion, when she had created something similar for Phox as well.

"Will Fish-Puncher do?" she asked.
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He grinned at her rejoinder. "Yeah, well, this is bloodless and doesn't damage the fish in any way," Tambourine countered, "except for the part where it dies immediately."

The mention of titles legitimately seemed to throw her a bit, which Tambourine hadn't expected. It put an amused sparkle in his eye, which went out immediately at her suggestion.

"No! That's so... violent," he protested, laughing even though he was pretty seriously not on-board with that one. "I was hoping for something cool and magical, like Dragonwatcher. Guess that's already taken though," by Maia herself.

Recalling his recent meeting with the Blackthorn pair, Tambourine suddenly thought of something he wanted to ask Wraen. "Hey, could I ask you something personal?" he ventured in a gentler, more sincere tone, which gave no hint of his sudden spike in heart rate.
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"Cool and magical has to be earned first," Wraen pointed out, when Tambourine dismissed her first suggestion. "But until then you can choose between - Squeak or Buffalo," she told him. "Those names come for free and will give you additional motivation to do tasks necessary to get that cool name you so dearly wish," she grinned.

"You may ask me all you wish, but I may choose not to answer," she looked back at him in expectant silence.
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Although these new suggestions were arguably worse, at least they weren't violent. They suited him a bit better by that merit. "I'll take them both and go by Buffalo Squeak," he replied solemnly before his grin returned, along with the waving of his tail.

He stilled once more at her reply to his gentle probe. He let out a light laugh and said, "Fair." His heart still thudded a little harder than usual in his chest, though his expression betrayed nothing as he queried, "I was wondering if you're already romantically entangled with anyone." The "already" in particular likely implied his intent quite clearly, though before he asked any followups, he paused to allow Wraen room to answer (or not).
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Funny thing - usually men are those, who are oblivious to subtle questions, gentle probing and testing the waters, but in this case Wraen did not suspect anything. And, when of all of the personal things Tambourine could have asked, he came up with this, she looked at him in disbelief and almost laughed. She had lived nearly five years of life and no one had ever proposed. Now in a matter of couple of months this was the second time someone asked this. Nevertheless, she did not reply right away and took time to think through her reply. 

Arcturus came to her mind and she wondered, whether this "romantically involved" applied to him? If she was very honest with herself - no. And neither it did with Tambourine or with any other man here in the fen. That big romance everyone was supposed to have had not come to her after that one crazy crush she had had as a yearling. There had been a time, when it had bothered her - why did it seem as if love was bypassing her, but now she was at peace with herself and the fate. She did not wish to change it.

"Tambourine, before you venture anywhere further, you have to know that I am at an age, when mateship is no longer interesting," she told him with an honest smile. "Had you asked it years ago - you might have heard a different answer, now, however, my childbearing years are behind me and I do not see point in tying myself down to anyone," she said. "I will gladly be your friend, but if you want romance in your life, I suggest you set your sight elsewhere." 
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There was a deliberate pause before she replied. Tambourine braced himself, wary of it, though he was more prepared to learn she already had a suitor than for the words that actually came out of her mouth. First came mild surprise, then a sense of dejection he couldn't quite help nipping at its heels. Should he bother telling her he didn't care about having any more children? But Wraen spoke so succinctly; she surely knew her own mind. Tambourine figured it would only be a disservice to both of them trying to change it.

He nodded his acknowledgement, then smiled, though it didn't quite reach his pale eyes as his visions of a date night quickly dissolved in the face of such certainty. "Well, your candor is appreciated," he replied with a dip of his snout before thinking to add, "as is your friendship." Some small part of him still wished he could convince her otherwise, show her what he was worth, but he would respect the boundary she'd set.

He waved his tail to demonstrate his good faith, then laughed a little self-deprecatingly as he decided to share with her, "I'm not sure about romance myself. I'm going on five and I've never tied the knot." It wasn't something he particularly pictured for himself, it was just that something about Wraen had finally caught his attention in that special way. It was a bummer the feeling wasn't mutual. They were both entirely whole on their own, though a romance would've been a nice added bonus.
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Wraen felt relieved that Tambourine took rejection so well. Unlike Arcturus he did not try to argue with her or give an impression that he will wait patiently until it happened. As if that was all it took - waiting and hoping. It had already be a strain on her to have someone expect romance from her, when she did not have it all. If it had been as simple as switching it on at will, she would have done it without hesitation. Just to make that sad and desperately lost person happy. But she also knew that such a sacrifice would mean a gradual death of her. Love was about sharing, when you had enough to give with plenty left to yourself. It was not about giving up everything for the other person. At least in her worldview it was wrong.

"I doubt it is worth it - feels grand, when you have it, but like with all extremes the fall is extra painful," she said. "That's why I prefer friendship. That can last a lifetime. And I will be glad to have you as my friend. For greedy reasons too - there's stories you have to tell about the places you have been," Wraen smiled at him kindly.
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His head tilted at her words. Romance could last a lifetime too, as far as he knew. But Tambourine saw no point in persuading her of that. It wasn't like he could speak from experience. He didn't even know anyone who'd mated for life, although that did bring Eljay and Maia to mind. They were still newlyweds, though he imagined they might last a lifetime. Only time would tell, he supposed.

Tambourine didn't bring them up either, instead seizing the carrot Wraen had dangled before him. Rather, he batted at it, quipping, "What if I have amnesia and don't remember anything before I got here?" He shook his head lightly. "Always happy to tell some tales, although I'm honestly a lot more excited about the present and the future."

Date night was out, as was any daydream of building a romance with Wraen. That left Tambourine free to build a different vision for his future, which was a little bittersweet. But he absolutely wanted to do that, now that he could. What sorts of aspirations should he entertain, now that he had a proper home and family?
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Things would have gone smoother, if Tambourine had started out by asking Wraen out and not gone straight to the big questions in life. But he had chosen to reveal all his cards in one go and for the time being lady in question was not tempted by the offer. She was happy to let her deck rest on a shelf and accumulate dust. However, if we use chess as a metaphor for life - just because one pawn was lost at the beginning, did not mean that the game was over. There were 15 more pieces to play and numerous chances to get that winning combination.

"Amnesiacs are the most cliche wrenches in storytelling," Wraen told. "And you already told me that you have family members living somewhere. So - a missed opportunity to play that role," she smiled. "As fun and exciting the present and future is, your past is the deep-set roots that keep you upright and growing. So - what's the most spectacular place you've been?"
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Although Wraen didn't intend it and Tambourine himself hadn't anticipated it, something she said triggered a thought: "And you already told me that you have family members living somewhere..." He reflected on it a moment, then tucked it aside for later conjecture to focus on her question.

"Hmmm, let me think," he rejoined, feeling the faintest niggling of déjà vu. Had she asked him this same question when they'd hung out all those years ago? Tambourine couldn't quite recall, though the thought made his smile grow broader, warmer. Likely his answer wouldn't have been the same anyway, considering all the added mileage since then.

Finally, it came to him after a few moments of pondering. Clicking his tongue, Tambourine wondered, "Have you ever seen a waterfall, Wraen?"
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"Yes - we had a very grand one near Sun Mote Copse - that's, where I lived for almost two years with my pack," Wraen said readily and almost chuckled. Here she was believing that with her homebody lifestyle for the most part she wouldn't have seen half of what Tambourine had. And yet... see, what time does to you - even if you do not travel the world, you still collect experiences and notable memories. 

"But, since the grass is always greener elsewhere, I assume you are about to make me jealous for the bigger, grander and awesomer waterfall you've seen elsewhere?" she guessed with a grin.
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She described one near an old stomping ground. Pretty name, he thought when she referred to Sun Mote Copse. Tambourine smiled, glad that she'd experienced a waterfall for herself. He had to huff a laugh at her next statement.

"It'd be hard to prove whose was bigger, since we can't exactly whip them out and all," he pointed out sagely before guessing, "but I'm willing to bet yours didn't fall through a hole into a huge underground grotto, complete with a lagoon?" He arched his eyebrows, wriggling them a little and grinning.

"The best part," he continued without really waiting for an answer, "was how clear the water was. Since the hole was pretty, well, enormous, it let in a lot of light for a subterranean chamber. And the way the sun would beam down and hit that water, it was absolutely breathtaking. I could've lived down there."

Spur hadn't liked it though. She'd complained endlessly about the damp and the dark, despite the giant skylight. Tambourine's expression soured for an instant as he recollected all that, before his smile restored. He refused to let her spoil some of his dearest memories. Maybe if he tried really hard, he might even be able to erase her from them: eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.
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Had Wraen been aware of the difficult relationship Tambourine had had with his former sort-of-wife, she would have wondered, why had it taken him so long to realize that it had done him no good? Why had he stuck with her to begin with? Had it been because of a misguided impression, what a married life should be like? Had it been because he had felt lonely and attaching himself to someone/anyone had been his way of escaping it? Had it started out good and ended sour? Had there been qualities about Larkspur that he had liked, memorable experiences that they had shared? Had he seen someone broken, but worth saving and failed at that? 

All of these questions and endless wonder, because she had never been in any such relationship herself. She did not know, what it meant to fall in love with someone and to build a family on it. She did not know, what it meant to share a life with someone, to grow together, to adapt to them, to accept them, to sacrifice even. Of course, she had impressions and ideas, what it could and would be like, what she would do. She had heard stories and observed others, how they went about their lives, and yet though it was tempting to dive in and give it a try, the fear of being deliberately hurt held her back. She feared missing the red flags, she feared growing bored and tired of someone and not being able to tell them so. She feared of being abused and not realizing it. That's why she admired people, who went into this willingly and with joy, because the longer she lived and had seen more, the less she enjoyed the concept.

After all she had been on her own for such a long time that she was no longer afraid of loneliness and what it entailed. It had been the deep sea she had explored from one corner to the other. It was calm. It was consistent. It was safe. It was, where she felt in control, where it was comfortable and easy to navigate. Most importantly - it was a place, where everything depended on her only. Occasionally this responsibility was hard to bear, she mused, what it would be like to share it for a little while, but then it passed and she was happy and content again. Ironically enough for a person, who encouraged others to go out in the world and discover themselves, she was very much a homebody herself. But then... she was not a hypocrite - she had been out there, many times and had eventually found that one place, which her soul could call home.

"Not as grand as mine," Wraen remarked, when he had finished telling her. "Why didn't you stay there?" she asked. "Or were there more beautiful places yet to see and discover?"
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His tail switched and Tambourine gave a playful, "Psssh!" when Wraen promptly declared her waterfall superior. But he didn't bother arguing, instead responding to her questions by saying, "Yeah, at the time, I was never in one place for long, no matter how beautiful." And sure, Larkspur had certainly exacerbated the situation, though Tambourine of yore had also been a globetrotter in his own right.

"So how come you left Sun Mote Copse and your grand waterfall?" he wondered, curious in turn about her own travels. "Not that this place isn't great," Tambourine added, gesturing at the surrounding fen, then dropping his paw and falling silent, head canted in such a way that it made his bent ear flop over.
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"It no longer felt like a home to me," Wraen replied, wondering briefly, what else she could add to the long and winding, and detail-rich story of, how she had gone from Sun Mote Copse and ended up here. "People make places important and meaningful. Without them... it is just a place. And it doesn't matter, how beautiful the waterfall is or what spectacular views you can get from the cliffs or... I would settle for a patch of grass any time, if it meant sharing it with someone dear," she cut herself short.

"And for the time being this patch of grass is my home," she smiled.
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Her answer was so simply stated, yet Tambourine sensed its nuance. There was a story there, possibly a long one. He wouldn't mind hearing it and opened his mouth to ask her if she'd mind elaborating. He knew in his bones that Wraen was a phenomenal storyteller.

But then she said something that made his heart flutter a little, despite turning down his romantic intentions just moments before. Tambourine couldn't help the dopey grin that crossed his face as he looked down at the grass tickling their gray toes (his fewer than hers), then back up into her green eyes. She was such a lovely creature. He couldn't help but muse whether his inability to woo her made her more attractive.

He wouldn't read into it farther, though. She'd made her stance clear and Tambourine would respect it. That said, he suddenly flopped to the ground and stretched out to his full length, forelegs extended out front and hind legs in back. He let out a contented little groan as several of his joints popped audibly.

"I think I have to disagree with your earlier assessment," he said, peering up at Wraen. "Sometimes the grass is greenest right where you are." He winked, then gently batted at her, trying to coax her to join him as he proceeded to roll in the green, green grass.
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Wraen did not understand Tambourine's reference right away and only, when he plopped down in the grass to enjoy a hearty roll in it, did she realize that he had been joking. No longer a child or a reckless youngster, she did not join him in the activity, but lied down carefully a little away from him and watched his antics with an amused smile. He was a good sport and, who knew, how things would have gone, had they stuck together after meeting for the first time all those years ago. There was no way of turning the time back now. 

She spent the rest of the afternoon in Tambourine's company and, when they grew tired, shared another good green spot of grass to bask in the warm sunlight of the afternoon in April. Before she closed her eyes, she noted, how very much life is about thousands of small and simple pleasures.