Greatwater Lake someone’s taking over

Aw but maybe @Phox ? :o

how she missed that damned bird, belladonna. qiao scanned the skies with an augur’s hard gaze — somewhere in the firs she heard the trademark clack of three coarse caws. 

but no crow came to her aid. 

she paused under the eaves of a redwood. around her fat flakes of snow began to fall, muting a landscape that otherwise teemed with hidden life.

Phox couldn't say he was particularly excelling at the whole "dating" thing, but he sure was trying! Amalia hadn't come around, and neither had Reverie, but he assumed they were just taking their time. No sense in rushing things, he reminded himself. Besides, it wasn't like he was planning to get hitched and start popping out kids with his new wife next week. No, no. He wanted to take things much more slowly this time around. Date a few gals, figure out which one really struck his fancy, then wait until next year to start a family with her.

He wasn't used to roaming so freely away from home, but he thought it was something he could get used to, if given enough practice. The last however many months had been spent at Mereo, and before that wandering aimlessly searching for Niamh, and before that, stuck at home. Maybe it was better to have a healthy mix of being at home and visiting the nearby sights. At least for now.

When the snow began to fall faster and heavier, Phox headed toward where he knew some trees to be. It looked like it was going to be like this for awhile, and he didn't want to be traveling in it. Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised—but he most certainly was—when he found somebody had the same idea as he had.

Oh, sorry. Do you mind if I huddle under here with you for a bit? Just until it clears up a bit. She was small, red, and a lady~ Maybe this wasn't the worst way to meet date-material.

there was a man heading — no, limping — towards the redpine. qiao watched him incredulously, for he was missing a hind limb and seemed to limp on the few limbs remaining. this, she knew, was the kiss of death in winter’s jaws. unless he had a pack to support him.

he asked if he could join her. qiao examined the red needles beneath her feet and then moved, exposing a gnarled root he might take roost upon.

i can end it for you here, on this peaceful day in the snow. she spoke, examining the missing limb and contorted scars along his body. as you get older it will only get worse. your body will fail you long before your life gives out.

ever the pragmatist, qiao waited for his answer.

If this was their meet-cute, Phox was already certain it beat out any of his others. She'd literally just given him the least comfortable seat in the house and offered to assist his death. It really topped the charts.

Are you always so... cheerful? he asked, canting his head to one side. He wondered if she often gave unsolicited medical advice to complete strangers. At least she gave him a choice rather than going straight for his throat.

after withstanding weeks of akashingo’s decorum, phox’s freely given banter reminded qiao there was a whole world outside there other than her own.

he did not seem offended as far she could tell — and while her grim offer was genuine, qiao understand a rwandan no when she heard one. yes. she answered without missing a beat. how did you lose that leg? and more importantly — how are you still alive? she had seen infection take the strongest of her clade from this earth despite her every effort — how had this man beaten back the gods?

Either she was being cheeky, or she really did consider herself cheerful. Phox couldn't decide which one was the better answer, so he decided to not contemplate one way or another. At least she didn't press the matter further, and instead seemed far more interested in the ins and outs of how he was still walking (kinda) despite missing a limb.

My memory is pretty fuzzy, he replied. I left Mereo—the pack I was living in—to go visit my sister. Somewhere along the way, something happened. There was a lot of pain, a lot of... it wasn't quite water, but it looked like solid, still reflection. Like how you can see the moon on a windless night. Then food would just appear in front of me. Already dead and skinless. I remember bits and pieces after that—learning how to walk again. Then I came back basically to where I started.

It was the most he'd spoken of the events that had transpired between Mereo and Epoch, mostly because nobody had asked him as directly as this russet woman had. He definitely didn't feel bad about trauma-dumping on her, even if he should have. She'd just offered to murder him, so.

you must have done something of great significance for the suruhånu to take interest in you. qiao remarked with the air of one intrigued. his story was fantastical, but qiao was well rooted with mystica, and believed what he spoke of with earnest.

she assessed him anew: he was of athletic make, good bone, and seeming healthy stock. no taotaomona that she could see. no blackened curse exacted on his hide.

what made him so important the gods spared him?

her only justification for his miracle survival was that the fo’na must have intervened. it was not her matter in which to pry.

you are from mereo then? perhaps you can send lady ruenna my regards.

He didn't understand the word she said, but he nodded and smiled, assuming it was a good thing. It was better that way. Qiao mentioned Ruenna, and Phox stared blankly at her for a moment. She must not have known.

Ruenna isn't there anymore, Phox said plainly. She went away, and, well, she hasn't come back, as far as I know. What Phox did know was that his daughter had eyes for Germanicus. Perhaps word hadn't gotten around about that, though, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be the one to share something like that. Let the imperator do that on his own terms.

I moved to Epoch after losing my leg. Figured I wouldn't be much of a fighter for Mereo without it.

qiao received this news with a frown. ruenna went away? but she was no more able bodied than phox! she stifled the bristle of displeasure she felt towards germanicus then, to allow his sickly wife to simply go away. where did the lady ruenna go? 

phox spoke of another pack that was news to her. qiao’s lips twitched - she was grievously out of the loop. epoch? who leads that?

Phox could only shrug at the first question. There was a time when he had thought that he might have a chance with Ruenna, but that had come and gone. Germanicus had moved on, it seemed. Phox couldn't blame him. Had Ruenna even said goodbye? If she had, the Redhawk hadn't been privy to it. He couldn't even say when exactly she had left, but he thought it had been in the autumn.

Arsenio and Tamar, Phox replied, blissfully unaware of any baggage those names might bring between Akashingo and Epoch.

Say, what about you? he asked, curious to where Qiao came from.

it was greed that pressed qiao onwards, though her prim little face betrayed nothing. arsenio in epoch! ah, that is where the sly mountain-man had gone.

a most delicious revelation that did nothing to soften the curdling of qiao's heart to learn lady ruenna had gone. of this she planned to address with germanicus -- how could that stupid brute let his woman brave the wilderness? he may as well pull a fish from water and expect it to breathe!

i am from akashingo. qiao bowed in the manner of her people. i came here looking to restock my dwindling herbal supplies. there is little that grows in the winter -- but! her eyes lit up. spring is only around the corner. qiao rose stiffly, inspecting the snowfall as it slowly abated.

it is a shame about the lady ruenna. she is likely dead. qiao did not profess to have much affection for the imperator, but his woman -- ah, she had liked her. but if she returns, please give her my regards.

Everywhere he turned, another healer. Perhaps this world needed as many as they could get. It also explained her fascination with his leg, and apparently his quality of life. Phox barely stifled a nervous laugh at her comment about Ruenna. Boy howdy, talking to her was like being heaved over a mountain again and again. Maybe, in her culture, this Akashingo, death was something that was welcomed. Phox wasn't sure he could stomach that sort of thing.

And what name should I send your regards under? he asked, though he too noted the slowing snowfall. He would not keep her long.

*cackles in qiao*

spring was the death of winter: qiao looked forward for the season's turn.

a figment of something -- perhaps unease -- stole across phox's features. or, perhaps the hemet imagined it.

qiao. she smiled a smile with no warmth. a simple name she had selected herself so many seasons ago. it had served her well. now that the snow has relented, i must continue my path. you may always call for me, particularly as you find the good days lean and the hard days long. death is not to be feared, stranger. she may not know phox's name, but she knew his end in the way healers and pragmatists of the world did.

it is a final kindness. farewell, stranger.

with that the hemet ducked under the screen of snowfall and stiffly walked off into the blowing winds.

Phox found himself intrigued, at the very least. What a very, very strange creature. But perhaps she had grown up in a different place, far away from here, where such things were normal. Still, it was good to know that he had somebody to "assist" him if he ever got tired of walking around on three legs.

"Farewell, stranger." Name's Phox! he called out, but she had already disappeared into the snowfall. Phox sighed. Maybe he was destined to be alone.