Twisted Slough tal-pasaj

for @Ulrich

---

dawnbringer.

ajaw moves through the foul-breathed, vine choked slough; covered in nightshade despite that the ahead, ajaw can see the golden sundisk.

it strains, to no avail, to reach the ground of the slough; littered with debris. dead flora ... and dead fauna trapped in it's darkmaze.

it reminds ajaw of the temples — natural caverns and tunnels carved by water so very long ago beneath tikal's claim. except, they do not trust the greedily reaching branches, the thorny spines that snag in their fur,; shallow splicing their flesh.

ajaw breaches the slough and stops to take in the warming glow of the sun as it caresses their face, reaching then to tug free from what they could reach the spiny brambles tangled in their fur.

Ulrich was in the slough again, and regretting it. This place stank of fetid, still water and decaying earth. However, it was important to patrol the surroundings areas to the Isle, especially with Adylaide pregnant and soon to give birth. He needed to make doubly sure everything was safe.

Soon, above the smell of wet and rotting, he smelled Wolf. This was the other reason he often patrolled outside of the Isle. It was the only real chance he had to recruit new members to their small pack, since canids did not often make it all the way to their home. This was good, for it meant less chance of making enemies, but it meant they had no friends, either.

It was difficult to see or smell properly in this dank place, so Ulrich called out, Hello? as he continued to search around for the wolf he could smell.

small work post!

---

a voice calls out to them, muffled by the thick of the shadows.

for a long moment ajaw focuses upon tugging another spiny thorn free, spitting out the thorn. they consider, for a moment longer still, not answering.

the voice did not strike them as familiar. not one of their holcan.

ajaw let's out a low chuff, turning to peer through the thick, choking vines in hopes of seeing a face.

sorry for the wait.

Ah, there was the face peeking out at him through the thick trees. Ulrich smiled a greeting, coming forward. Hello, he said again, though this time it was not a question. What brings you to this place? Most people avoided the slough, for obvious reasons. Ulrich looked upon the stranger, taking in his coloration, then he noticed the thorns. Are you all right? he asked, concern clear in his voice. He would offer help, but the idea of pulling thorns out of someone else's fur seemed strangely intimate.

no worries! <3

---

thorns still linger, but ajaw ignores the thorns in lieu of the stranger who takes form before them. they could pluck the rest out later.

the stranger speaks the common tongue; one that ajaw has not heard in many and more moons. at first, the words taking form are almost an ugly sound.

this one greets you. it takes them a moment before they answer, having been many moon cycles since they've spoken common tongue. their words are honeyed, thick in their accent which makes the words feel syrupy as they pass along their tongue.

a place to make this one's home. though the earthsong does not reach them here. no, if it tries, ajaw imagines it would be choked by the slough. ... this one will not be choosing this territory. a small grin tugs at their lips.

rest assured, this one is fine. to the worry of the stranger, ajaw seeks to reassure; they would not be bested by pesky thorns, though the concern from a stranger was oddly touching.

hello im the worst. so sorry.

The stranger had an odd way of speaking, but Ulrich did not mind this. It was simply something to note: the stranger was clearly not from around here.

'This one will not be choosing this territory.'

Ulrich chuckled and glanced around the Slough. No. I wouldn't, either. My home isn't far from here, though, on an isle surrounded by rivers. He bit his tongue in time to stop himself from attempting to recruit the man. He did this often and felt he should probably stop, or come across as desperate or demanding.

Trying to find a new topic of conversation, he asked, Where are you from? Your accent...

nooo. hush. you're perfectly fine. <3

---

a home nestled between two rivers.

did these wilds not have a flood season? a soft wonder that goes no further than their brief acknowledgement of it.

a question of ajaw's origins. to be expected. this one comes from a place far away, a region called río bec. though not even ajaw themselves realized that they had distant family ties to these wilds.

Rio bec, Ulrich repeated, and the words felt strange in his mouth. What is it like there--if you, ah... If you don't mind my asking, that is. Suddenly, he felt awkward. Not everyone came from a good background, and some left home for reasons other than simple wanderlust. You must forgive my curiosity. I haven't seen much of the world, and don't intend to, now that I've found a home for myself. He gave the male a small smile, thinking of the home--if it could be called that--that he had fled from, with Adylaide at his side. He hoped this one had left their home on better terms.

---

the curiosity is not unexpected: ajaw is a foreigner to these lands; strange surely in all aspects.

stranger still, surely, if the wolves of these wilds knew tikal's dynamic ... knew ajaw's true and godname.

a harsh land; wild. made of redsand, redrock and lush jungles. it is a region of warriors and conquerers. and packs either yielded and melded or they dispersed.

but ajaw suspects that truth would not be taken well.

The man's words pained Ulrich, for the description of that place reminded him of Goliad, a man who had come into his life and slipped away almost as quickly. Every once in a while, he thought of him, and wondered if he was well. Wondered if he should've gone looking when Goliad vanished. But it was far too late for that now.

Realizing he'd lost himself in thought, and probably looked terrible all of a sudden, he tried to force a smile onto his face. It sounds... fascinating, he said, faltering. Warriors and conquerers. He could get with the warrior part, but the conquerer part made him wary. He knew a bit of conquerers, had worked under such wolves for a time. He did not have any love for such types.

Well... Suddenly, he realized he had not given the man his name. Where are my manners? My name is Ulrich. Ulrich... Two-Rivers. A surname that still sounded strange on his tongue. A testament to his new home. Now he smiled at the man genuinely.

---

a soft noise lingers in ajaw's throat at the man's — ulrich, he introduces himself as shortly thereafter — words in regards to the rio bec. fascinating? perhaps. it was the only life that ajaw has ever known. it is survival.

not necessarily better than how the perceived to be godless of these wolves lived.

this one is called kuhul ajaw. they had many names in their lifetime. quetzal jaguar. the feathered serpent. kukulkaan. but ajaw is the one that they wield as both shield and weapon; for names are sacred to them.