The Tangle cling to his chest, home to his heart full of pride

@Cerulean for a spree? if this location isn't okay, let me know!

It is almost as if a fever had gripped him.

He wanders the territories that are near enough for the rise to be concerned with. He prowls for those alone and hopes that he might pick them up, take them with him and bolster the numbers in their ranks.

Instead he meets failure — and it stings.

Today there is no goal but to be away, to see things and hope that they are not so grim like they appear to be.

this works great! thanks for starting.

failure clung to cerulean like a ghost, taunting her. she doesn't know why she can't let moonglow go.  she is pulled from the spiral of her wallowing as it morphs into anger.  the landscape seems to be a manifestation of her mind, sharp and wretched. 

she pauses to scent, and she would be glad for it.  she could scarcely make out his shape from the thick vegetation that surrounded them, but she let out a chuff to draw the man's attention.

And he can hardly spot her.

Her colors earthy and sandy, punctuated by a tiredness in her tiny form. Eyes of the waters. He only found her from her sound — and yet now that he finds her his eyes felt reluctant to remove from her.

A rude thing, he reminds himself, especially when he was not here to pluck lurkers for Avi's fight.

His red eyes fluttered to the air around her, as if that was what had spoken to him.

Are you lost? A genuine question, he was aware that the tangle was indeed an easy place to lose ones self.

she notices him looking.

it is mostly men who look.  she does not understand why.  ramesses.  alduin.  this man.  her stare is broken by a slow blink, and when her eyes are open again he is looking at the space she never grew to fill.

his question breaks through the relative quiet of the thicket that surrounded them.  the density dampened his voice, caused it not to carry as far as it might have in the open.  no, she replies.  thank you for asking.  she always had a knack for finding her way home.  she had never been lost, so she felt she had no reason to worry.

(one day, when she experienced that all consuming fear, she might remember the naivete in this moment)

are you from around here?

She is kind. She is well spoken.

Almost a disjointing sort of reaction, used to the blunt directness of the Rise and the strangers he had encountered.

Back there, He gestured behind him even if it was of no use in a place this dense. The Rise on the edge. Grunted a bit more informatively, if she ever might find her way through this enough to see the slopes of it.

Are you?

there was no hope of her seeing the rise's magnificent shadow from where she stood.  but her curiosity had been piqued.  she makes note of this place, adjusts the mental map she has of the area.  back there, she echoes, offering him a faint smile.  with the druids, on the islands of the coast.

she takes a moment to traverse the spiny distance between them.  my name is marina.  who are you?

Druids on an island.

He briefly thought of home, of his mother and siblings. Nothing that mattered now but it certainly disarmed him some. Softened him to her momentarily.

She is smaller when closer, somehow, and now his eyes do settle onto her. Not with how they did earlier. It was almost as if he could see her in a different light now.

A druid — or perhaps she did just live with them.

I am Prophet. Berserkr of Redtail Rise, leader of the fight.

And although he is speaking of himself, his curiosity is still heavily focused on her.

Marina.

prophet.  his name strikes her.  it suited him.  the pale marking on his face looked ceremonial to her now.  the word that followed she did not know, but she understood through his explanation.

she was not much of a fighter.  but she admired them.  she often wished to carry the brute force a man his size might have.  then, she might have had to compromise less of herself to protect those she loved.

it is good to meet you, prophet.  her eyes are drawn against her will to the grey streak across his nose, before she remembered her manners.  what brings you out here?  surely, there must have been somewhere more welcoming he could've spent his time.

And you,

He can be polite, he convinces himself. Politics are not his position (more suited for Avi, or even Tulimaq, he thinks) but he is not an utter savage.

I sought a glimpse of places away from home. Scouting, I suppose. A soft roll of his shoulders. Although she had disarmed him some, he cannot find it in himself to give everything away. To speak of the death of one of his own, to show fear in shrinking numbers.

She cannot know of these things. At least not yet, he thinks.

I don't know anything of any islands... An invitation for her to tell him more, if she so wishes.

i'm goin on lunch, be back in 30

i understand.  she had come for an escape.  was that not what scouting was?  there are nicer places than this, she says.  there is a pack to the north.  but over there, she motions to the west, there is plenty to see.

there are three of them, she informs him, they're beautiful.  but some of them have places as treacherous as this. 

mostly, we keep to ourselves.

worked out perfectly for my own break!

His gaze follows where she gestures.

The pack north.

The sights west.

He once more finds himself further entranced by the words she speaks. A collection of islands. Seemingly as different as the mainland. There is some desire to see this place, to see more of what they have. But once more he finds himself out of his realm. Diplomacy and sight seeing wasn't his job.

You are a druid, though? Splitting off from the islands to sight see?

omg i missed yr reply!! sry for wait

not to sight see, she says.  she had not intended to come here for business purposes, but she was unwilling to admit the more personal, petulant feelings that gnawed at and clutched her. 

he had done nothing to deserve the burden of hearing them. 

to bring back knowledge.  our mission is to help others, to provide aid.  without someone seeking information from the mainland, we would have no other way of obtaining local insight, or finding new recruits.  her job was to perceive.  this she had already fulfilled.  the man interested her more.

have you fought and trained all your life?

He wonders, despite his hesitancy on dipping toes into relations, if this collection of druids might have aid for the Rise.

Yet his ego refuses to bring it up or dare even think about it longer than those few seconds. Surely the others would have the same feelings. Wouldn't they? Or was his ego something that hindered them?

All of it, He grunted in response, a small motion for her to follow him through the tangle if she cared to. He'd grow fidgety if he stood too long here.

Do you have any knowledge of battle? Do you have fighters among your druids?

she moved to follow him, finding it easy enough to slip between the woven vines and sharp features.  she supposed everything had a purpose, and for once she was grateful for her stature.

she could not imagine what it must have been like, to have trained for something since birth.  her sisters had been brought up the same way with their medicinal training.  cerulean had no such skills to speak of. 

i don't, she admits.  but we are well protected. our berserkr, we call him the keeper.  his soldiers are called thaumaturges.  she pauses.  what is it like at redtail rise?

A keeper with his...well, Prophet cannot even imagine how the word would roll off of his own tongue.

It is simple, it is orderly. The hints of fondness bled into his voice for the moment. There is a hunt leader, a fight leader — but most important is our leader of all. He is uncertain if this is what she wishes to hear about, but it spills forth from him all the same. As important as anything else in the rise.

We have no...frills, I suppose. We value and thrive in the core basics to take care of our own.

i'm down to spree this out sometime if you catch me online!  terribly sorry for the wait.

she is envious of him.  the simplicity of where he lives entices her.  everything she had known was chaos.  she had hoped to change that, living with the druids, but she hadn't spent enough time there to know whether or not it was futile. 

his last sentence draws forth a hum from her chest.  we are the same, then.  they just had different means to the same end.  but we certainly do have more frills, she laughs.

think of it this way.  we have soldiers, yes, but we also think that the acquisition of information is pivotal in taking care of our own.  on an island isolated from the rest of the world, how else could they know if war or famine were on their doorstep?

Perhaps it was cruel to find...humor in the concept. A collection of druids who wished for knowledge, tucked away on a deserted island guarded by soldiers. He did not understand it, but he was still intrigued by it.

What knowledge have you come seeking today, Marina? Or have you already found it?

i came with no expectations, she admits. but this journey had been profitable even before she had met the man from redtail rise.  it was good to explore these territories, get them mapped out in her mind.  but i have found many points of interest.  the gnarled and tangled branches around them, the knowledge of another pack, and prophet himself. and you?  has the view away from home been adequate?

He laughed, a warm sound thrumming from the depths of his chest.

The views have been...adequate, yes. The tangles were not much to view. Even the charred remains of part of the rise felt like more of a view. Ah, but he had seen...nice things — but knew better than to be some sort of barbarian voicing such.

You should brave the taiga, sometime. The views are better there.

An invitation, if she so wished for it.

she liked that he could make him laugh, but she didn't quite understand why.  she liked the tangle and its web of shadows and vines.  it was claustrophobic, womblike, a comfort.  i will be sure to.  after her trek to akashingo, the distance would seem like nothing.  i will call for you at your border's edge. 

the greenery broke to reveal a river, and she knew that behind it were her islands.  you are welcome to find me on the beach.

She would call for him.

His pride swelled, if only to know that somebody would come to the rise and make summons for him. He had come far from the boy who departed home.

Should I call for you?

if you find me, you are welcome to.  and she found his company to be mild and pleasant.  he withheld the intensity that others had pointed towards her as of late, and she found relief in it.  i will be on my way.  it was nice to meet you, prophet.

closing up! would love something new with them sometime <3

Warmth in his chest.

As pleasant as it was jarring.

And you as well, He offered back, finding it in himself to settle back into his more neutral self. It was time to return home.