Gyrfalcon's Keep hippie sabotage

It's an amazing supermoon IRL tonight - so why not enjoy IC too?

Gryfalcon’s Keep was the location that best suited Olive’s needs. It was low-lying and unassuming next to the might of the Sunspire to the east, but thrust upwards [higher than the surrounding lands]. The rock was expansive and sturdy… something solid to sit heavy upon for many hours of the night. It was perfect, and close to Teaghlaigh too. Olive had yearned for this night, having had several large life experiences recently: one was joining her new family. The other was looking into the eyes of Dakarai and seeing her very soul reflected back. Love was exhilarating, yet exhausting. Yet mostly exhilarating. 

 And so she sat, hips planted firmly on the ground and head in the sky, awaiting the full moon. 

After it came, the full moon hung large and heavy in the swathes of heaven. The seraph knew the moon loved to be cradled in this part of the sky; she knew this by the energy she felt. It fell unto her in wave and whichever moonbeams missed her ricocheted back from the earth, bathing her completely. Utterly. It gave her a sensation of gentleness. She felt supported even as her physical body melted into itself and quickly evaporate upwards, upwards, ever upwards - reaching towards creation until she was one with it. The woman was everything and nothing at the same time; in complete balance, the turbulent planets lit her way.

It was strange watching the full moon alone. As such, her lifelong [but now solo] celebration lost a sense of vigor. Olive truly missed her birth family [the ones who painted her every belief upon the inside of her mind]. Experiencing this cosmic event would always be powerful...but it was truly otherworldly when received with others. It would never be diminished by being shared.  Olive tipped her head back and let her voice sing across the coast, not to call wolves forth but rather to broadcast the celestial phenomenon’s magic to the world.

A day, when you had met and had a chance to spend time in company of a beautiful girl, was a good day - this Birk thought, when he left the Glacier, still thinking about the dazzling Snow Princess and how potent her magic on him was. Don't get him wrong - there was no such thing as love from the first sight in his case - rather... he was weak, when it came to good-looking girls (and being a very kind soul, any woman, who looked better than his wretched aunt Bestla, was considered a beauty) and he enjoyed lavishing them in praises and nice nonesenses, in order to get in their good books. 

And this day happened to be twice as great, because right after the moon had risen and shown it's big, round and shiny self off against the night-sky, he came accross another young lady. "God, help me..." he muttered to himself, as he made his way towards the singing siren and, when he was in a polite distance, sat down to listen with awe-stricken expression.

:D !!

 
In her intuitive and alert state, Olive was ever-perceptive of vibrational [atomic] changes in her ethereal setting. Here on earth or above swathed in stars, it mattered not to Olive. They were all intimately connected in the eternal cosmic oneness, after all.  But the atmosphere surrounding Olive palpably changed in the way that could only harken the arrival a fellow wolf. Unperturbed by the new presence [as she had longed for someone to indulge in the full moon with her], Olive continued to sing her sonnet and rounded it out with a long, smoky note. Then, she smoothly returned to her physical body.

Olive arced her slender neck to view the individual, her new friend. Olive often vacillated between her preference for solitude and community [she wrote it off as seeking ‘balance’], but Olive always appreciated meeting a new cohorts and hearing their story. It added their experiences to the collective consciousness of the world.  This particular wolf was a male, but was sitting quite a distance away from her and the darkness afforded him an intriguing sense of anonymity.  He acted as more of an audience than a potential friend.

Olive hoisted herself from the ground and sulk towards the brute. Her ears topped the crown of her head in an amicable greeting.  “Thank you for joining me,” the greyscale fae uttered sincerely, dipping her head in a low bow. Ever since the white specter, Eden, had caught her in the midst of a full-moon celebration and refused to partake in her festivities, Olive made the purposeful decision to tone it down for unfamiliar wolves. It was often difficult for unawakened strangers to revel in the power of the heavens [until she knew them and they understood how they operated].

"That was an exquisitively lovely song there," Birk replied and dipped his muzzle politely in return. He refrained from adding that she was also a marvelously pretty girl, who - in his mind - was related more to the fairy-folk than the real life sturdy, steady wolves. Though most of the times the opposite sex liked to receive compliments, there had been some, who had seen his openness as a sign of weirdness. 

"I am Birk from the Ice Fields," he went on to introduce himself. "And may I know your name?"

A moderate wind picked up, tugging at the tips of he greyscale pelt and swirling around them in a most liquescent manner. The chill of the oncoming winter nipped at them, but Olive heard his crystalline voice settle in her ear in a manner as clear as the night sky. The fae raised upon her haunches and resettled a foot nearer to the upbeat wolf, to hear him all the better. He was a friendly fellow and interested in her humble conversations; this, Olive could easily entertain.

And on what a most exquisite night! The sprite had not forgotten the incredible scene that played out behind her; the moon nearly reaching its crescendo high in the sky. The lunar goddess, that luminated cicerone in the sky, shone upon them. Olive drank in the moonbeams like a parched flower would do to the humid air of summer. They gave her light and energy, despite the late hour.

She turned her chin and canted her head towards the white specter as he inquired to her name and offered her his own. Birk, Olive committed to memory and she parted her grey lips to response. “Those who know me, call me Olive.”

“The ice fields?” she questioned. “Birk, I beseech you to tell me a story about your ice fields. I want to know them.” Olive begged in jest, but truly did wish to know about the man’s heritage. To clarify and provide context for her sudden earnest interest, the fae added “To share in each other’s narratives is one of the best ways to exalt the full moon.”

"It is pretty big, isn't it?" Birk noted, casting glance at the moon that shone brightly above the, but, where Olive saw a poetical beauty, there the simple man had nothing more to add. The unusual size was almost the only thing he could comment upon. He also noticed that she was not only good at singing, but good with using words. For a moment he wondered, if he should try to match her, but then decided that all of his efforts would turn out silly in the end. 

He decided to be just him. "Well, the title says it all, I think. Barren land covered in ice and snow as far as one's eye can see. A very hostile environment, but as you see - I have survived to tell the story," he grinned. "It would help me a lot, if you specified, what exactly you want to find out."

Olive’s ears crowned her skull as Birk did as requested, introducing her to these ice fields of his. He spoke of lands covered in ice and devoid of life; barren. Olive agreed, it was a hostile landscape and life upon the permafrost was difficult. Olive had seen this landscape once in her travels when she was a young pup, shepherded lazily across the Taiga by her parents. The small family strode too far north and found themselves surrounded by ice - and in her adolescence, Olive squalled and protested the cold until the family retreated and traversed a more straight forward path.

“I can see it,” Olive concluded with an affirmative toss of her head. “but I am a summer wolf myself; I fear that I do not have the grit for the cold.” The fae offered the male a coy smile, finding humor in the fact that this year's winter was upon their doorstep.

“You survived, yes, and you must have a great story to tell about your leaving. Show me your adventures in these dangerous fields...of which, I’m sure you have many.”

"Not many have the grit, as you say, that I must agree," Birk nodded in agreement. Not all wolves were cut to live there and over time he had come to a conclusion that there was a big difference between "being able to" and "wanting to be there". He had felt at some point that life had more to offer than a constant struggle for the dear life itself. 

"If only it was a great story," the boy laughed heartily. "I am neither hero, nor a noble knight. My story would be more about the coward, who wanted to seek for an easier way in life. I am a quitter, miss, and this is never a proud title to run by," he said.

"Ice fields just appear a place, where many adventures could happen, but that is not entirely true. I can tell you from experience that, while you reside there, you think only about the most primal things - keeping your belly full and your body warm," he paused there for a bit, looking for a good conclusion. "I am afraid that I have to disappoint you, miss, in providing you an entertainment, but you seem like having stepped out of a world of fairies yourself. Your story must be more exciting."

“A quitter? You mock yourself, surely, for there is no such thing as quitting. Our existences are the culmination of our decisions - our ‘yes’s as well as our ‘no’s.’ There is nothing but our egos to  which is right and which is wrong. There is no shame in choosing the easier path. Trust that our lives unfold exactly how they are supposed to.” The greyscale fae chirped, hoping her bright, jeweled tone would instill a sense of confidence in the boy [rather than reluctance]. Nothing could poison a mind like self doubt and Olive hoped to eradicate the weapon from Birk’s arsenal. Though, Olive figured, that feat would take more than simple words to accomplish.

Alas, she continued. “If you don’t have a grand story, you must have a grand imagination - and in that case, I ask you: what do you believe my story to be?” Olive never thought of herself as a playful wolf [there was something about spirituality that sometimes prevented her exhibiting the jocularity of others], but the pulsing energy of the full mood  gently altered her perception. “You may guess thrice… and if you guess correctly, I will share a secret with you.”

Birk's initial blind admiration of the girl's otherworldly beauty and virtues was tinted by the dark gray splotches of "what have I got myself into???" . Olive was undoubtedly intelligent and... a bit over the top. Not that he did not like smart girls, it was that he knew that the longer they talked, the harder would it be for him to match with her. He tried to follow through all of the things the girl said, but she spoke in such a complicated manner, that he soon lost half of, what she had tried to convey with words. At the end of the first part of the speech, when he was supposed to give some sort of acknowledgement, he simply nodded his head and added an agreeing "yeah, I guess you are right".

When she assumed that Birk possessed great imagination, he shrunk visibly, wondering, when had he professed such a thing? Or she had drawn the false impression by him talking too much. "Erm..." did he know any smart imaginary creature? His mom had talked about gods now and then, but, since there was not much use of them in that part of the world, he had not cared to recall them. Who had been the smartest of them all? Even worse, she wanted to hear three possible choices. "Erm... Odin, maybe? Except he was a he and had only one eye. Though you could be Odina. That is one..." 

The natives of his homeland - Jotunns - had rarely been praised for their intelligence, but - oh - there had been one smartass lady there too. Beautiful too. "Uh... Skadi - she was the only pretty giant that possessed some brains. That's two." And... three? "Sorry, I have run out of options - who are you then?"

Ahhh sorry she got too intense lol

 
The male was uncomfortable – that much was obvious. The fae listened attentively as he struggled to visualize her past life; she did not think he would answer correctly, but she was pleased with his comparison to the gods. Olive felt herself unworthy of the title [who was she but a mortal wolf, sent to live and die and return to the earth?] but felt flattered anyways. Odin was familiar to her, though he was not a God whose litany she subscribed to.  She his power knew through the fables of strangers encountered on her journeys, but Skadi she knew naught about. The ever perceptive fae had a feeling that Birk did not wish to talk more about the Gods [as she did], and he provided a nice segue.

“All suitable guesses, for a little piece of each god resides inside us all.” Olive picked herself up on her haunches and moved in a circle around him, dancing lightly on her feet and attempting to amuse him with simple, upbeat theatrics. “Albeit, you are incorrect.”

“No gods stand in your presence, save for the magnificent heavens above. I am an unremarkable woman who led an unremarkable life.” The sylph downplayed her passions and vagabond tendencies in favor of sedated sentiments.  “I lived with my small family for most of my life, ever exploring and traversing new lands. You see, we were too small a group to hold territory and, truly… we never wanted to. I now have a new family – we live just northwest of here.” Olive spun her history with great inflection in her voice, trying not the overwhelm the lad [but unable to keep her grandiloquent ways hidden for long]. "You and I are similar, existing without the weight of an overtly macabre past... as many wolves do. We are blessed." For a quick moment, Olive's mind flitted to thoughts of Dakarai but hushed them.
 
“But, I told you that I would tell you a secret and I will not renig my promise.”

ooc: don't worry at all - I like the way she is and Birk is Birk. He is you happy-go-lucky, friendly but not overly smart neighbourhood guy. Plus, I am currently reading a Virginia Woolf's book and I can totally relate to, how Birk feels, when he has difficult time following through, what is going on. 

"Ooooh, I know that story!" Birk without much thought about good manners threw in the one piece of knowledge that he could relate to and hopefully even out the conversation. Olive was admirably tolerant, though he did not want her to think that he was a total simpleton. "About that bit of star all living beings carry in their hearts, right?"

After hearing the shortened version of the girl's life, Birk shook his head and said: "I think - and many people will agree with me - you are anything, but unremarkable." He could not imagine, how any person, who had met and talked to her, would later think of her as plain and ordinary. She was so intelligent and kind! And Birk had met plenty of the wolf clan, who had not been able to utter one word let alone speak so beautifully, to know that his statement was not wrong. 

"Isn't it so that, when a secret is told, it is no longer a secret?" he asked.

No wonder he feels so authentic, then! :)

Olive felt the heat of her cheeks as they turned tinctured pink. She truly did not believe his words and was slightly embarrassed by them. But, Olive appreciated his genuine and complaisant character. It was such…. earthly innocence. It was mesmerizing.  “I could say the same thing about you.” Then the sylph hastened to their next topic.

“I suppose you are correct, Birk. ” the fae conceded with a toss of her head — he was correct about secrecy, after all! A secret, when uttered to the wind, was free to travel and wander at will. But Olive’s idea was less cloak-and-dagger and more of a whispered astrological conjecture.  “Well, the secret is about the powerful forces at play… out there.” 

The nymph could not help but twist her grey lips into a smile and her eye gaze swept upwards, towards the stars. The cold winter currents had kept the night’s sky clear for them, allowing for a picturesque vantage point. “There is a planet between our earth and the sun, called mercury. It’s one of the five brightest stars in the sky… besides the sun and the moon, of course. It travels ‘round the earth in much the same manner, too.” Olive searched the map of the sky to find Mercury, but found she couldn’t. Reading energies was one thing, but the skill to visually locate individual planets and constellations was another thing entirely. “Soon, mercury will go into retrograde. It will appear to move backward in the night sky, and as mercury regresses for those few weeks, all manner of... mischievous things start to happen.” The tales of mercury retrograde had been passed down to her from her dear mother, but Olive, herself, was still diligently studying the phenomenon.

As she let the oracle sit thick between then, Olive became highly curious of Birk’s reception. The woman of ash and cream leaned in towards him, leaving space for him to make comments or questions [if he desired].

"Ooooh... that sounds really cool," Birk said and felt relieved that it wasn't any kind of personal secret. He was a good listener, when it came to hearing people out about their problems in lives, but he was bad at giving advice and not always enjoyed knowing... you know, all. Unwanted burden and responsibility that he avoided, whenever possible. But secrets about the universe and the world were innocent enough and, since he had always been a fan of stories, he therefore changed the spot so that he would sit paralell to the fae and see, what she saw or would be about to point out to him.

All stars looked the same to Birk in the night-sky, but he was not going to reveal that to Olive, fearing to disappoint her, if she attempted to treat that lack of knowledge. But he listened intently and thought it very interesting that a shiny dot in the sky could be such a trouble-maker. "Forgive me asking, but, how do you know, which one is the brightest? There are so, so many stars up there?"

“Well…” Olive began in a low, humble inflection. The true answer was that, well, Olive didn’t know. There were many creatures of the world who held within themselves innate knowledge of the skies, and not all of them were wolves. Once the tempest met a feisty tern [on its interminable migration to their breeding grounds in the Antarctic] whose knowledge of the vast universes above them astounded her. It seemed that, without even looking, the wild capon could determine which quadrant the moon fell into; but this made sense after all, as his kind biannually charted their course and migration schedules based on the placement of the stars. His knowledge was more of a practical kind, while her knowledge was more of an energetic inclination and observance. Both held a strong place in this world.

But she did know a little bit.

“The stars don’t move around like our moon does, so I like to find a constellation and memorize the stars that surround it. If you know the constellations, you can find anything – even the ever shifting planets. There are other ways, of course, but they’re a bit tricky… and I’ll be honest, you’ll find many wolves more skilled than I.”  The femme tossed Birk a greyscale grin, wanting to show him that there were things she didn’t know about the sky too. She could not fault him for his delightful ignorance; everyone was a genius in their own way, and you can’t judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree.

 “This month the moon sits close to Taurus, a group of stars that resembles a bull. See? There are the horns, lowered and ready to charge… and his legs are curled underneath his body, like we caught him in the midst of an assault.” She felt the need to demonstrate, so Olive giggled and enthusiastically lowered her feathered head and made a playful jab at him with imaginary horns, one leg curling underneath her in the manner of a charging ungulate.

Still - as much as Birk tried to see the picture Olive had described in the night-sky - he did not. They were all shiny dots to him and the most he could tell, when he looked hard enough, was that some really were brighter than the others. And that was about it. He looked at her and shrugged in an apologetic manner. It was sad that her knowledge (and surely there was plenty of it) was lost on him. 

"I think I will stick to the more obvious thing and, when I am hungry, I will think about that bul that prepares to charge at the moon," he said with a smile. He liked silly and funny stories and memorized them extremely well. "And by the way - don't underestimate yourself - most wolves - me included - would never even think of looking up there, seeing and knowing the stuff you do. My point is - you are smart compared to regular folk. Like me, for example."

Then - hoping that he might get more stories out of Olive, he asked: "So, is there any other edible stuff up there that I should be aware of?"

Oh, now he was stoking the flames of her pride and Olive couldn’t say she hated it. If there was anything she valued for herself, it was a strong mind - beauty be damned. One should only be measured by the size of their spirit, as that’s truly the only thing to exist after the physical body passed. But her ego was interrupted at her shot himself down in the process, calling himself average and regular.

“You are anything but a regular wolf!” she exasperated in jest [albeit carrying strong undertones of seriousness]. “You are Birk of the Ice Fields. The survivor of barren lands, covered in ice and snow as far as one's eye can see. The man who sought something other than the lot that he was dealt.” the woman canted her head and lifted her chin at him inquisitively. He had asked her a question about the stars, and she gently stored it away in the corner of her mind, with every intention of returning to it later.

“Does that sound like a regular wolf to you?”

"That sounds like a cowardly man to me," Birk said smiling, though it was clear from his tone that he was arguing with Olive just for the sake of arguing. He found that he liked her and enjoyed the company she provided. 

"I think that I will never see myself as noble as you paint me now," he continued, but he would keep this in mind, when he would want to boast with his feathers and just make himself feel good. It was odd to catch a glimpse of what another person could deduce from your words alone.

"So - the edible stuff? Any more birds or crawlers I can look forward to up there?" he returned to his previous question.

The boy was playing with her now, and she could not help but crack a smile. Perhaps sometimes she were too sober in her communions with others — Olive, as a pup, had always been sprightly and blithe thing. While she was just as blithe, she playfulness had drifted away somewhat and unabashed piety usurped the throne. Olive liked the way she was and enjoyed the way she viewed the world, the values she upheld… but, it was always nice for someone to break through the hull and glimpse the bloom underneath. The foe flashed Birk a grin and giggled once more at his musings. She conceded to him.

“Oh, fine — the least noble coward i’ve ever seen stands before me,”  and Olive’s tone conveyed that she, too, were completely jesting with him.

Birk’s previous question was retrieved from her the edifying back corner of her mind.“Yes, many.” The druid agreed with a nod of the head. “Hidden deep in the night sky is a crab, you know, the crusted creatures that live among the waves of the ocean? When the full moon falls in close proximity to this crab, a great sense of generosity and loyalty falls over the earth.  I’ve also heard of a constellation resembling two fish, names Pisces. But I’ve yet to find that image amongst the stars.”


The woman then wondered if the figure in front of knew what a grab or a fish were, having come from a place sleeted in icea. “Say, have you ever been to the ocean?” Birk was wandering the coast afterall, so it wasn’t a complete impossibility. 

"A crab, you say?" Birk tried to hide his disappointment and was almost good at doing so, though his sorrowful look, when he gazed up to the starry night-sky to find the constellation, betrayed him. Crabs weren't such a satisfying food - too much shell and trouble, too less meat. "Maybe it is a mighty big one," he suggested in the end, casting a glance at Olive. A big crab wouldn't be that bad of a food choice to think about.

"To the ocean - yes, indeed," he nodded and then added with a sly grin, "I have even walked one." Let her guess, how he had managed that. If she had been careful at listening to his tales, she might as well guess the correct answer.

Walked on an ocean? Olive tipped her head to one side, ears flopping on top of her head in a puppy-like manner. The wayfarer had been to the ocean many times in her life, as child and as a grown woman. She loved the power of it, and the consistency of it. The tides. The gentle lap lap lap at the shore. Or, the thunderous booming of tumultuous waves as they smashed into earthen cliffs.  She had watched shoals of fish dart, glint and skitter across the waters surface — pursued by some unseen threat below. The greyscale vagabond had seen it all, but never ever had she seen a wolf walk on water.

“Oh, a joke?” Her tone was bright and jeweled, certain that he was playing with her again. The man was silly… but in an innocuous manner. It was refreshing, as she was coming to realize that the world was fully to bursting with solemnity. “Can you fly, too?”

Birk was taken back by Olive's first guess and therefore stared at her with wide eyes and mouth agape for moment and then burst out laughing. "I wish I could," he choked out between the spells of laughs, thinking of himself as some sort of weird and ugly bird-like thing gliding over the Ice fields. Oh, what a sight...

"But no... geez..." he said eventually, wiping tears away from his eyes with first one, then the other forepaw. "Not even close... I say... surprise me again?" he looked up at her with innocent eyes and an amused smile playing on his lips.

Wow, sorry! It took way longer than 30 minutes for me to get back! I’m on the couch for the rest of the night, though haha

Birk appeared to think her joke was hilarious (albeit she wasn’t entirely joking) and he was hooting with laughter, tears springing to her eyes. Intentional or not, Olive was pleased that she could elicit such a delightful fit from the man — that didn’t happen often. Glee rose in her chest and Olive laughed along with him, all the while covering her sheepish grin with a tiny, white paw.

“Surprise you?” She started again, once the din of laughter had faded away.  “There’s no need, because you’ve already surprised me with your otherworldly seafaring capabilities.” But then she was serious, no longer joking. Was he a water prophet, sent by the oceans gods to defy all physics… or was he not? The fae really wanted to figure this out, and she tapped her feet on the ground in excitement.

“Would you surprise me again, if you were to fall from the cliffs into the sea? Would you sink, or would you walk?"

"I think I would be dead the moment my poor dense head hit the water surface," Birk replied, having experienced the pains of hitting the water with exposed belly first. It was not hard to imagine, what would happen, if he went down from a greater height. 

"However - I will tell you the answer of the mystery I proposed. Ice," he said and shrugged. "Up, where I come from, there are places, where the ocean has a thick cap of ice on top of it. Hence the ice fields," he left out the part, where he and his siblings had messed with fate and had fun, jumping from one floating ice piece to the other during the spring time, when it was warm enough for the solid cap to melt and crack.

I’m going to start wrapping this up, feel free to reply and archive :) Thank you for the fun thread, let’s definitely have another! 

Olive’s mouth fell open as a response to her own naiveté. The lamb had been unable to decipher his riddle, yet the answer seemed so clear when revealed! Ice!  She grasped and tripped over several words before finally clamping her jaws shut and lilted her head in a gesture that read ‘oh, wow.’ To be fair, the druid had limited experience with the sea and sea ice [though her experience living amongst coastal folk was bridging this earthly knowledge gap]. Her family was indeed nomadic and Olive did not truly know where she was born, but it was clear that she were built for beautiful, warm, tepid environments. She was slight of frame and walked upon four twig-like legs and . The soft, milky pelt which draped her form provided decent warmth, but would be described more feathery than plush. Olive was built to be nimble and to move and to travel; but no, she was not a winter wolf.

“If that’s the case, I implore you to stay away from the coast over there,” A flick of her maw showed Birk in which direction the coastline lay. “There’s nothing but seaside cliffs for your to bump your head on.” A small laughed chimed between her words. It was nice being able to enjoy lightheartedness and relaxation such as this, without the piety that a full moon often afforded. 

Though Olive was having fun with Birk, she found herself becoming tired in the late hour. “I must get back, for I do believe the moon has had enough of me for one night.” She regarded Birk closely and then nodded her head, as if agreeing to a unasked question. “Should you ever seek a family, I know mine would be open to you.” Olive smiled once more, dashed her tongue across her friend’s cheek in an affectionate adieu and then began her descent down the rocky slope of the Keep back towards Ravensblood Forest.