Falls of the Hinterlands New Goodbye

Wraen beamed, when Finbar got in the role of coming up with creative (and not necessarily untrue, for who had been up there and seen the real cause of it all) ways to explain the events that had led to the avalanche. He was a natural for an adult and people, who were able to retain some of their childish spark into the adulthood were very rare. 

"I am sorry to disappoint you, but I think that, while I would be swallowed whole by the giant baby, you would be a two-bite snack," she teased him. "Or even worse - a chew-toy."

Fluke chuckled good-naturedly at the thought of being some sort of playtoy or chewtoy, as Wraen explained, for a baby giant wolf. He shrugged one shoulder and tilted his chin up. "Bet I'd taste some good," He said. He half thought about saying the same thing to Wraen- as a compliment- but something about that just sounded...Dirty, so he decided not to, and was glad that he made that decision. Instead, he touched his nose to her shoulder. "If they were really smart, they'd keep you around as their storyteller rather than eating you." He said, and winked one of his jade eyes at her. "Though they'd have to fight us for you."

"That actually gives quite a nice intro to a story - a princess kidnapped by hungry giants, but she can escape her death, if she tells a story every day..." Wraen mused, without realizing that this kind of story had already been written across the world. Except less cannibalistic wolves, more murderous prince, whose poor wife had had to tell a new story for 1001 nights. Sounds familiar, eh?

"Unless they snack on you first," she remarked on the topic of being protected by her pack, but despite the grim prospects she would appreciate the effort. "Anyway... oh, wow, a snack!" Wraen had pawed absentmindedly at the snow and recovered a dead mouse, which she scooped up and swallowed whole.

"Ouuh!" Fluke said, interested by the story that Wraen began to spin. "So she tells them stories day after day, drawing from her dreams, 'cause of course she'd have to have some pretty vivid dreams, living up with the giants," He said, as though that made any sense at all. He would have continued had she not made a comment that made him pause and chuckle, and then pause again- when she suddenly managed to dig up a little snack from the avalanche debris. 

"Whaaat?" He asked, surprised that such a thing had happened. "You kiddin' me? This thing brought us snacks!?" He asked excitedly, and began to climb over the large pile of debris, scratching and sniffing here and there to see if anything else had been dragged down the mountainside and dropped off at their doorstep.

"I don't think that having a death sentence as a motivator to keep telling stories is not very inspiring. I would be afraid and rambly, no good would come out of me," Wraen mused, happy that she was not the prisoner of the bloodthirsty and hungry giants. That they were not real, for one thing, and that, if they were, they probably were more involved with throwing rocks and ice at each other.

"I might have got the only one in the whole lot," she warned, smiling playfully at him and then joining the fellow in search for more food. "So, if you were in story, which role would you like to take? The wise, crafty and cunning hero? The treasure guarding dragon? Damsel in distress?" she teased him, arching an eyebrow.

Continuing in a friendly banter they walked all the way back to Firebird residence.