The Sentinels on letting go

Tag for reference!

While @Chakliux hunted, Ariadne wandered outside of the plateau that Moontide claimed. It felt good to explore again, especially intending to find a new home, and she moved with verve.

She weaved among the charred remains of The Sentinels, taking care with her steps as she plowed through the ferns underfoot. Although this land didn't speak to her in a manner that beckoned her home, she still found herself wondering what it was like here before the fire. With her mind occupied by these thoughts and focused on ensuring she was careful where she walked, Ariadne headed north.

crystalized salt clung from the wisps of fur-knots, his coat covered in a gleaming array of sea and greenwood. faithful child of the forest, he found himself tracing the steps he'd last taken here.

this place would need constant care and affection to regrow into it's former glory, and the dryad thought himself warden of the woods. a nurse to breathe life into a place once teeming with it.

but he was not alone in his steps. breeze greeted him with the scent of a stranger, and he carved his path out to meet her amongst the deadwood.

feminine figure enveloped his view as he strolled to greet her, head low and tail swinging with neighborly warmth.

Thanks for joining!

She was alone with her thoughts until a stranger materialized in the distance. He was a large individual with fur the color of the earth and eyes of fire, and, admittedly, he was handsome, too. She watched with interest, studying him as he approached.

This woman greets you, she called, waving her tail to the bear man.

heavy paws carried him near as eyes of amber beheld gentle heart. cedar ears swept forward at her greeting as stroll turned to stall.

"this man greets you as well," he echoed her greeting with a swish of his tangled tail. sea-breeze brushed inwards, and with it came a variety of foreign scents.

she was of the sea — haliae, and yet her coat held stories of inland adventures. he sucked in a breath as heart gave a quiet thrum. "you are of the sea?" he asked with amiable curiosity.

No, Ariadne decided, I am a woman of the moon.

You are a man who travels? She guessed in turn as she sniffed, smelling forestry and coastal scents. You carry the stories of many places—I wonder what stories you have to share.

she corrected him, and he let the corner of his lips tug upwards into a surprised smile. "ah, you are an asteriai," he presented her title as if it were a jeweled crown placed upon her head. "a being of stars and moon."

his tail found itself to a steady sway as she spoke of travels and stories, to which he felt a surge of merriment pulse through him. "i am a mender, a healer for the broken and the lost."

he stepped a few paces to the side, off towards a dead tree that had begun to sprout new life. "and my stories are that of restoration. of guiding the stray back to the path of life."

he turned to her then, eyes of magma brimming with soul and devotion.

A ... asteriai, she echoed thoughtfully, testing the word on her tongue. There is no word like that in my language, so I will use yours. Somehow, she felt it suited her. What language do you speak?

He spoke of his life's work, and she swooned; she had not encountered many male healers. Most were hunters and warriors who favored working with their bodies instead of their brains. Tell me your favorite story, she invited as she took a seat and curled her tail around her forepaws.

"i speak the language of fae, though is more commonly called sylvan." he knew only of a handful that still spoke the forgotten tongue outside of his homeland. to hear her speak a word of it now, even if it was just an echo, warmed his heart.

she requested a story, and he was happy to oblige. he seated himself against the cool touch of earth as he thought back to stories of his life. she'd asked for his favorite, and a smile beamed wide across his maw.

"last summer a sea-storm devastated my homeland. the sea took many souls home with her that night, and those that remained were left in ruin." he'd felt rage like none other, and a sense of betrayal from the creation he'd nurtured. "i was wrathful for my kin, for their loss. and yet in the midst of my fury i was given a gift. three mirfae — children, appeared before me on desolated shores."

even now he could still see their small frames huddled together for comfort and warmth. "i was granted the opportunity to raise them, and in caring for them i found a new purpose. lost and alone, they saved me, as i did them."

he looked to her then, heart swelled with the fondness of his memory. perhaps it was not the most captivating of the stories he could tell, but it was certainly the one that left him with the most joy and gratitude.

Mmm, she hummed in acknowledgement, I like that word—"fae". Is that the language that your village speaks? She was finding herself more and more curious about the place the bear man came from.

He divulged to her a sad and happy story that made her feel many things.  She couldn't imagine losing her home like that—wherever it was—but she was happy that he had found love and happiness because of it. Your village ... did someone upset the sea? she asked, her eyebrows knitting in concern as she unexpectedly and anxiously thought of Moontide.

she announced her admiration in his language, and he felt a rush of warmth to his cheeks. "it is," he answered as a breeze swept by. her coat held the aroma of others, and he found himself curious if she'd come from a settlement not unlike his own. "though there are many among our shores who speak in different tongues."

she questioned the sea's wrath, and he found himself lost in reflection. "perhaps," he began, questioning himself if there had been any amongst their numbers who would cheated nature's spirit. "or perhaps the sea had felt a sadness that could not have been purged without flooding tears."

perhaps he had read the sea's emotions wrong during the time of storm. it had not been vexation they'd felt on rocky shores. it had been despair.

Ah, his village was a mixing bowl of sorts. Did your village have a common set of beliefs? she asked, curious. Although the moonvillages were similar and some members didn’t strictly adhere to their practices, they were all connected by their core beliefs.

When he elaborated, she nodded and fell into a long silence. It felt cruel and unfair for them to have fallen victim to the sea for what she felt was a frivolous reason, and she felt herself feeling the need to prevent the same thing from happening to Moontide.

I think I will build an altar for her to protect my home, she decided.

the joy he'd felt upon her question flooded him like a roaring wave. "yes, we believe that all comes from nature, and to nature all must return. balance, without it we are lost." even the deadwood surrounding them now was of perfect example. in death new life bloomed.

had he known his story had sent a shiver to her very bones, he might have opted not to tell it. he loved the sea, even in the wake of her destruction. "do you often build altars to appease nature?" he'd heard of shrines before, but it was not the way in which he practiced.

She shook her head. No, not usually. She answered. This will be my first time. She had seen the altars that @Kukutux and @Sialuk had constructed over the years and learned how they used them. It didn’t seem unreasonable to think she could use one to appease the sea.

What do you think she would like? she asked.

she sought his opinion, and he was lost on what to say. altars were not what he constructed, and so he could only offer the wisdom he knew of. "i am not sure. my people do not build altars." he spoke of the truth, and then of his knowledge. "we inscribe runes upon the earth, sing hymns and weave dances." his people were connected to fibers of creation, and altars seemed so distance from the intimacy of reverent labour.

he thought for a moment before parting his lips to offer a suggestion. "perhaps you might sing when you construct your altar. let the words be of your heart and the sea will surely listen." a look to her then, curious if she had ever sung before.

Singing and dancing—now that was an idea. Ariadne looked at Barbatos with an eager smile, her tail sweeping the ground behind her.

Do you have a song for the sea that I may sing when I build her altar? she asked.

assuming that she follows him for continuity, poke me if i'm wrong and i'll edit my post <3

she requested a song, and in this he debated. after a moment he stood, a flame of warmth burning fierce behind inferno eyes. "come," he invited with an encouraging tone as he shifted his weight to carry paws near to the forest's edge, close where sea could be heard crashing against calm shores. 

he paused as dirt bled into sand, and then turned to look upon his fair companion. "a song must be of heart, of soul." he invited her near to him with a gesture of his paw. "feel that which surrounds you," he began as he dug earthly paws into the sandy soil beneath him. "feel the life in earth and sea." eyelids fluttered shut as he sucked in a deep breath.

an exhale then as eyes opened.

"feel the spirits of that which you seek to protect. and then when you are ready, sing of your desires." he could not teach her a song that must be of her own creation, but he could guide her in such ways to construct one.

lips parted, and a hymn slipped from his tongue as example.

"spirits of forest and sea collide."
"nurses of coursing power and life."
"tend to deadwood, wounds of old."
"restore strayed beauty, back to blooming hope."

a song for the woods they stood within, that it might once again witness flourishing green days.

Barbatos led, and Ariadne followed, enchanted and wonderstruck by the subject matter. This one understands now how to feel the earth, she admitted as they stood where the sand and dirt met. She wriggled her toes, concentrating as she honed in on the earth's pulse; how had she never felt this before? It is strange, but I like it. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, as she tried to take note of everything she felt.

"spirits of forest and sea collide."
"nurses of coursing power and life."
"tend to deadwood, wounds of old."
"restore strayed beauty, back to blooming hope."

She opened her eyes and smiled, listening to the words he sang and feeling them in her soul. She wasn't sure what it was about this man, but he brought out her ability to connect with the land in a way she never had; a guide for her to learn these new skills.

spirits of forest and sea collide."
"nurses of coursing power and life."
"tend to deadwood, wounds of old."
"restore strayed beauty, back to blooming hope, she repeated.

in all that she could have said, and all that she could do, nothing brought the dryad more joy than to have her accept his teaching with open arms. she did not question why they walked or why he sang for the forest, she simply accepted.

her voice was pleasant, and he let himself breathe in the hope of her repeated words. he turned to her then, and thought her dovelike.

"you know how to sing for sea now," he started, an affectionate smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"it is my hope that your altar stands strong, and that your song is heard far and wide across the sea."

She grinned from ear-to-ear as he spoke. I thank you, she said, her tail wagging and her eyes crinkling as she looked up at him. I feel much better after sharing words with you.

With her newfound perspective, Ariadne found herself itching to return to Moontide to continue to work on her altar. I am afraid I must go—I have new ideas I must work out for my shrine. She hoped that he'd understand.

he shared in her grin, a smile of his own forming softly on the corner of his lips. she'd found a new enthusiasm in her steps, and for this the dryad could feel only delight.

"i wish you all the luck with your altar," he let out as a final sendoff. he waited for her begin her exit before he gave a last dip of his maw and turned to continue through the sentinels.

he paused after a few paces, sight turning to glance back in the direction of where they'd both once stood. they'd not exchanged names, and he wondered if he should call for her then.

but he did not, instead opting to believe that their paths might yet cross again in the future, and that they could properly introduce themselves then.

This woman thanks you, Ariadne said in response to Barbatos's well wishes. May our paths cross again. She turned to leave, mind full of ideas and aspirations for the coming days, never fully realizing they'd never exchanged names. It wasn't until a few days later that this thought crossed her mind.