Blackfeather Woods primordial state of chaos
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Ooc — Talamasca
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The longer he stayed here, the less and less he felt compelled to leave. Had Mou known of his wandering ways prior to being on the island, he would've laughed. If he could recall the last time he was here among the shadows and the crows, he would've screamed. But it felt more like home now that Maegi had arrived, and he was given time to recover from his ordeal.

Mou was still dangerously thin. He relied less on his medicine on some days, yet others required it, or he felt the need for a larger than average dose. It made the passage of time seem less important. He ate more when he had his medicine, mostly because the meat was laced with it and it was the poppy that he craved. But he was getting better in a physical sense and that was good.

Mentally, the boy wasn't so sure. He drifted from moment to moment, place to place, and would often wake in strange places with nothingness in between. It was like the darkness in the forest was calling to him — a sentience, a force — and he was far too calm about all of it. When he "woke up" this time (which felt more akin to "returning to one's body") he was at a strange new place within the territory.

It was like a monument; he had no way to understand the importance of Nightcaller Temple, having never heard of it before, nor been taught its significance. He woke with a start, and stared at the strangeness of the world around himself like a child taking their first steps.
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the temple was where relmyna found herself most often, for that was where the mother moved. it was she who spoke most often to the priestess, and her heart had begun to answer with words she did not often expect. at times, it was sleepless swathes she spent at the site of her brewing and her bone fetishes, pacing, with an eye ever upon the horizon. for what she waited, relmyna did not know.
often she thought of maegi's return, and wondered at the wolves who had brought her home. most of all, it was the odd, scarred mou and his involvement with the melonii girl that occupied relmyna's thoughts. no conception of romance; it was a deep curiosity limned in a maternal worry that there were things she could not know.
both of them young, and so torn already by events in their respective worlds. it was with this weight of sorrow upon her soul that the priestess encountered mou in the temple. returning to the cauldron with the still-flapping body of a dove, she lay down her weakened burden and lay a small forepaw over it, turning a softly questioning gaze upon the boy.
all angles and one staring eye; her heart swelled with a particular pity and her ragged lips curved in a brief and affable smile. mou, came her silent mouthing. relmyna said no more than that — if he approached, it would be of his own accord. she would not press him for a response.
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He felt exposed. As if something was watching him, as if he were seeing things from an outside perspective, and gradually that sensation ebbed away and he came to a state of wakefulness that felt more natural. He blinked and observed, took a deep breath, and began to pull away from the shrine when he saw movement. The shape of the wolf hadn't been there a moment ago, had it? He couldn't remember. Mou was surprised but didn't react much to the sight of Relmyna; he felt that feeling again though, as if he was watching the scene unfold but he wasn't a participant — except he was, and this dichotomy of experience-versus-observation made him dizzy. He felt compelled to ask questions, but instead Mou merely drifted closer to the woman.

She seemed to belong here, unlike him. The boy watched her and then began to investigate the area around her, wondering with a tilt to his head, what are you doing? Perhaps in knowing this, Mou could come to understand how he arrived to this place. What was it for? How did it get here? How did he get here — and why did it seem to be calling out for him to get closer?
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he drew forth, his step wary, his expression questioning. the listener stood placidly beneath his inquisition, offering a low croon of reassurance. he too had not spoken since arriving; she worried greatly he was not able. what manner of evil had befallen this child, still so young and irreparably damaged by the world? a melonii she truly was not; relmyna was without the coolheaded and serpentine logic of the family into which she had been bound by motherhood.
and it was her maternal heart that drew up her lips; she encouraged him with a low chuff to follow her. there was a cache not far, and she was struck by the sudden desire to feed the boy. perhaps if she could establish herself as a beacon of safety, he might reveal something in regard to himself. seafoam gaze rested gently on mou as she waited to see if he would follow, plume flagging lightly at her heels.
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She reminded him strongly of Maegi. Maybe if Maegi had lost the use of her voice the way he had, then they'd be identical. Except the longer he lingered in her presence, the less and less he trusted that assumption - she seemed, somehow, softer. That isn't to say she wasn't confident; but there had always been a harsh quality to Maegi that the boy appreciated because it was so like himself, while this older woman did not have such a quality.

As she welcomed him to follow, he didn't think about his response but silently came to heel beside her. She led, and he followed, feeling less like he was directing his limbs and more like he was drifting on the fringes of a dream. Whatever pull the altar had on the boy, it was fueled by his medicine and had not fully worn off.
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there was worry in her for the mute boy, but relmyna did not act upon this — she would see to it that his needs were tended while he emerged from whatever stupor claimed him now. a cache, a small rabbit; relmyna unearthed it carefully, shaking dirt from its pelt and nudging it toward mou. her seafoam gaze lifted to his own hazy stare; a brief movement of her plume and an inquiry that he should eat.
it seemed the seawolves had known him, the tall one cloaked in shadows with tufted ears, perhaps. maegi certainly had; the pair had existed along the sands together at one time, was her inference. but how had he come to blackfeather before the melonii girl? there was a story here and she had not yet gleaned all the chapters.
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While the Listener busied herself with the cache, Mou was studying the altar. The shape of it, the size, it loomed but he did not feel afraid. Soon the boy was striding closer to it rather than to Relmyna, and as she unearthed the hare and offered it, he was distracted. There were a series of offerings splayed out along the altar and he was investigating them. Scattered bones; some dried herbs, some decorated with dried blood; mostly things he did not recognize, and a stone. It was small and smooth, as if it had come from a river. In the dim light he couldn't tell the color.

Relmyna was waiting. Mou turned sharply as if he had been prodded awake, snorting back a breath, and looked at her and then the offered meal. He did not feel hungry, but he trusted the gift and was starting to return to himself. He moseyed over and sniffed at the offered meat but didn't partake, not yet. His head turns and he looked over at the altar and the stone again, curious about it.
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he did not eat, but relmyna followed his gaze toward the altar. it was a draw to her also. with an appraising look into eyes that seemed far too bleary for her liking, the priestess turned her attention upon the summit and smiled. it is where i come to commune with the gods, mou, relmyna mouthed. whether or not the boy understood, or even replied, was of little account to the priestess.
at times it was pleasant unto her to speak only for the pleasure of it. so long had she been silent, and now she was understood for the most part. it was a singular treat that the listener could not explain, and perhaps it was not something that needed such. some spirit has surely intervened on your behalf several times, the priestess mused gently. and perhaps that same spirit brought you here.
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He glances away from the stone when she moves, and Mou is perceptive enough to notice her mouthing of words; it strikes him as curious, but familiar too. He doesn't know why but he can read her lips with some ease, as if he's practiced this skill at another time. She speaks of gods and spirits. He slowly nods, and with his own mouthed words he says, Sithis.

He still felt the pull of the altar, and so he stepped away from Relmyna's company and went to properly investigate. In his current state of mind the offered items seemed so strange, but not frightening. Mou did not know if he had been born in to a world of magic, or if he came from a family with their own religious doctrine, but he was not frightened by what he had found here. The offerings bled together with the surface they were displayed on, but it was the pebble that drew his attention. He thought he saw it catch the light — it glimmered, it blinked, and that momentary shift in his perception startled him enough to make him draw back a step.

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her ears flicked forward; for a moment relmyna scarcely breathed. sithis. dark prince — had the serpent been the one to bring mou forth. it changed several things for the priestess, and she regarded the scarred, voiceless boy with an appraising air. had such things been the price paid for sithis' protection? and maegi — what horrible things had been asked of the pair?
she flanked mou as he approached the altar, watching the hungry burn of his single eye rove over the offerings. and they settled upon the rock of tongues, the pair of them. relmyna watched the surface of it begin to churn with its usual opaque tendrils, and knew instinctively it was to the boy they called. she brushed his shoulder lightly, grasping the stone before she lay down on her belly beside the altar, front legs outstretched. a low croon for him to do the same, and if he followed suit, mirroring her, the listener would place the writhing stone between mou's own forepaws.
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She came and plucked the stone from the altar, and as it moved he followed it with his eye, his expression growing a little more intense the further it went from him; but then Relmyna sank low and welcomed him to sit with her. He did, mirroring her so that their forelimbs created a diamond with the stone between them. The rock was swirling with energy, calling to him, and when the Listener pushed the stone towards him, he relaxed.

The energy of the stone drew his attention foremost, and he watched it as if it were some great artifact; Mou had no such spirituality inherent to his character but his connection to the forest, to Maegi, and to Sithis seemed to grow with every moment he spent among the trees, making it difficult for him to separate himself from the moment. The stone was watching him as if it were an eye — perhaps the eye of Sithis himself — and suddenly things began to make sense (in the way that a fiending addict might connect the dots of a great mystery that only they could unveil).

Mou dipped his face close to the stone, and with a sickening pop, lodged the smooth stone within the empty concave where his eye once sat. It wasn't a comfortable fit and he blinked furiously, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them over and over, until his eyelid fell in to place, but even then the object was obviously not a perfect fit. It stayed lodged there though — and when he lifted his head again, he stared back at Relmyna with one golden eye and one steadfast orb of conglomerate.
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she could not have anticipated what mou intended with the rock of tongues. but neither did relmyna recoil from the sickening sound of the hard surface being forced between the bones of his empty eye socket. it skewed his eyelid slightly, but added an eldritch and haunted look to his already scarred countenance, something preternatural. perhaps it would be horrifying to those outside blackfeather, but not so here. mou, a great spirit moves in you, relmyna mouthed. listen to the words of the dark prince.
may sithis guide the boy; the listener felt both dread and relief move upon her. both maegi and mou had been forged in some terrible fire during their time outside the wood. perhaps whatever had been placed within them now would be given life within blackfeather and the generations of magick pulsing in the woodland.
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A great spirit moves in you. Spoke the Listener, in her silent way.
Listen, she was telling him. Wasn't that her job? He thought.

But there was an energy in the moment. The feeling that had pulled him to the altar was now pulsing where his new eye sat. The stone irritated the skin there and caused some discomfort but it paled in comparison to the almost shamanistic adulation that began to fester there. Mou wanted to believe. He wanted his life to mean something. So far, he'd only been a waste of space and resources — but in carrying this new eye he connected himself forever to the woods, and to Sithis. If the god were to speak to him, would he listen? Would he obey? 

The boy could only sit there wishing, hoping, that he'd be given the opportunity to choose.