Blackfeather Woods waiting for something or someone to show you the way

For the quest "Lunar Views."

The first night she'd spent under these boughs after returning from the coast, the moon had been no more than a sliver in the sky, almost entirely invisible in the woods. Now, it was quite round, if still incomplete, and its rays flooded the forest floor even with the cloud cover.

Maegi had never paid much attention to the sun or the moon. Why should she? In the darkness of Blackfeather Woods, nothing mattered but what lie beneath the canopy. The swamps, the tunnels, the poisons within. The moon and sun were of a world separate from this, and that world was trivial to the girl that once was. After staying on the island, so open and exposed, her tune had changed, a bit.

She still had little appreciation for the blinding sun--but the moon was different.

She loved its gentle, pale light, and the way it complimented the pinpricks of the stars. It bounced off her ivory pelt and sent her glowing, even in the depths of the forest. There was much wisdom to be found in the changing of the moon, the way it morphed day by day. Trouble was, she didn't know where she could find that wisdom.

And a lack of wisdom, as always, frustrated Maegi. Perhaps she would figure it out on her own, like she had much else.

The pale child had long ago given up on being sneaky in any way. She knew that she was not built for such things. She had yet to discover what she was built for, but she knew that it would come to her some day. At six months of age the ghost stood at a height that resembled the parents she was borne from, though her form remained lanky and clearly not yet fully grown. Time would tell how much growing up would help shape her into an adult.

Large ears cupped forward when she saw another white shape. Upon closer inspection it was not fully white; eyes were mismatched, noticeable by contrast, though from afar the white shadow could not tell what colours they were. Feet were socked by grey that could have been dirt had it not been so similarly shaped, and had toes not been white. The pale child's eyes were caught by the right front paw, which looked... different. Wrong, on first thought, but perhaps it required further inspection to know for sure, as the pale child did not know why she thought it -- why her instincts thought it -- wrong.

A chuff was uttered and with a wave of her tail the pale child approached. She had been utterly bored anyway; time for some fun. Hopefully this new wolf to this family could provide it.

Pawsteps and the sound of a chuff greeted her ears, and Maegi turned to find another pale figure close by, eyes like twin stars, startlingly white. This must be the sister of the dark girl; she hadn't tried to eat Blue yet or mess with her stuff, so Maegi was already more fond of this one. A small smile bloomed over her mouth, and she nodded, beckoning her closer with a tilt of her chin.

"Hello," she greeted more softly than usual, tail swaying gently behind her. "What's your name?" Was she mute, as well? Even so, as long as she behaved, it didn't really matter. Maegi would try to fill her head with knowledge, the kind of learning that befit a spiderling of the Woods.

"The moon is very big tonight," she remarked. "A blessing from Azura. Do you know who that is?" the princess queried, tilting her head to stare at the girl.

Words came to greet her, of course, as they tended up. She guzzled them all up, understood them though did not look like she was making an effort to in any way. She just stared blankly at the other, blinking. Upon the question, she answered no more than a haunting: "Spirit." The pale one had been told her name was Averna on many an occasion but to her, names did not matter. She remembered well the boy who thought her to be a real ghost, a real spirit, and she considered herself as such too. Among the wolves of speech lived the family of spirits and she, with her haunting ghostly white appearance, she was truly a spirit, a ghost, she believed. Living between the realm of spirits and this one.

As her attention was gathered towards the moon the ghost looked up. Azura... She remembered something about this, but shook her head nonetheless, then looked hungrily at the girl with the weird paw; hungry for information.

It fit. For someone who'd thought herself a ghost before, Maegi had to concede that this girl was even more so than her. Those white eyes. . . She smiled her crooked smile, pleased to know that the spiderling could give her a name, at least. Perhaps not much else, but a name was incredibly helpful. (Especially since she'd taken to calling Astara "brat" in her head, for lack of a better name.)

"Very nice to meet you, Spirit," she answered. "My name is Maegi. And Azura," she continued, at the shake of the head, "is the Daedric god of night and day. Azura controls the balance in-between the two." Azura was not very well known to her, nor beloved, but she had at least gotten the cliff-notes version.

She wondered which gods' name Relmyna had given this girl. She couldn't think of one, herself. Perhaps Azura would do fine. But it didn't quite fit. . .

"We are children of the moon," Maegi murmured, nodding at their pale pelts each in turn. "What do you like to do, Spirit?"

The pale child did not think of 'spirit' as her name, but as what she was, but did not correct the other. Instead she merely listened as she introduced herself as 'Maegi'. Instantly the ghost decided that she would call this girl 'Legs' instead. It was such a more fitting name, just as how Spirit was more fitting than Averna to her.

Some knowledge had been passed on to the ghostly child, but because her caretaker did not speak not as much. She learned words and she learned of the Gods but in her mind the two -- the voices she heard, the signs she followed, her connection to the spirit world and the gods -- had not yet been connected as two inseparable halves of a whole. Pale eyes glanced at the moon as Legs told her about Azura, the god of night and day and the balance between the two. The pale child wondered instantly if maybe Legs also knew about a god that balanced the spirit world and the real world. It was the first time she realised that maybe, all that she was and all that she experienced was for a reason and because a god was steering her. Surely, the pale child herself was a prime example of the powers of such a god.

Instead she merely watched the moon as Legs asked her what she liked to do. As a non-verbal example of what she liked to do the ghost pounced at Legs' good paw as if it were a frog she was chasing. Then she looked up and said: "Frogs!" And after one last pounce at Legs' paw she hopped around like a frog -- or as good a frog imitation as she could muster, anyway -- while going "Robbit, ribbit, rabbit, croakity croak!" As frogs do, of course.

'Legs' I love it lol

She waited expectantly for the answer, only to be slightly disappointed as the girl went for her paw, instead. Were both of Relmyna's children stuck in infancy? Maegi forced a smile, taking a slight step back in discomfort as Spirit played and croaked. She couldn't remember the last time she'd played. With Ramsay or Euron, surely. Before the war.

Oh, there was the time with Droman, by the sea--but that was just fun, surely? A release? They hadn't been croaking like frogs, after all.

"Nice catch," Maegi remarked, trying to muster as much enthusiasm as she could. "How many frogs have you captured?" What else was she going to say? Hopefully this conversation took a turn, lest she be stuck talking about frogs for the duration of the evening. Maybe she'd bring up another god. Sheogorath, perhaps?

It completely slipped the ghost's attention if Legs was anything less than enthusiastic about her frog story. She was asked how many frogs she had captured, but ghost dismissed it with a "Nyegh" that spoke of her disinterest in such quantities. Life was more than measuring how many frogs you had caught or comparing how many frogs you and your friends had caught.

Instead she looked back up at the moon for a linger moment and said, with surprising eloquence: "Legs, why am I different?" Legs was different, so surely she understood why the pale child would ask this question to her. With the expectance that Legs held the key and answers to all of her questions in tow written on her face the pale child looked back at the tutor, hoping to be taught.

The sound did nothing to change her mind, but what came next was a great surprise. Her ears swiveled forward, eyes widening slightly as she considered the question, bicolored gaze sweeping over the lines and curves of the girl before her. So absorbed in the meat of the query that her new nickname had escaped her completely.

"Why do you feel different, Spirit?" Maegi asked, cocking her head. "I don't think you're any different than anyone else who lives in the woods." A bit strange, perhaps. But not different. Not the kind of different she had thought herself growing up (and still now, as well).

Her question wasn't answered, of course. Wolves liked to play games -- or was Legs really the embodiment of one of the gods? Gods, surely, liked to play games too -- and it looked like Legs was no exception. It was a good question and one that made the ghost think for a little bit. Now that she thought of it, perhaps others were not so different. The caretaker was not that different, for she seemed to hear the voices at least to some degree. Perhaps it was not her, but the dark one who was different. Or perhaps they were all different.

So rather than answer the question, the spirit answered in the fashion of the game, respecting its rules: "Do you hear the voices whisper too?" It was not just because of the description of ghosts in stories and her resemblance in stark white fur that made the pale child think she was different, that she was between the spirit world and this one. It was also the voices and their whispers, and the way they lured her to sacred places for no apparent reason that she knew of.

"Yes," she answered. All my life. Her smile was genuine now, gazing fondly at the girl. "That doesn't make you different. It makes you special. The gods chose you. They speak to you. They don't speak to everyone." Both their mothers had heard the voices. Her father, too. But Ramsay had always seemed disconnected, and she wasn't at all sure about Euron.

Kove, yes, but what of the others? Mou? Moonshadow? It was a special gift that Spirit had been chosen for; her name was more than appropriate, in more than one way.

"What do they say to you?" Maegi asked. She wondered how much Daedric the girl knew, or whether she was so gifted that she had knowledge of it from birth. That thought made jealousy bloom in her stomach, but she quickly forced it down, knowing that the gods had their ways. If Spirit was indeed more connected than even Maegi herself, there was a reason.

It surprised the ghost that there was another who heard the voices whisper, and followed their trail. Not because she deemed herself special necessarily, but mostly because Legs seemed so, well, normal. The ghost wondered how many there were, or if maybe all wolves were able to hear the words but most chose to ignore them. Legs confirmed that the gods didn't speak to everyone, though the spirit considered she may just be saying that because she wanted to feel special, too.

Most whispers she heard were indecipherable, so the question was difficult to answer. "Uh, words." She didn't sound very interested in the words; the pale child did not actually know what any of the words meant, but it was not the words she was most interested in. "Trails to follow that bring Spirit places. Places with... bones, spirit things, god things, big stones." She looked to see if those were the same kind of words that Legs heard, if the gods brought her special places, too.

Maegi listened studiously, nodding as Spirit described her experiences. "Special places," she explained. "Those places are where the gods live. Where you can hear them speak the loudest. Where you can pray, and they will answer."

She tipped her muzzle upward, toward the moonlight filtering through the trees. "What do you think of the moon, Spirit?" Maegi asked. Perhaps this young, wise (in a way) one could give her the answers she sought. "I've never understood it, myself. What it does. . .what it's meant to do. To me, darkness is best. It lets ugly things like me hide in the shadows."

It could have been a self-deprecatory remark from anyone else, but Maegi said it in such a matter-of-fact fashion that it was almost a point of pride. Strange, that.

Special places. The spirit had already understood that the places were special; after all, she had followed the trails to them and had tested the bones that lay there. The words the Gods spoke were not always sensical, but the spirit did not need them to be. Life seemed boring if you would only follow higher deities' words. The crypticality of their words was perfect for the spirit, for it left her enough to puzzle. She wondered if Legs thought the same or if she preferred to ask the gods for the things that she wanted.

The question drew her from her thoughts and the spirit looked up to the moon once more. The word 'ugly' was a word that the spirit did not really understand, because its meaning had not been directly taught to her and she had heard it used in many different contexts. She did not instantly recognise it as a negative thing. She thought a moment before she said: "The moon makes us light up. Not just anyone, just us." She looked at Legs, stark white eyes searching for the mismatched ones of her counterpart and said: "Legs, don't you want to shine?" While skulking and sneaking was one of the spirit's specialties, she still loved to stand in the moonlight and shine. Sunlight lit up just anyone, but the moonlight saved its light for them alone.

She was hoping for something a bit more comprehensive, but to no avail. The answer was trite and juvenile; she should have expected it. Maegi glanced at her moonlit fur, affecting to ponder it--and then Spirit's question had her gaze snapping back, her ears perking in surprise.

Don't you want to shine? She was lost for words, momentarily, mouth moving infinitesimally with no sound. Then her face darkened, her eyes too, and she shook her head, definite. "No."

Something about the girl unsettled her. The dark one was merely annoying, but Spirit. . .there was wisdom in her. Perhaps it was greater than her own. Envy curled 'round her heart, snaring tendrils, and she turned away, stepping into the shadows at the edge of the clearing.

"I am dark, not light," Maegi replied, a pale blur in the void. "I am death, not life. I'd rather. . ." But she did want to shine. Just not in the literal fashion. Not under the moon and stars; she wanted to emit soft, pulsing, strange light, like the creatures in Fellglow Keep. Not a beacon, but a ghost. Mist--not clouds.

She let out a ragged sigh, not knowing what else to say, and padded off into the forest, fur bristling with unease.

The words were cryptic, and the spirit wondered what Legs was really thinking about. She was clearly not dark, and it was so painfully clear in every piece of her that the spirit felt a little sorry for Legs and her blindness. The spirit merely stared while Legs tried to put her thoughts into words and failed. Never judging, just staring.

Then, as if to illustrate her point, Legs vanished into the shadows and she was once more gone. The spirit looked to where Legs had disappeared and she then turned attention back to the clearing. The spirit stepped into the light again and looked at the moon. "Thank you, Moon," she said in a voice that was almost polite, and then she let out a series of short and long yips in the form of a song of sorts -- a song about knowing who and what you are, and being happy with it.