Noctisardor Bypass flora’s secret

Druid and Bracelet fell into a routine as the weeks passed and the evenings grew cooler, if not the days. This night, the small snake slithered away to hunt on her own. The young wolf did not stray far, knowing they would rendezvous at the log in an hour or so, as they always did. The instant Bracelet returned with a lump in her belly, the Sämling smilingly collected her and then set off on her own venture.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as Druid followed the winding waterway north through The Planting Grounds. As she crossed the open field, a misty rain began to fall, only to sputter out moments later. The temperature dropped a few more degrees for the brief rain shower and Druid reveled in it, drawing energy from the slight chill in the air.

She approached the woods over yonder and dropped her nose to the ground, eager to sniff out something to hunt. Druid knew her odds of catching anything were unlikely, though she still wanted to try. Cool rainwater tickled her nose as she brushed it along the forest floor, the damp amplifying the many scents here.

children were subjects of perpetual Brownian motion, always cross-questioning, always cross-examining. he was currently browsing the not-so-vicious real estate market, admiring property closer to the heart of noctisardor. afar, he noticed the snake-charmer pawing the earth.

miasma tempered with his heart at the thought of anything adjacent to the subject; childbed, mothers, innocence, what have you. he had avoided mothers and children insofar.

upon further inspection, druid boasted a grotesque tumor on one leg. as he stalked closer with a low gaze; did he make out a snake. as if some scaled lariat did the ophidian cling to the girl like a sticker. sniffing with surprise, “do you know you have a snake on your leg?”

Although thousands of odors threaded through her nose, she discovered nothing of particular promise. Druid paused thoughtfully, raising her head to peer through the woods. The distant call of a spring peeper tripped her memory, reminding her of Mahler’s story about the king of frogs. She turned partway, trying to remember the way to the muddy little brook the Graf had shown her, where the frogs purportedly sang with bellies full of berries.

A voice cut straight through her thoughts, causing Druid to jump and crouch in the space of a breath. For an instant, she thought it was Mahler, perhaps summoned here by her thoughts. But she quickly realized she was looking at a stranger who only shared a passing resemblance with the patriarch. She rearranged herself to face him more fully, her demeanor quite possibly coming across as aloof, though it was truly more timid than anything.

He had asked a question. Trying to steady her breathing and fluttering heartbeat, Druid replied, I know. She paused. This is Bracelet, she offered, and I’m Druid. She peered shyly through her lashes, a silent invitation for an introduction of his own.

drudin. she was well-mannered and seemed articulate, fine attributes that even the eyass had yet to conceive. he began with no evident mirth in his features, “your mother thinks you a soothsayer?” maybe, he had never thought to charm forest-adders as she had.

bracelet and druid. “astraeus. mahler’s son.” probably one of his only conciliatory traits when it came to rivenwood wolves, or sometimes his undoing, motherlessness being evidence. he would have been impressed the little girl found any likeness between them, looking paste his unruly coiffure and blackened skin. he forgot to mention to himself if it wasn’t the work of the placebo effect, a lie that had be a truth in reality. “how did you meet … bracelet?”

Her brow furrowed at the unfamiliar word, prompting Druid to cock her head. What did her mother have to do with anything? She glanced around briefly, then returned her gaze to the stranger’s face even as became a stranger no more.

Druid’s lips parted in surprise. This was Mahler’s son? Did that make him her brother? How come they had never met before? She wanted to ask him half a dozen questions, though her bashfulness stayed her tongue, as did Astraeus’s query about Bracelet.

I saw her hatch. She had lots of brothers and sisters. They all left, but Bracelet stayed with me, Druid explained. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she quickly asked, Are you really Mahler’s son?

9/26: I’m going to archive this since Astraeus is a PPC now, but if and when you’re ready, please just revive it and I’ll be more than happy to continue it!

hearing the wood-elf answer his questions faithfully with that of a naif charm and trembling nerve was stimulating. he was more keen on killing snakes, he had never knew they were born like birds. funny, how they were cursed to gulp the dust of the earth for all their days while birds could forget their gravitational tether at whim.

before he could ask druidin if she thought the ophidian envied the columbidae, before she startled him with her uncut words like a child screaming 'chutiya!' when the jenga tower falls while their amma is in the living area.

"...what?" he began, his back growing hot with a nervous sweat, "yes. i mean yes, he told me so," he whispered quietly as if he were caught in a lie, swallowing as the jahilian odes laden with want and motherlessness he sung for his dam in his first year came back to him.

He confirmed and Druid could only blink thoughtfully, wonderingly. Once she truly absorbed this information, she gave him a hesitant smile and an equally tentative wave of her tail. This made them relatives, at least of a sort.

Did he tell you about the frogs with berries in their bellies? she sincerely wondered. Perhaps he could join her and Bracelet on their quest to hunt some of these stuffed amphibians.

as the boy listened to druid's question he wistfully was reminded of mahler's affair with language, astraeus began to think if he had lost everything to would be his dearest love from the way he told his tales and even technicalities. "never," he shook his head softly and bent down closer to the girl to whisper, "if you can find the frogs with the berries in their bellies, i will sell you a word. a very special german word."

He claimed Mahler had never told him of these creatures straight out of a folktale. Druid’s lips pursed, her entire body going stiff when Astraeus leaned closer. He whispered something to her which made the girl flick her head sideways and give him an inscrutable look.

She didn’t know the meaning of this word “sell” but found herself afraid to admit that. Instead, Druid questioned, If I find them, will you help me catch one? Abruptly, she recalled, We need to bring them something, so they’ll tell us what they sing about. Come, she said simply, her soft command punctuated with a roll of thunder.

It was funny to consider: first, they needed to find a gift for the frogs, then she would be tasked with finding the critters. If they accepted her offer, she would learn their secrets… and Astraeus would give up his then, too. Then they could eat one of the frogs, if Druid could bring herself to dine on something right after conversing with it. She would walk away with a belly full of sweet frogs and a head full of secrets.