Silvertip Mountain There were no seasons in the cave

Gods, that wind is bitter, the bard cursed, squinting his eyes against the sweeping autumnal chill. The Taggerung did imagine that his settling to the mountain had shifted something. He did know better than to expect the warmth of summer sun to last on the peaks.

Gazing out at Ursus, Tagg wondered what might be in store for him with the coming snow, the movement of prey, the clutch of winter. If he could help it, the bard thought he would like to make a cozy den for himself.

With that in mind, he set out in search of a hole in the mountain.

Her own herb den was hidden within the stone of the mountain. She was on her way to deposit some lavender she had found on her trip outside the borders today. The weather had started to change already, and she knew she would need to have enough plants stored for winter. It was a hard thing to do when she didn't yet know what all was useful and what wasn't. But she had stocked many different things, ready to experiment whenever her novice skills were needed.

A voice broke through her thoughts. Arielle paused and sniffed the air. Then she followed her packmates scent until she found him exploring the mountain. He appeared to be alone, and she looked at him curiously as she dropped the lavender next to her paws. Who were you talking to?

A dark figure had approached him while he had not been paying attention. The Taggerung spun slightly to draw the unfamiliar wolf into his gaze. He offered her a cheery smile and a wave of his golden tail, a friendly display.

For several long seconds, he had not realized she had been asking him who he had spoken to. The Taggerung balked for only a moment before he laughed and shook his head. Only myself, dear lady, only myself. I find at times, I am the best company I’ve got.

The bard offered another chuckle, thinking himself rather amusing.

She studied him a few moments as he answered her question. He seemed to prefer his own company at times, which she could understand; she wasn't the most social wolf, usually preferring to be alone while she entertained the many thoughts moving through her brain. She had spent much time alone as a child, and because of that, had learned to process things on her own. 

But she never spoke aloud to herself. As she did with most things, she found herself curious to know more about this packmate. He was awfully cheery, which she also thought was odd, but to each their own. Yeah, I know what you mean, she finally replied. Then she dipped her head, careful not to meet his gaze. I'm Arielle, she offered.

The young woman bowed her head to him, not allowing her gaze to meet his in the way that many offered submissively. The Taggerung gawked at her for a moment, rather stunned that anyone would show him that kind of respect. When he realized that he was standing like a fool with his mouth half-open, the bard shook his head and issued a nervous chuckle.

Oh there’s no need for any of that nonsense, he assured her, referring to the show of submission. Lady Arielle, I am called the Taggerung. If he had not only just met her, he might have offered her a story of a young woman with a similar name – the huntress Auriel.

As far as she could remember, no one had ever commented on her instinctual submission. It was just part of who she was; she didn't know how not to defer to her packmates. She straightened up a little, although she was unable keep from averting her gaze. 

The Taggerung, she repeated, nodding as she spoke. She gestured to the bundle of plants at her feet. I was going to drop these off at my herb den, she explained. If you'd like to join me, you can, The healer offered. You can tell me more about yourself on the way? if he wanted to, of course.

The dark woman shifted slightly, but she did not draw her gaze up to meet his. The bard did not wish to press the matter with her. It was far better that she was comfortable than it was for the Taggerung to dismiss formal culture. Besides, the wolf Arielle was still a pleasant sort and Tagg did not fear that she would leave him feeling as though he’d wasted his time. An introduction with a new packmate was precisely what he needed.

Why I would love to accompany you. I know very little about herbal remedies, you know. Perhaps you could share some of your wisdom with me and I shall help you carry those, the Taggerung remarked with a chipper tone and a nod toward her leaves. He did not mind, of course. In fact, he rather imagined they could take turns sharing about themselves.

A shy smile curved her lips as he offered to help carry the plants she had brought with her. Thanks, she said softly, reaching down to grab half the pile and waiting for Taggerung to do the same. I'm still learning how to use plants, she added. But I can try and answer questions if you have them.

Assuming he was ready to go, Arielle began to walk again. She was quiet for a few moments before asking: What is your favorite scent? The normal questions had all seemed boring. She didn't want to ask where he was from or what he liked to do. This was a more personal question. It would help her know more about mind hopefully.

The Taggerung scooped up the remaining herbs in his mouth and nodded to Arielle. The dark figure even offered a humble statement regarding her ability, that she was still learning and that she would try to answer any questions the bard might have.

When Tagg was just about to inquire about an herb that might ease a nasty toothache, Arielle asked him a lovely question. The bard tilted his head with curious merriment in his gaze, a small laugh bubbling from behind the herbs he held. I think I rather like the smell of maple wood, he answered her in a bubbly tone. What about you?

Interesting, she said, turning the words over in her head to see if a scent came from her memory. Unfortunately, she didn't remember a lot of specifics from her childhood, so nothing came to mind. 

She had more questions about his favorite scent, but he beat her to it, asking her the same question in response. Hmmm, she said absently. I think it's the smell of the wet grass early in the morning. For some reason the smell was comforting to her. If it was the first thing to fill her nose upon waking, she knew it would be a good day. 

I don't think I know what maple wood smells like, she added. Can you describe it?

The woman Arielle was softly spoken, mulling the Taggerung’s answer over in her mind as though she could conjure the fragrance that he referenced with sheer force of thought. The bard thought it was a valuable trait, to speak to someone who so adamantly listened.

When asked about her favorite scent, she said that she enjoyed the smell of wet grass in the early hours of the morning. The Taggerung hummed softly at this, recalling the very aroma with a fond smile and nod of his head. A lovely smell, very good choice.

With some surprise, Arielle then asked the Taggerung if he could describe the scent of maple wood. The bard blinked at her a few times and then gazed thoughtfully at the path they walked on. It’s quite sweet smelling, earthy in a way. It carries with it the feeling of warmth and autumn. To me, at least…

Arielle smiled a little at his comment, liking that he seemed to enjoy the smell of the wet grass too. Yes it is, she answered back.

When he explained what maple wood smelled like, she tried to imagine the combination of earthy and sweet in her head. She thought the two scents would go well together. You'll have to show the next time you find a maple tree, she suggested. It wasn't enough to just imagine it; she wanted to actually know for herself. She wanted to see what feelings the scents would inspire within her. This made her turn her head to him, eyes cast down, but a thoughtful and curious expression on her face. Isn't it interesting how closely scent is tied to our emotions? The smell of certain things seemed to conjure up more intense emotions than even the memory itself.

The path curved then, and she followed it, knowing they were close to where she stored her plants.

It was rather difficult to explain why the Taggerung had believed the members of Ursus would be very much like their leader, Cluny. The one-eyed devil was a remarkable thing, of course, but there was something decidedly unhinged in the man’s mind. Now, maybe it had been the fluttering wings of childish fears that had caused him to think poorly of the other members. Nevertheless, as he walked alongside the pleasant company Arielle, Tagg couldn’t help but wonder how she ended up following Cluny the Scourge.

Oh, you’ll be the first to know, madam. I will summon you at once so that you too can try the sweet fragrance of maple wood, the Taggerung promised her with a sound bob, a firm nod of his head. He would be sure to follow that promise through, but he had not happened upon many maple woods in some time.

Arielle commented on the importance of scent and emotion. The bard looked to her with a gaping mouth, pleasantly surprised by the fun fact she’d shared. I wasn’t aware of such things. How do they compliment each other, do tell me. The golden wolf would be sure to listen to every word she shared.

Arielle's face brightened and a grateful smile curved her lips. Thank you, she said softly. I would like that very much. She was, of course, unaware of the questions swirling around in his mind, but if she was, she might have pointed out that maybe they were all a little unhinged in their own ways. 

She was surprised to hear that he didn't know of this link she had mentioned. She assumed everyone had feelings tied to the scents they took the time to think about. But she was happy to expand on the subject for him. Well, when I smell dewy grass in the early morning, it makes me feel peaceful. I feel calm when I smell lavender. And when I scent the air, heavy with moisture, just before a storm, I feel excited, she explained. Those scents always make me feel that way. She glanced over at him. How does your favorite scent make you feel? she asked, curious now if he had the same reaction of if she was just some strange anomaly.

The Taggerung rather enjoyed the way that Arielle described how she felt when faced with one of her favorite fragrances. In this explanation, the bard understood a little better what she had meant. Emotions were closely tied to the scents around living creatures. Aroma, he had found, was a powerful way to trigger memories.

You know that’s quite lovely, your description, the bard complimented her with a cheery smile. I think when I smell a maple wood, a whole forest of maple trees, well… I feel at home.

The Taggerung thought quietly of the Farthing Wood where he had been born. He thought of the rich maple leaves that had fluttered around him as a boy. There were some days when he missed the forest of his birth, the wolves who lived there. The further he wandered, the more he felt sick for his home. What a curious sensation, he thought.

Maybe you could tell me more of your favorite smells? I’d like to come up with a story, perhaps…

She smiled in response to his compliment, glad he was so interested in her theory how closely linked smell and emotion were. He next told her that his favorite smell made him feel at home. She wanted to ask if these trees were plentiful in his home before Ursus, even more intrigued by the pale man by the minute. 

But he had moved on, asking for more of her favorite scents and how they made her feel. He apparently wanted to make a story, and she was happy to oblige. Running water, she said first. It smells different than a lake or pond where the water is stagnant. She was sure he would also know the distinction, although it might smell differently to him. It always puts me in a playful mood, maybe because I always want to jump in. She chuckled a little at the thought. 

Her face turned more serious then as she continued. But the smell of fire makes me feel uneasy. It was for a good reason; fire was destructive. The smell of decay makes me anxious, Arielle told him next. But the smell of stone baking under the sun is relaxing. It makes me want to bake in the sun too. She was thin in body and coat, so the sun was never unwelcome. 

What kind of story will you make with these? she asked next, her gaze searching his face, careful still not to meet his eyes.

Arielle was quick to oblige, offering him more examples of fragrances that triggered specific emotional responses for her. The Taggerung listened intently, his mind churning words over and over until he believed that he had a good idea of what kind of tale he could create based on such things. It thrilled him. The bard grinned and his hips swung from side to side with the sway of his tail.

She wished to know what kind of story he might make with the things she had told him. The Taggerung looked to her, his eye squinted and his grin crooked.

There was once a huntress called Vaerin who was known for her sharp nose and keen eyes. I think it would be rather fun to tell a tale of the huntress without the ability to see, the bard answered with a soft chuckle. To be tested by the gods, her sight will be stolen from her and she must find her way through a maze of wilderness by scent alone. Imagine what an adventure! The Taggerung was thoroughly overjoyed with the premise.

They finally arrived at her den as he told her of Vaerin the huntress and his plan to create a story about her losing her sight as a test from the gods. It sounded like an intriguing story, one she would very much like to hear. 

She walked inside the cave and deposited the flowers she was carrying in a pile with a few other flowers. You can put that here, she told him. Then she walked over and sat on her bed of leaves and grass. Do you need time to create this story, or can you tell it to me now? Arielle asked. I would love to hear it either way. Finally, she chanced a glance up to meet his gaze, smiling and quickly lowering her eyes again.

The Taggerung placed the items down where she had instructed him to and breathed a soft sigh. It had been nice to help another member of the pack, one who was softer in tone than the one-eyed leader. The time that he had spent with Arielle had been thoroughly enjoyable. If he could have helped it, he would have liked to stay there a while longer – there was a desire to get to know more of the she-wolf.

Well, I do think I could come up with something on the spot, yes, he admitted thoughtfully. The Taggerung cast her a crinkled grin and laughed. I would want it to be a good one, though, especially when you’re the one who’s given me the inspiration.

Bouncing back and forth upon his paws, the Taggerung hummed softly until he felt he had enough to share a story. Alright, let’s give it a try then. You’ll let me know if it’s dreadful, yes?

Arielle smiled when the bard spoke of her inspiring him to create a story. I've never inspired anyone before, she told him. Not that she knew of, anyway. 

Her face grew more serious when he spoke again, asking if she would tell him if his story was dreadful. I don't know if I would be so harsh, but I can let you know if I have any suggestions that could make it better. Even if it was dreadful, she wouldn't tell him that, not after he went though the trouble of making up a story just for her.