Neverwinter Forest Monza

 @Dutch  - my 100th thread with Dwin!

Dwin had not forgotten her promise to put effort in finding Ponyboy and his girlfriend. One problem was that they had been gone for a little over than a month now. It felt as if they had disappeared the surface of the Earth completley. The other - she realized, how very big the world actually was. While staying within the safe confines of caldera, it was easy to imagine conquering the world. Once you got out of it, you found out that the scale was massive. A speck of dust could not take the planet. 

There was a little consolation in the fact that at least she was giving a try in an impossible task and return home with clear conscience. Again she left Sylvie to explore the nearby forest and see, if there was anything useful for them to snack on. Food - as it was usual in winter - was not a light find and they had gone hungry for one or two days in the row. If they intended to cover even more ground, they had to have fuel to burn. 

Spring felt like a distant dream upon the glacier. There were times when the cold got even to him — although this was usually remedied by a nap just long enough to thaw his toes. It was different down below, where the Neverwinter Forest was still untouched by snow. It was a stubborn woodland, Dutch thought, gazing up at the dense canopy. Laden with snow, the boughs didn't let in as much light as usual, but it was still a warm and welcoming place.

It was high time he visited Valiant, he thought, but he was all too easily waylaid when he came across another's scent. Passing travelers were always of interest to him. They often had stories they were eager to tell, and Dutch was ever the eager listener.

"Peace be," he called when he found the trail's end, and the grayscale wolf it led to. Then, "Would you mind some company?" he asked as he drew near.

Dwin had not seen the man coming, therefore his greeting came as a surprise. She jumped, she bristled and eyed the stranger distrustfully, until his words sank in and his body-language assured that he meant no harm for now and was simply curious for the newcomer in the area. He was a good-looking man: tall, well-built, he radiated calm confidence and his eyes were in the flaming colours of the sunset. Unlike the embarrassing encounter with Andr, this time her rationality had an iron grip on, what was a favourable first impression of a man. This happened very rarely. 

"Greetings to the fellow traveller," she returned with a polite dip of her muzzle, her gaze never leaving his face. She also took a step back, wishing to keep the distance between them comfortable for her. "Depends on many things. Do you consider yourself as good company?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and offering him a charming smile. 

Favorable indeed — the panther was charmed to be addressed as a fellow traveler. He carried now the scent of the glacier pack, but he liked to imagine his wayfaring routes had left some tangible mark upon him. This wolf seemed to see it, and so he was eager to at least make her acquaintance.

"Without being too vain," said Dutch, coming to a halt as soon as the young woman stepped back, "I consider myself positively enchanting. The crème de la crème. A prince among men."

But the smile he offered invited her to laugh at this.

"My name's Dutch," he said, and he looked over his shoulder at the dark of the woods. He knew he could find his way back by scent, but he was not all that sure he was pointing in exactly the right direction when he told her, "I came down from the glacier pack. Morningsong. That way."

His head swiveled back to her, burnished gaze bright and curious. He hoped she would fill the silence with her name and origin, but he was ready too for his conversational skills to be further put to the test.

"Aaah... princes do not convince me. The last one I met was and still is kind of a bastard," Dwin referred to Ingram. "But even so, he is an interesting company. Very. You have a chance, however, to redeem the good name of the princes and change my opinion," she gave him a toothy grin. 

"Name's Dwin and I wear the scents and magic of Brecheliant proudly," she introduced herself and even made a little bow. "So - prince of Morningsong - what is your story of valiance and bravery?" she asked, sitting down and tilting her head to the side, while her green gaze studied the man's complexion 

"Impress me well and I will reveal some secrets of the sacred haghood," she offered.

The panther startled himself with another laugh.

"No — I think you are right to be wary of princes," he told her, only halfway joking. A smile lingered on his dark muzzle, but he meant it when he went on: "I never trusted the one my sister took up with — not that he hung around long enough to get to know."

His nostrils flared and twitched.

"I would much rather hear about Brecheliant," he said, still earnest. "I will certainly share whatever information necessary in exchange. My deeds of daring do are hardly Arthurian — but I'm sure I have a thrilling tale or two that might earn me your favor. But only if said favor is necessary to get a story out of you."

So sorry for the long wait and the dragged out thread. I have so much writing to do for work related stuff that I really do not have anything in me to write in my free time. :D

"Stories are the currency we use in Brecheliant. Food is amazing, of course, but a good story oftentimes can fill a void in one's hear that food cannot," Dwin replied, surprised at her own eloquence with words, because  usually ideas sounded so much better in her mind than, when she decided to put them in words. Maybe she had inherited more talent in this trade than she had realized. 

"It began out as as a magical forest for wolves of story-teller trade to dwell and find refuge in. But as all magic in this world, in order to keep balance, for every couple of spells and miracles, it claimed lives of wolves. My aunt - Wraen - who was a master story-teller in her lifetime is buried there and, while she does not have a ghostly presence there, when you take a seat near her final resting place, close your eyes and listen, you can feel that supernatural world so, so close as if you could just reach out and touch it," she told. 

"But my parents and the rest of the pack decided that two lives claimed is a bit of steep price to pay to stay in one place. Therefore they moved to my father's childhood home. They kept the name and the story-telling tradition, but I think that... looking at, how things have unfolded over the years, it is not so much the place that is to blame, but the particular magic that my folk have entagled themselves in it. Because again - the forest has claimed a life - and it sometimes feels as if this is a fate we will never escape. Imagination, creativity and a knack for seeing the otherworldly just runs in the family. It may have been a gift to one of our ancestors a long, long time ago, but they could not have realized, what it would mean for the future generations," Dwin said. She had come up with this on the spot. Again - surprising even for herself. 

"Scared?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and offering the man a devillish grin.