keskiyö

^^One moment he'd been snuggled under a tree, tired and dream-drowsey, hearing some ancient song - tule kotiin, in a voice he'd only heard in his dreams. The next, he'd heard a voice more urgent - just in his ear, loud enough he was sure of the tone. isoäiti — grandmother but then she was gone. He'd never known her, anyways, not in anything but the stories he'd heard. The Enok spoke of her with both mirth and ire in equal measure. When his eyes opened he realized that the tangled roots he'd slept under were gone and he felt exposed.

Instead, everything felt different; the air itself smelled different.

He was shocked by the feeling and the knowledge that these peaks were utterly different than those that he saw more often. There was no scent of the familiar family members that came and went as they were apt to do. There was nothing but the scent that somehow to him smelled of wet earth, of the sterility of cold, and Eira let out a sound of disdain. “Mahdotonta — Impossible..” The bear stood and shoot his coat out, peering through the darkness as his gaze adjusted in the midnight moon's light.


^^

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the tundra has never left her tired;
but she is tired, and she is expectant.

even she knew that a few days' time away meant that there were those who surely wandered her claim; wound themselves through it, unchecked by too few eyes, and unrivaled with the strength of numbers she is still without. sour shame still squats in her gut, hunched and surly. ... but the silver knows better than to let herself stew in self-misery about it, and instead, as the alpine arms of cloudrest open to embrace her from the frigid norths once more, she turns from them, and sets about replenishing where her weak borders have staled.

she is tired, and wished to retire early;
but when she hears his voice, the nightingale follows it instinctively, migratory. shoulders her way through autumnal bud and briar, wilder still. moss-grown, snowshoe paws dirtied; peers around the trunk of a reseeded tree and finds him staring all around at her mountainsides and cliffs carved out by slow creation. looking at everything as if it is so painfully familiar. and not. had he been ... reordered? remade?

"tämä maa on päättänyt paljastaa itsensä sinulle,"  — this land has chosen to reveal itself to you.of that much she was sure; given that there were many a wanderer and yet none who seemed to let themselves be filled through to their bones, their marrow, in a magnificent moment such as this. the fairylight touches her way down the path towards the giant rose; her mirrorbright eyes checking all the places in between his breast and ribs for safety. for unbruised and unbroken skin bleeding beneath his fur.

as far as she could tell, though, he did not seem terribly ailing.[/narrow]

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^^
What surprised him wasn't how quickly he was found. He was in an area that had smelled heavily of a few certain scents - if he was a betting man, he'd have assumed that she was the source of it. It was her voice. Her tongue that surprised him, but then, he'd muttered something in Enok if memory served correctly and the bear could only stare at her dumbfounded for a moment before he caught himself. The silverslyph didn't need to be gawked at. “Kielesi, se laulaa minulle.” — Your tongue, it sings to me. He said it with a voice that almost stroked along the spine, silky, surprisingly so, for a man his size.

He offered her a nod before his gaze shifted around the area. “Where is this place?” Eira asked. He was a man who tended to go straight to the point, without just lingering or chasing geese. He just didn't like the games other played. “I'm Eira.” He held his last name - although not many of the Fearghal traits lingered in him after his father's particular style of raising, but, protecting the Family was one. He would hold his name and keep them safe, even if they weren't here.^^

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she hoped hers was a song well-heard; sensitive, stout ears flicking either which way at the soothing tone of his own voice that tempted the thick, glossed ridge down her back to rippled. she stamped such a thing down, of course, in favor of his inquiry. she knew that the season has half-bereaved them of green and had yet to gift them with true snowfall; and she knew that despite that, theirs would be the first of this limnal region that the northern winds would billow down upon. however: "en tiedä tämän ... maailman nimeä,"  — i do not know the name of this ... world.nor did she ever wish to. she had not known the one she had walked last  — "mutta tämä on pilvisin: joissa seuraajani juoksevat rinnallani. olen juuri tullut tundralta." — but this is cloudrest: the lands where my followers run at my side. i have just returned from the tundra.

and what of her name?

more often than not, aėrith sounded less and less what she'd like to be presented as. had her now-formless, faceless, mouthless husband, with his myriad callings, ever felt this way? this need to change his name the way one changes stoles, or snares? she hopes he has long since shed whatever sorrow she'd left him with, if there'd been a name she'd given him, too; and her lips pressed together in something thin and uncertain, "olen ...kuunhekku,"  — i am ...moon-glow.hoping that she does not dishonor him in her lending such a given title so freely. it would have to suffice for now, though; whether his gods came to condemn her once more remained to be seen.

she'd meet them with her fangs, all the same. why not?[/narrow]

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^^Cloudrest. It was a place that spoke it's meaning quickly - touched by the heavens, this soft kiss in a sense, dusted just from the heavens. He smiled at the title of the lands but waited to be given her name or title. He might have detected a hint of something - uncertainty, questioning on her frame, and he wondered what was the cause of her discomfort so. “Hyvin tavattu” — Well met He bowed his head to her, polite as he'd been taught to be in accordance with his family's belief. “This happens to everyone, then?” The whole notion of people just....waking somewhere, because this absolutely was not where he had fallen asleep.

He didn't particularly care for the notion of losing his family, but, he was capable of holding his tongue and his emotions well enough. He wasn't quite to the skill of some of his siblings - or his grandmother, in his father's stories- and alone he might have been more perturbed. His gaze turned from the moondrop towards the surrounding lands, surveying the claim that she'd made for herself in a way to see where he might fit into it. “I appreciate your kindness, others might have run me down immediately for encroaching.” He knew that, too. ^^

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was it kindness? with how severely she's been acting of late, it had become hard for her to tell.

...but perhaps it was her encounter with little helcaraxë that gentled her frigid, heart-froze self enough to interact with this aiano in a way that was less commanding and more civilized. to tolerate, as she knew she had no choice but to: theirs was a bordering realm, was it not? in part, it feels strange  —  returning herself to politeness, when so much more could be settled with the prick of her fangs at the tender ear or straining throat of another. it is like her, and as her once upon a time of court and company had been, and ...not.

the space next to her feels too empty.

"niin näyttäisi,"  — so it would seemfinding herself with a fluttery bob of her throat before she nods in custom kind. "meillä on ollut joitakin, jotka ovat heränneet sumuissamme, kuten sinäkin. toiset, lähetetty taivaalta tai löydetty rannalle,"  — we have had some who have woken in our mists, as you have. others, sent from the sky, or found ashoreyet did not give tell of her own arrival  ( seeing as everything known and still veiled to her behind it did not make good first impressions and left her so undone ). instead, she admits:  "minä olen näiden hölmöjen sotaherra,"  — I am the sotaherra of these wealdsstepping nearer with an absent, careful sniff his way,  "ja olet yhtä kaukana kuin muutkin, kuten ... minä  —  ei?" — and you are as faraway as the rest, as ...myself  —  no?

what went unspoken was what failed her tongue, then;
stout ears curving back, tail feathering an uncertain arc.[/narrow]

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^^What struck him the most surely was her title. Warlord. He might have been carved for a similar fate by his build, but it was rarely blood that he craved. “Ja sinulla on sota?” — And have you wars? He asked her curiously, his gaze on her not critical but one that was curious. It was harrowing to suddenly feel so alone and yet not - at least she understood his feeling, although they hadn't put it to words. He had worn many masks and kept many faces but this was unlike anything that he had ever experienced. It wasn't a mere tale meant to settle an unruly cub for bed. This was curious, and it forged a worry in him that he had never known before.

Here might prove to be a paradise or it might prove to be a cursed land, but, Eira had never known any wickedness to claim him. “Perheeni - kaikki mitä tiesin, se on poissa.” — My family - all I knew, is gone. It felt like some great betrayal to just accept it but Eira had been raised by a man who had seen great sadness and loss so early. It had clutched at Ceallach and warped how he raised his own young. It felt like the wind was still taken from him and his lungs burned with the desire to taste their scents again - just one more draw of his nose buried in his mother's thick fur, or his siblings at night, clustered all together still even in their adulthood.

“Jos kohtalo lähetti minut tänne, ansaitsen henkeni.” — If fate sent me here, I will earn my life. He didn't know what that would mean exactly or how he would ensure his keep, but, it was a promise he didn't make without some consideration. Even a known enemy is better than the unknown, after all, and what he felt of the woman wasn't a wickedness. There was something there unfettered and unchecked and Eira was curious to know more.^^

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his question elicited a short laugh from her:  "ei jos siihen on järkevä syy,"  — not if there is sound reason topeering with an appraising squint around her eyes at the great rose as she again came nearer.  "vaikka meillä olisi legionin voima, emme ryntäisi sokeasti yhteen näyttelemään sitä."  — even if we did have the strength of a legion, we would not rush blindly into one to make a show of itsurely he knew that as much as she; but it wasn't so much a reprimand as it was a reminder. of what, she did not entirely know. perhaps one that she absently hoped solidified any misapprehensions he had had of her so far  —  of her bearing, and the title that she rather show through her ways than mere words.

she could say nothing, though, to his next; could and would not bring herself to vocally share yet in the sorrow that ran itself through his features and doubtless his heart. ...but she was not unkind, and drew alongside him to press her shoulder solidly against his ribs whether he was  ( metaphorically )  winded or no; if only for him to know that she was as real to him as he was to her; as much as the earth beneath their paws, and that they did not drift over this land as specters.

for now, anyways.

his offering was something that made a musing rumble of approval gutter up from between her lungs and her throat, and the sotaherra parts from him with a decided nip at his flank.  "silloin tunnet minut riannon, ja juokset kansani kanssa,"  — then you will know me as riannon, and run with my peopleand what she hoped would grow into something more than just the current scattering of them that they had.

it made no matter if he was not a solider, either;
even the heart-felt and humble had their uses.[/narrow]

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