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 Posted: Wed Jan 06, 2016 9:43 am
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“Hey!” Nostalion calls, running after the spooked mare. “It’s alright, you aren’t going to be burned… or buried!”
He slides to a stop, narrowly avoiding a collision at the fork in the path.
“Humans use fire to warm themselves when they are cold.” Nostalion tells Lihi in a calm, even voice. “And one taught me, some time ago, how to do the same.”
He nudges her and adds, “It’s only a small fire, totally harmless… and the cave’s not collapsing tonight. The weather is too mild.”
Nostalion chuckles, “Come along now. Let's get you settled in and warmed up before the fire goes out.” |
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Posted: Fri Jan 08, 2016 7:32 pm
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“Great spirits?” The stallion breaks into a hearty laugh as he leads the way back toward their original destination. “Hardly. I’m just another soquili.” He walks in silence for a moment, carefully picking his words, this time. Considering Lihi’s earlier reactions, he wants to be clear this time. “Fire doesn’t have to be magic. For the humans it’s a trifle, a trick that even their young learn to master from an early age.” He pauses again, although he hasn't ventured that far from the grove in some time the memories are clear in his mind, as though it were yesterday.
“Maybe it’s their culture or just their naturally dexterous forelimbs with all those wiggly things they call fingers.” He shudders. “Fire is actually a really simple thing to understand when you take time to observe it. It’s easily created and controlled.” He quickly adds, “It’s disingenuous to call it harmless, but it is perfectly safe as long as you are careful.”
The strangely sweet scent given off by the small fire is quite strong now and he continues, “the humans have various tools and tricks for quickly creating a spark or a small flame, but all you really need to do is to rub two dry pieces of wood together until they start to burn… and to feed that tiny fire with more dry wood, moss, or grass and such.” |
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Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 8:58 am
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“I guess it’s the colder climate,” Nostalion nods. “The human tribes in this area make a fire every time they stop to rest. When the West winds blow, you can smell the smoke of their cooking fires all the way out here.” The natural skylights are fewer and less frequent, now. Not that it matters, as the sun has fallen below the horizon.
“I actually learned some of their techniques by observing one, up close. In fact, I had occasion to share this very cave with a human some time ago.” He pauses before adding, “there are no humans here now, to my knowledge, and communication between us was impossible beyond gesture.”
A soft light flickers ahead, illuminating the smooth cave walls. |
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Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 9:20 am
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"The two legs try to communicate with you? Most of the ones in my area seem to think my herd are simple animals, useful but stupid. A few traders come, sometimes, and treat us with respect. But the others laugh at them. We mostly stay away from them, it is said they used to try and snare us, enslave us to carry their things. But that was generations ago."
As the light from the fire becomes more visible, Lihi slows, marveling. "It is night, yet there is light. This is the fire? I . . . " Shaking her head, her voice quieter. "You must think me simple, not to know of such things." Shivering slightly, she once more moves closer to Nostalion. |
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Posted: Fri Feb 05, 2016 6:54 pm
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“Not often,” Nostalion shakes his head. “We met while taking refuge from the storm and didn’t have much else to do, cooped up in here, waiting for it to pass.”
He stares at Lihi for moment, “I don’t know how anyone could mistake you for a simple animal.”
A dimly lit dusty chamber opens before them. Light from the flickering orange campfire dances over cave paintings on the walls to seemingly bringing them to life. The walls are adorned with feathers and beads on webbed strings of leather and sinew.
“Tell me more of your lands,” Nostalion inquires, placing the basket of apples alongside the various other woven baskets lining the walls. He prods the glowing embers with a slender, charred stick before depositing another small, dry log onto the fire.
“Here it is,” retrieving a curled piece of fragrant, ochre colored bark from a basket, he gives it a sniff before offering it to the mare. “I had to trade a dozen baskets of the finest apples in the orchard for a small bag of that.” He brims, “The soquili I acquired it from claimed that they brought it from the other side of the ocean, and only that they were only accepting the apples for it because they were the best apples that they had ever tasted.”
Nostalion splits a couple apples and skewers them with a forked stick. “Once the apples soften, we’ll sprinkle them with powdered bark. Trust me on this, it’s delicious,” he holds the apples over the fire still grinning from ear to ear. |
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Posted: Sun Feb 07, 2016 12:36 am
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She sniffs the proffered bark and hums lightly, "It smells very interesting. And . . . you are putting the food in the fire? I . . . will try it, though it seems odd."
Shrugging, she takes a moment to look around the cave, using the movement as a chance to try and gather herself again so she can try to overcome the absolute wonder and awe and talk with him on a normal level again.
"My home . . ." She says to one particularly interesting painting. "It is . . . very different. The ground is much more sand, even in the orchard, there is sand. And there are beaches, where the ocean rolls onto white sand and birds cry as they circle looking for the little water insects in strange shells. It's an interesting place and the breezes smell of distant lands. And the palm trees, which grow very high and just have a crown of huge leaves at the top, sway in the winds. The two-legs make all kind of interesting things from those huge leaves."
"The orchard is half a day's walk from the ocean beaches, but it is still very sandy, but with dirt too, so the trees can grow. Orange trees are lower than apple trees and have a great many branches spreading wide. In the summer the blossoms are like white stars in the deep green of the trees. Bees bumble between the trees and everything smells like life."
"Then the summer gets warmer and the fruit develops, and they're small and green and hard at first, but they lighten to yellow, then to orange as the rippen, getting bigger and softer and full of juice and they smell like heaven. And you don't even need water when the oranges are ripe because they're filled with so much sweet juice that it explodes in your mouth."
"And then there are the rains. Almost every day it rains, and you know what season it is just by how the rain falls. Gentle and warm or like an icy waterfall, or . . . the rains are all the same but always different. But they can be dangerous too. We get storms . . . storms so big they last for days with water that can come inland for miles and miles. And they was the unwary out to sea or against the trees, breaking bodies. The really bad storms can destroy the crops of the orchard for the year, split trees and destroy so much. But they also wash in seaweed and odd treasure and . . . "
She shivers slightly, "It's scary, but when you've weathered a storm . . . it helps you to see everything again, to appreciate what you have and why it's all important. And then everyone works together, rivalries are put aside and old friendships are reawakened as we pull together to clear debris, take care of the wounded, and save the trees and the harvest."
"My father is very respected in the herd. He leads after the storms, gathering everyone and assigning tasks to those as they are best suited. He is very strong and good and knows the best ways to recover and help the grove grow healthy again."
"My mother used to lead during peace times, when I was a filly. But she was caught in a storm and pulled out to sea. Now my aunt leads between the storms and her mate leads the traders. I mostly stay in the grove helping by pollinating trees, from across the grove so the sweetest and heartiest oranges are encouraged."
"And when it gets too cold, when little ice crystals threaten too late, after the flowers have bloomed, we all get together to warm the trees, circling the most precious and breathing all night on the tiny flowers. And we sing as we breath, these great swelling songs of light and spring and warmth." She shakes her head, dropping it to study the floor, suddenly homesick. Not that she had been seeing the cave paintings for the last little bit anyway.
Her voice soft, "I told my cousin I was going to find apples but . . . I didn't know how far they would be. I've been gone for so long and I've gotten lost. I don't even know how to find home again. I wonder if they sent blossoms on the waves for me, like they did for my mother."
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Posted: Sun Feb 07, 2016 9:00 pm
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Posted: Thu Feb 18, 2016 12:31 pm
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Posted: Thu Feb 18, 2016 6:48 pm
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Lihi watches him cooking the apples, wonder and curiosity overcoming her fear. A slight shrug at the question, "I think it's been a couple months. I've lost track of the days, to be honest. I . . . I don't think I'd have been allowed to leave if I'd spoken with my father. Which is why I didn't. I guess he wouldn't have been wrong. I don't know what I'm doing out here."
A small smile, "I love the grove, it is amazing and I miss it. I didn't really appreciate it before, but . . . there's so much away from home that isn't what I expected. And, it would be nice to have you come visit. I think you would like oranges too. They aren't like apples, which are firmer and more tart."
At his other questions her smile grows, "The palm trees, that's what they're called. Most of them don't bear fruit, but a few of them do. There are two kinds of fruit ones. Ones that make a fruit that's . . . it's kind of between an orange and an apple, actually. It's more firm than an orange, with a thinner skin, but softer than an apple. And they're sweet. The other fruit . . . it's very hard. It takes a lot to break one open, they're kind of like rocks on the outside. But inside they have a . . . milk almost. It's very sweet. And a soft, crunchy fruity bit around the hollow where the milk is. It doesn't taste like most fruits, it almost nutty. But there are only a couple of those trees near enough to us to harvest so they are rare treats and a lot of work to open."
A small giggle. "Do you not pollinate here? Bees do it on their own, but they don't think about which trees should fruit together. So when we want two trees to have fruits meld, we take some of the flowers from one to the trees to the other tree and shake the dust from the flowers onto the flower branches. And it marries the two fruit's properties some. Sometimes, if a good tree is damaged too far in a storm, we harvest what we can of still living branches, make cuts in another tree, and lash the good branches into the other tree, it can save the fruit if you do it right. I've watched a few times, started training. But it is very delicate and if you don't do it right, you can kill the host tree too and lose both trees."
Pandora Talie Congratulations on 100! I'm happy to rp more often, and the trip back could be fun. I rp for rp, not the stats, those are just a bonus.
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Posted: Wed Mar 09, 2016 5:58 am
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“You’re exploring,” Nostalion nods, his leafy mane-now dry-rustles as he moves in the toasty little cave. Perhaps it’s something in the air or maybe he’s just tired, “the idea of visiting unfamiliar places excites me. I always thought that I couldn’t actually leave this place because it needed my protection, but I think I was really just using it as an excuse to avoid the great unknown.” The big brown stallion hangs his head, for just a moment before the smell of cooked apples rouses him.
“Let’s go,” he smiles. “Not right now, of course,” he quickly adds, removing the apples from the fire. Steam rises off the molten hot fruit lays them out on a flat stone and sprinkles them with pulverized bark. “We’ll find your place to satisfy our minds.” He offers her one of the hot, soft, fragrant apples.
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Posted: Wed Mar 09, 2016 9:53 pm
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Lihi looks at the fruit, sniffing near them. "They smell . . . amazing." Then he suggests they travel to her home together and she stills. It takes her a moment before she can find breath. And another moment before she can look over at him.
"You would . . . you would like to travel with me?" Her voice doesn't squeak at the end of that, but it was a near thing. "I . . . I would like that. I . . . would like that very much."
Then, in an effort to occupy herself with something other than awkward expanses of silence punctuated by babbling, she moves to take a big bite of apple, hoping a full mouth will give her a moment to get her wits back about her.
But . . . having never had hot food before, she didn't know to take a small cooling nibble from the edge. The steaming fruit hit her tongue like a burning brand. "Ah! Ah, oh . . . " She struggles, tears startled to her eyes, to breath around the fire in her mouth.
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