|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Apr 15, 2008 8:31 pm
Brightling wasn’t sure why the daft old Iennta had summoned her to her tree, but she hadn’t been willing to risk bad things happening if she had ignored the summons. So she had canceled her plans for the evening, called her parus, and set off to meet the old biddy.
She had limited experience with Iennta herself, but she had heard tales, and not tales that Bards told. At least half the Sentinels who knew her spoke of her in irritated voices, and many found reasons to be anyplace but where Iennta was. Brightling knew she was something of a meddler and something of a loudmouth, but she wasn’t wholly...aware (or perhaps forewarned was a better word) of the situations she would be dealing with.
The other Sentinel had cornered her last night, told Brightling that she had a treat in store for her, and demanded that the bard come visit her tree the very next evening. She had told Brightling to come as she would otherwise have gone out, and so the flashy female came bedecked as a bard in all her bells. Naturally, her markings were always there, and Brightling hoped that she wasn’t going to be called in for a scolding about impersonating a member of the Elites again. It happened more frequently than she would have preferred, but every time she molted, she went back. It was just...
It was irrelevant. Suddenly realizing she had made her way to where she needed to be, Brightling slowed herself and caught a perch on Iennta’s beech tree. She didn’t bother calling out; what she DID know of the other Sentinel suggested that Iennta would know she had arrived.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 20, 2008 7:26 pm
Nervous wasn't even half of it.
It had been only a matter of time before he too had been cornered by Iennta. The older Sentinel was, for many young inhabitants of Noctua, like a rite of passage: you couldn't really get through life properly without her bustling in, sweeping up your current path and resetting it...and more than likely it would be overlapping another's when it was all right and proper again. You couldn't complain, oh no, you just had to take up your former route with as much dignity as possible and pray to Noctus you wouldn't crash.
And though Twistumbler had never been a particularly religious Sentinel, by the skies was he praying now!
Although, he had to be fair. He may have been able to wiggle out of the proposition had it been just Iennta alone, but there had been a wrench in the plan: Songbloom, and he could not, for the life of him, say no to that pudgy little face of hers. But what made it a sealed obligation was when he dragged himself back to the Enclave followed by Songbloom's uproarious fanfare. Guess wha', Ossie! she had shrieked. Pa Twist s'goin' a-courtin'! It was the only recorded moment in the history of Sentinel-kind that the Mist and Ghost fledgling had gotten along - at his expense.
The painted Wildtype ducked his head and nearly crashed into the bough of a tree in his stupidity. Luck seemed to be with him at this moment. He winged around the trunk of the beech and went swimmingly (read: disoriented) on his way. Until he realized he had just bypassed his destination. His thoughts were sucked through a funnel into the back of his head as his wings angled up to slow himself down (nearly catching yet another tree - today just was not his day!) and turned to drift back towards Iennta's home.
He alighted a branch not too far from Brightling, though completely unawares of her presence since he was, well, backwards. His feathers were beginning to bristle with oncoming apprehension.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2008 5:44 pm
“Ah, Twistumbler, halloo!”
Iennta's voice preceeded her, and as the old bird hop-flapped out of the hole in her tree and onto a nearby branch, headscarf rustling and the charms in her pack jangling, she couldn't help but suppress a cackle. "And I see we've the other half of our happy arrangement! Young miss Brightling. What a pleasure."
If a Sentinel could have jumped out of her feathers in fright, Brightling would have been cleanly plucked. As it were, she whirled to face the source of the voice and found herself face-to-face (or nearly) with a very handsome and somewhat familiar male whose blue mantle she found distinctly recognizable. She had certainly seen him around. But her attention soon snapped back to the other Sentinel, the one responsible for this.
Iennta's few words thus far had struck fear into the young bard's heart, and Brightling couldn't stop her feathers from prickling with concern. Something bad was going to happen, she could feel it already.
"Good evening, mother Iennta," she said quietly and politely, hoping to diffuse some of the bad things that would no doubt be happening. "I have come as you requested. What is it that you would have me do?"
"Oh, my dear," Iennta cackled, "nothing but spend the night with this charming lad, Twistumbler. Perhaps you've seen him about? He's a distinctly elligible bachelor, and I thought perhaps you'd enjoy spending some time with a few lads."
Brightling puffed to twice her typical size, staring wildly at first one Sentinel, then the other. She had been set up? This was some sort of a social introduction? Was this some sort of matchmaking?
It took all her will (and quite a bit of her prodigious store of curiosity) to keep her sitting still.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2008 12:59 pm
Already a ball of nerves, the old Sentinel's voice struck him with surprise as she came fluttering from the bole of the beech; for a brief moment his talons had sunken into his perch and his body ducked in defense. He had been in the midst of greeting her (once he had wrangled his fright into something more manageable) when he found himself surprisingly close to a familiar face. Twist jerked back unconsciously, eyes hatchling-wide. He shouldn't have been so startled, the more rational half of him reasoned. You knew what you were getting into.
Sort of.
Kind of.
Right?
Not that he could really complain, because a good bit of him (that masculinity driven bit, he decided) was whooping with glee: she was a very attractive Wildtype, that was for sure. And a bard - which made her all of the more. Twist looked away when she spoke, glancing curiously at Iennta. That's just about when he had wished he had crashed into that tree trunk on his way there.
It always sounded so much worse coming out of someone else's beak.
A look of discomfiture dawned steadily across Twist's face, his eartuft's rising. If he had feet to shuffle, he surely would have; he gulped and looked worriedly after Brightling - a mixture of apology, reasoning (dear Noctus, please don't claw my face in and...hope?
"Oh -- dear. This isn't quite -- it's not what I -- gosh, I--" He stumbled, beginning over and over, brow dimpled and tufts cocked back. His face melted into something more abashed and amused. Was hysterical the word? He smoothed down his bristling feathers and cleared his throat, glancing at Iennta. Boy, if this didn't make him feel inadequate....
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 23, 2008 6:09 pm
Immediately, Brightling’s manner soothed in the face of Twist’s embarrassment. Ruffled feathers smoothed and her manner returned to honey-sweet as she realized that the other Sentinel seemed just as perplexed as she did.
“If you could ever forgive me, sir,” she said smoothly, not even looking over her shoulder to give Iennta the look of pure venom that she could feel seething in her gut, "I did not think, merely reacted. You see, it would appear I have been ill-informed. I would have come more prepared if I had known I would be meeting you. Twistumbler, is it?" she asked lightly, giving him a smile as she soothed her seething rage to something cooler and more calm.
"I would be thrilled to spend an evening with you, if you can forgive my attrocious rudeness and Mother Iennta's apparent inability to give proper invitations."
It was already going better than Iennta could have dreamed. The bard had smoothed things out all on her own, and Iennta hadn't even needed to flick a feather. A fledgling could have underseen such well-oiled machinery.
"Oh, wonderful!" she said gleefully, bobbing in amusement like some sort of songbird. "I knew you'd get on brilliantly the moment I laid eyes on both of you! I do apologize for summoning you in an odd way,” she said in a low voice to Brightling. “It’s just that I knew you’d be off barding unless you thought it was urgent. I know your type, disregarding the wisdom of years unless you think you’re in trouble. Oh, my poor wings, spending so much effort convincing a featherheaded youngling to come visit.” Affecting an obviously false injured mood, she fixed a somewhat wicked gaze on the Bard, hoping for some sort of angry response.
Brightling merely ignored her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 2:14 pm
Brightling's apology was interjected with a breathless 'of course' and 'I'm very sorry' and 'oh, yes, Twistumbler!' - a chattery habit that the Wildtype had never been able to shake. He appeared pleasantly bewildered, ear-tufts quivering atop his head like shock had set in. Her gentle smile kicked up the mire of thought that settled at the bottom of his mind and a ripple passed through his glossy feathers (he'd been particularly meticulous this evening!), which reawakened him. Despite his pause, he managed to save at least a little bit of grace.
"Really?" he queried, straightening. Well, so much for 'grace' and all that. Twist ruffled his feathers with a quavering laugh, "I mean" - he clicked his beak in thought - "Well, that would be wonderful. Really."
The minder looked away. He must have been coming off too eager, hasty, something - while Brightling was wonderfully calm and composed, he was a quivering mess of feathers. Though, to give him some justice, he wasn't reacting as badly as he thought he was. He peered at the bard again, an awkward smile dawning across his dial. Perhaps the debonair and flash would come later - right now all he could manage was wounded amusement.
"Oh, come," he finally managed with a familiar twinkle in his eyes. "It was an error on my part. Misinformation upon our meeting, perhaps - a lady is never at fault."
Despite his raging denial.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 18, 2008 8:26 am
After her initial shock, Brightling took a moment to look, really look, at Twistumbler, and her face twitched in a smile as he quickly got chattery. At his preening, she couldn't think to do anything but tilt her head to hide a tiny bit of laughter, not at him in a cruel way, but at him in a charmed sort of way.
He didn't seem bad at all. Indeed, he was quite handsome (she admired the way his dye job complemented instead of clashed with his feathers) and his fidgety, chattery air was...endearing was probably a word she would use in good faith. Preening one of her wings to hide a smile and compose herself again (she was both amused and nervous, and the combination could issue forth as nervous giggles at any moment), she waited for him to bring himself back under control before looking up again.
"Too kind," she said gravely, then flashed him a brilliant wink and bobbed her head, jingling a bit as she did so. "Now then, perhaps we should take our leave," and she paused to shoot another disdainful look at Iennta, "and decide what to do from there?"
Taking the briefest moment to incline her head to the matchmaker (she was an elder, after all) she spread her wings, quickly preened her flight feathers again, and looked at Twist.
Iennta simply resisted the urge to cackle with glee.
"Of course, of course, dearies, don't let me interrupt you! I live to serve, after all," she said, bowing shortly and suddenly disappearing into her nesting hollow, beads clacking and cloth headscarf rustling in her wake.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 28, 2008 1:54 pm
His beak gaped at her words, clearly unable to hide his amusement. Though not one for blatant showings of his exasperation, Twist couldn't help but widen his eyes (a feat considering how wide they were already!) as though to say: I do believe you're right! He could admire Iennta's radical earnestness, but viewing her wacky ministrations upon others - from afar - was much more fun than having her administer them on your person. At least it was a two-Sentinel ordeal and he wasn't alone. Still...the fact that he wasn't alone made it all the worse.
On that note, Twist's calm began to flutter away. He'd never really done any courting in his lifetime; he was quite sure sharing mice and the like with female fledglings in his youth didn't count. To save face, this was just one evening with a (particularly) winsome Wildtype. So technically...
Technicalities be damned! He squashed that over-eager masculine voice and cleared his throat for the umpteenth time. Jus' be yerself, Pa! Ossie had told him. Onl' no' too much, cos you migh' scare her off! Song had finished off. He was beginning to feel a little queasy.
"We can always play by ear," he replied. Twist glanced at the retreating biddy with a warm - albeit taut - smile and bid his adieu. Then, he turned and gave a great show of sweeping a single wing out into the incoming, unknown evening.
"After you, Miss Brightling."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 30, 2008 7:38 pm
Twist’s mingled amusement, sarcasm, and awkwardness amused Brightling to no end, and when she caught the look he gave Iennta, it was all she could do to stifle a laugh, jingling a bit as she did so. Suddenly remembering she was wearing all her bells, she shook her head and then tapped a foot, listening with vague pleasure to the cacophony of soft tinkles she made. When Twist gestured, opening the entire forest to her, she gave him a warm smile and inclined her head in thanks.
“Too kind,” she said lightly, though the tone was more playful than anything. “I think I might have to stop by my own tree and drop these things off, though,” she said, dipping her beak to indicate the bells on her ankle. “I’ll make more noise than a hatchling cradle, otherwise.” She paused for a moment, and then realized how bossy and forward she probably sounded. “If you don’t mind, I mean. And I have a few different types of nuts, if you like those...”
She trailed off and shrugged her wings, realizing that she was more nervous than she had previously thought. She was babbling, therefore she was nervous. And that, for a performer, was rare.
Then again, she never spent time with males, and Twist was very handsome.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 01, 2008 2:06 pm
That laugh, muffled as it was, was just as musical as the bells that had accompanied it. So when she made mention to remove the tinkling accessories, the Wildtype was surprised. He could hardly protest her choice, however - it was not his place. Instead he bobbed his head in acquiescence; he had a feeling he'd be doing that a lot tonight.
"Not a problem!" he chirruped. If she was being bossy, so be it for Twist to roll over and give her his belly (so to speak!). "They're pretty little things, really, but if it'd make you more comfortable, who am I to stop you?"
Twistumbler could hardly tell she was nervous, so bumbled was he feeling in his own mannerisms. He attempted an encouraging smile, "Though I must say, mentioning of a snack is tempting."
Of course, speaking of tree-hopping and the like was, perhaps, not the smartest topic of conversation when roosting outside the home of a known gossiper. This failed to dawn on the Minder until after he had agreed to the trip; he blinked and swiveled his head slowly towards Iennta's bole, the fine feathers of his face and chest rising slowly.
No, no, no - it'll be all right, he told himself. They were simply stopping by the Bard's territory to drop off a few things, and then they'd be gone. It wasn't...it wasn't like - Noctus forbid! - she was inviting him inside.
If Twist had a collar to tug, he would certainly be tugging it now!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 04, 2008 9:15 pm
Ah, and the complement made her fluff her feathers in embarrassment, half-closing her eyes and laughing softly in a combination of amusement and awkward nervousness. She completely ignored Iennta, and her mind did not travel on the same rails as Twist's did. After all, Brightling was spoken about in many others' inner circles, sometimes for some bizarre thing she had done, but mostly for her appearance. She had learned to ignore how others felt, for the most part. It wouldn't occur to her that Iennta might take things in an inappropriate way.
But she noticed Twist's embarrassment, even if she couldn't place the reason behind it, and quickly sleeked her own feathers. "Well then, we mustn't dally, or the night will be dead before we ever have the chance to talk." She smiled at him, spread her wings, and pushed almost lazily from the branch, bells on her ankles jingling madly for the first few wingspans of distance she put between herself and the tree. Perching in an alder not far away, she swiveled her head to look after Twist, gave him another warm smile, and waited just long enough to ensure he was following.
"I don't live that far from here; it will be a quick stop," she said sweetly when she knew he would hear it. By that point, they were well out of earshot of the meddling old biddy. Brightling sighed inaudibly. This would be all over the forest tomorrow. Not that anyone knew who she was, but Twist was a Minder, and she could only imagine the tarnish Iennta's tales could add to his reputation.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2008 8:13 pm
Twist's wings jerked uncomfortably as he made to stretch them for flight. Brightling's smile - and her overall warmth, really - assuaged his current apprehension as he shifted and dropped silently from the branch. The sooner he got away from Iennta, the better.
"Wonderful, wonderful!" he gasped (though not in a tired manner, mind) as he alighted another branch not far from Brightling's spot. And with a mighty bit of cheese, he said: "Though I'd follow even if you lived on a cloud in the above!"
He gaped his beak, but his feathers sleeked almost immediately afterwards, "I mean, you know, I would accompany you to, ah, take your bells back. Not that...you know." Twist cut himself off with a laugh. When would this jitteriness abate? He muttered something - a frustrated something at that, like he were scolding - to himself.
"Lead...ah, lead the way!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 27, 2008 10:36 am
Brightling tossed her head back in amusement, sleeking her feathers in half-feigned, half-real embarrassment. "Oh, sir, you flatter me so," she said, giving Twist another brilliant smile. "Are you certain you're not a bard in secret, Sir Twistumbler? Because it is rare that such lovely things come from the beaks of those who aren't skilled in stagecraft."
And here she flashed him a brilliant wink, indicating without any difficulty at all that any teasing she did was playful at worst. "La, sir," she said, fluttering to Twist's perch and playfully preening one of his eartufts. "You are much too charming for your own good."
Bumping lightly against him, she laughed, spread her wings, and was off again, flitting through the trees in what felt like a fledgling's game of tag. "Come on, then!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 07, 2008 12:47 pm
"Well," he continued with his most earnest laugh that night. "When presented with such an embodiment of inspiration, Lady Brightling, one cannot help but become inspirited themselves!"
Such bold words felt both deliciously foreign and easy on his tongue all at once, and it became difficult to say whether the level trill in his tone came from some underlying abashment or the excitement of mischief. Brightling's words gave him a most definite boost of encouragement, but when she gave his tuft a preen, he became aware that she was obviously more skilled at this game than he. His feathers sleeked immediately; the gleam in his eyes said, however, that he was not about to give up the sport now even if a part of him thrummed shyly.
Surprised by her actions, and not at all put off by them, Twist glided from the tree and sped after her with another laugh. He looped by branches with a freedom in his wings he had nearly forgotten they offered.
Enjoying himself far too much to cater to surprise, he found himself sing-songing, "And there is no better chase than in the pursuit of a muse."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 09, 2008 1:57 pm
Brightling laughed again when she was certain that Twist was following her. While she might not admit it beyond playful banter, she was incredibly flattered by this handsome Wildtype and eager to keep up their little games. Making certain to keep close enough to hear his voice and hoping he would keep talking, she giggled excitedly and let him on a merry game of chase through the trees. He was such a darling, this one! In spite of all her misgivings, she was certainly having more fun than she had in ages.
Her territory wasn’t far, particular for two young Sentinels in a high-speed game of tag that seemed most alarmingly like flirting. She reached the queerly-shaped birch that marked her territorial boundary in what seemed like no time and perched briefly on a nearby oak to allow Twist to catch up. Her bells clinked and clanged as they struck each other on her perch, and she smiled, suddenly realizing that her jingling was the reason she had come out here in the first place.
“Well, Sir Twist,” she called out when he was close to her, “welcome to my humble abode!” Laughing a little bit, she spread her wings and dropped, gliding toward her nest tree. It was obvious which one was hers; there was a small bundle of orange and yellow feathers hanging above the hollow to let others know of her presence, and a bright parus was fussing about in the hollow. When she saw Twist, she gave an indignant shriek and flew up to scold him noisily.
“Hush, Flickerwing,” Brightling scolded right back, and the parus alighted beside her, still fussing. “Twist’s not a bad fellow. I’m sorry,” she added, turning to Twistumbler again. “She thinks you’re going to eat her.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
