Welcome to Gaia! ::

It had been a long night, thus far. The few things he'd discovered about Basil and Bushfire's history made him all the more suspicious-- tonight he was investigating about some long lost chick that had apparently drowned. Bracken had gone every which way, tracking leads he didn't think could be lead, many ending in wild goose chases from other Sentinels who had no clue about anything, but wanted to look important with gossip. ("Well, you see, I heard that she said, that he said...")

Eventually he'd just returned to his territory, frustrated. The Seeker had sent out his Mus to spy on Basil awhile ago, and was just in the middle of trying to decipher Fernroot's babbling when he heard a call from his roost.

Distractedly he called back, and the Mus scurried away, escaping her master's wrath by wordlessly going back to her duty. Bracken frowned, poking his head out. In honesty he rarely got visitors, so he could only wonder.
The Seeker quickly preened a wing and came closer, landing a little ways from the other male. Few Sentinels had that commanding sort of tone, after all.

Bracken's ear tufts rose in surprise, though he tried his best to look nonchalant. The name sounded very familiar, and if those chevron's on this male's wing were any indication of who he was...

"Ah? Ah, Bracken," he responded haltingly, stumbling over his words. He nodded quickly back, still feeling completely caught off guard- not a feeling he ever enjoyed.

The entire situation was curious. An elite, visiting out here? It obviously was not someone Bracken reported to, as he'd never seen the male before, so he must have come from somewhere else. What did he want? Why not go through someone else?
He quickly preened a small spot on his chest, trying to calm himself down. It would not do to be out of sorts around an Elite- when he looked back up, his expression had settled, and he nestled deeper on his perch.

"Well enough..." the Deep Woods trailed, suspicious. He would not be able to keep anything from Wildcraft if he asked, but that didn't mean he had to flap his beak, either.

Hmm, he thought, looking the Elite over for more information, Seems to be of decent birth, at least.

It only took the short exchange for Bracken to decide that he didn't like him. He was never one for liking authority figures much, but the air that Wildcraft gave off made him more irritated then it should, despite formalities. He couldn't place his talon on why, exactly, but that's not surprising- he's better at judging lies than judging people.

"Indeed," he said with a small frown, trying to hide his discontent. It was obvious the Elite wanted something or other, but Bracken wanted to make him work for it- playing dumb wasn't so hard, if you didn't make it obvious.
"I am a Seeker around here and the Deep Woods, sir..." he said slowly, "Perhaps you've heard of me from there?"

And really, what was the Elite doing here, anyway? Having to waste his time, talking to this blasted Sentinel that had nothing to do with him. Surprise visits from a stranger were odd enough- and Wildcraft wasn't even useful in the long run, couldn't even give him a lead... wait.

I'll let him talk. Let me see what he wants first, before asking anything, just in case.

(( I'm going to start writing in present tense, if it's all right with you Slander. I'm getting my tenses all mixed up trying to reply, and I think writing in present tense might flow better anyhow. <3 ))

"Mm," he hums noncommittally, and spreads out a wing, idly preening it in the silence- as if that was worth more of his time. He is rather annoyed, and seeing Wildcraft skim it over only makes him more determined to show his displeasure. This is his territory and his time, Elite or no.

But then the Wildtype breaks the silence, and he knows he has to reply- is this what the Elite had finally come for? Story time with the Seeker? He eventually turns back, looking pursed and at a lack for better words.
"Define unusual," he grumbles, but his yellow eyes glint as a particular memory drifts by. This conversation was beginning to go in a good direction- Elites, of course, have the sort of information he uses- and he thinks back on his previous idea, of using Wildcraft to help his theories.

"I can think of a few things."

Wildcraft's tone says it all, and Bracken frowns, but otherwise straightens up like a chastised fledgling. It feels like he's suddenly pushing the limits, and he mentally curses the Elite, blaming him entirely for having such a short fuse and a fussy temper.

Blasted uppity... he thinks to himself, and cuts off that thought. It isn't as if the male is being coarse with him, or even hinting at it- but Bracken knows the type- thinks he knows, at least. He decides to cut to the chase.

"I've been investigating my neighbors," he says sourly, "Beyond their questionable... courtship, I believe that the male is hiding something. There has been talk about a chick that was lost under his care, or his previous mate's care."

"Not much as of yet," he grumbles, thinking about all the time he's spent, tracking down useless leads and sifting through pointless information. The forest loves gossip, but it was rarely any true help to his cause.

But Wildcraft's words make him pause, his yellow gaze turning inward. The male himself is a mystery, but unless Bracken's ears are deceiving him, he thinks he hears a note of disdain in the Elite's speech. It's somewhat surprising.

And what do I have to give him? Absolutely must give him?

"No witnesses as of yet. But I believe the chick is connected to an individual named Basil. He's an Artisan of some sort, a woodworker. His previous mate is a Gatherer..." Bracken hesitates, trying to come up with a name. Did he ever get her name?

"Bushfire, I believe. He is currently with a "Mist" Trapper, called Fiercefire."
'Abberant' Trapper, he corrects in his mind.

"The relationships might be related to the dead chick."

Bracken is less than happy to be corrected, but the new information manages to push back his annoyance. He is young, after all, and still eager to do his job well. The mistakes he makes are of little concern to him yet.

"Interesting," he says solemnly, and his ear tufts p***k forward, "After their clutch died, you say? That's very interesting indeed..."
The Seeker seems lost in his thoughts for a moment, half mumbling to himself. Things between the convoluted love triangle are starting to make sense, as he gains more pieces to the puzzle- he is beginning to realize the implications of how everyone is acting.

It is time, he thinks, for a long overdue visit to Basil.

When he comes back, Wildcraft is saying something more, and all he can do is nod, shifting on his perch. There is maliciousness in his eyes, but it's a dim glow that flickers under the weight of the Elite's anger.

"Of course," Bracken responds, catching the bit about sharing any new information he comes across. It is his duty, after all, and it cannot hurt to get into the graces of a high ranking Sentinel.