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 Posted: Tue Jun 02, 2009 9:05 am
Drywood had had a good evening. His latest experiment finally seemed ready to be tested on avians, and if he was right, then he might very well be on the road to another remarkable remedy.
While hopping out of his spacious hollow, somewhat slowly due to the talonfuls of dead mus he was carrying, the Apothecary once again allowed himself to muse over the opportunity to experiment on something even more sentinel-like. Picas were usually more eloquent than the paruses that he had to settle for... too bad that no Keepers managed to breed them, so that there could be culls to be had. There was another option, of course, one even more enticing, but he would never dare to bring that up again. At least not in any company but Tails'.
Well, well. Paruses would do. He had done a lot of groundbreaking work on paruses alone - they were not to be frowned upon. With a few brisk, calculated movements, Drywood tossed his latest test subjects from his porch. Giving himself a nod of satisfaction, he settled back, puffed up his chest, and allowed himself a pause to enjoy the stillness of the night. He would soon leave to make his usual rounds among the keepers who supplied him (oh, and remember to bring some more of mixture 17 to Mr Oakscratch, he'll probably be needing it by now...), but he was in no rush. He had plenty of time. The experiment wasn't going anywhere, and it was really a very pleasant night. Perhaps he would go hunting instead. Or try to teach Tails some new tricks, once she returned from her foraging.
Tonight, he could do whatever he wanted to. He had time. He had plenty of time.
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Posted: Wed Jun 03, 2009 8:33 am
 Drywood may think he has a bit of spare time to devote to his own affairs but there is a sentinel who seems to think otherwise. One who is quickly approaching the younger sentinel’s territory.
Aware of the apothecary's rather unpleasant choice of companion, Holly felt it was best to leave his little chirop behind. The small thing is rather useful in an argument and the Storyteller can’t help but feel a little vulnerable tonight.
As he entered the territory, the older sentinel let out a booming hoot and when he made out the shape of the apothecary he quickly swerved to meet him. Landing a little further away of what could be considered a respectful distance, Holly eyed the surrounding branches with a few fleeting glances before turning to the younger Chestnut.
“Good evening, Drywood.” The Storyteller said in a tone slightly louder than usual given the distance that separated him from the apothecary. “I’d like to have a quick word with you if you're not terribly busy.”
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Posted: Fri Jun 05, 2009 12:59 am
The loud hoot startled Drywood out of his reverie, and he Shook himself down almost as if he had been doused with a sudden shower of rain. Then he brightened, and turned to peer in the direction of the sound. A visitor! Could it be a customer, perhaps?
Something about that voice nagged at the back of his mind, but he cheerfully answered the hoot and watched as the older sentinel swooped down to land a fair bit away from him.
As the other inspected his surroundings, Drywood inspected him. That nagging feeling was getting stronger. The Apothecary tilted his head slightly and racked his brain. He knew this sentinel, Holly... song - yes, that's right. A very respectable Bard - no, wait, Storyteller, actually. Why on earth did he feel this... this faint sense of trepidation around the older sentinel? Had there been a conflict at some point in the past, perhaps? Nothing sprung to mind.
"Good evening to you as well, Sir!" he greeted the other, careful not to give away the slightest indication of his confusion in his amiable smile. He dipped into a respectful little bow. "Tonight, I am quite at my leisure. How may I be of assistance?"
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 11:23 am
Hollysong examines the younger Chestnut discreetly as he preens his plumage into what he considers an acceptable condition. The long flight has not been wasted he is quite sure of it now.
“We have met before I’m sure but allow me to introduce myself. I am Hollysong the Storyteller. I believe you’ve heard a story or two from me when you were a small fledgling.” he eyes the apothecary with interest waiting to see if a spark of recognition crosses Drywood’s expression. Would it be followed by a sigh of exasperation, resignation or perhaps even dread, he wonders. He has seen it all.
“Although I can often be found telling the younger generation the stories of our ancestors, that hasn’t been my main occupation for a while now. For the past few seasons, I have researched not only stories of fiction but the very lives of those which preceded us. I have become very much interested in the origins of sentinels of all types and I can say I have a good understanding of the family lines which connect a vast number of our kind. Your family tree, for instance, I know it quite well.“ He pauses as the golden eyes travel through the surrounding branches absentmindedly – a sign he hasn’t forgotten about the slithering companion. His silence grows longer as he waits for the apothecary to speak. He’s hoping the younger Chestnut will understand the purpose of his visit without any further explanation but he will gladly cut to the point if that isn’t the case.
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 1:46 pm
Drywood gives himself a small nod, slightly proud to have been able to remember the older Sentinel's occupation correctly, right off the bat. However, the confirmation also makes that disturbing feeling of discomfort to grow even stronger. Carefully keeping his polite smile in place, Drywood racks his brain for whatever reason he might have to feel this trepidation in front of such a fine, honorable gentleman... and as the Storyteller continues talking, it slowly dawns on him.
Right about the mention of his own family tree, the Apothecary visibly shrinks, his smile stiffening into a far less natural grimace.
Surely, it can't be... Surely, the older sentinel is just making small talk? Surely, this mention of family must pertain to some... inherited... disease?
But he knows that he is grasping for straws. He remembers now, what the distinguished Hollysong is usually known to speak with young, unmated Chestnuts about.
Drywood's voice is just a tad bit too loud, a tad bit too cheerful when he replies:
"Why, of course you do! What an honor to have you here, Storyteller Hollysong!" He dips into a quick bow and twirls around on his perch so that he is facing the entrance of his hollow, and takes a few hops towards the black opening, glancing at the older sentinel over his shoulder. "Would you like any refreshments? I'm sure I have some fresh squirrel... Do step inside, won't you?"
Time, time, he needs time. He needs time to think, to analyze his situation. Right now, only one thought manages to remain perfectly clear in his mind:
I am not prepared!
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 4:39 pm
Drywood’s reaction doesn’t surprise the older sentinel but a small wave of ruffled feathers travels through Hollysong’s body. He too, smiles amiably even if he secretly feels a mix of amusement and annoyance. When there so much on the line, would it really be too much to ask that the young lad had already made up his mind and decided to start a family soon?
“Oh, I ate on the way, thank you. Very kind of you. This is the longest trip I’ve done in a while.” Hollysong says softly as he follows the younger Chestnut. “I noticed, dear friend, that you didn’t ask why I am here.”
Holly quickly stops himself. It might be too soon to corner the apothecary so he decides to give Drywood a way to escape the dreaded topic.
“I’ve been told that you are highly regarded by medics and fellow apothecaries. Quite a feat considering how young you are. I also heard you have a Serpe.” This is hardly the only thing that he’s been told concerning the odd Drywood but the Storyteller would rather ignore such negative comments at the moment. He is momentarily fascinated by Drywood’s facial disk color. Quite striking indeed. And those orange chest feathers. The apothecary’s eartuft don’t have a white line like his own… but young Willow’s do. Holly is feeling… greedy. And impatient. There is no doubt he won’t manage to avoid the real subject for long. “I’ve always found interesting how the apothecaries seem to favor that particular companion.”
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Posted: Sun Jun 07, 2009 5:35 am
Even though he knows it is rude, Drywood ignores Hollysong's casual comment. He is not interested in knowing why the older sentinel is here, not anymore. He doesn't want to ask. To hide this social faux-pas, the Apothecary dives his head into his food store and scrounges up the dead squirrel anyway.
He preens the snack a little, absentmindedly responding to Hollysong's praise.
"Well, I have made some groundbreaking work, I dare say. Precision is the key. Precision, precision, precision."
Then he recaptures his amiable smile again and hops over to Hollysong, placing the squirrel between the two of them. Although he doesn't much feel like eating, himself.
"Yes, well..." Happy to avoid what he suspects the Storyteller really wants to talk to him about, Drywood decides to try his best to explore the subject of Serpes: "The poisons that some of them provide are so important to our line of work. Why, I have often thought to get myself a few more, just so that I won't have to trade for those poisons every time I need them. But I'm not sure how well they would get along with Tails... She's out foraging right now, will probably be back sometime after midnight. I think. Of course, she is not of the poisonous kind, but still absolutely invaluable to me - One really couldn't ask for a better nestguard, and I would never have gotten as far as I have without her ability for precise measurements. I think many others tend to overlook what a useful trait this is in Serpes. It's far too easy to stare oneself blind at the poisons and climbing and fitting into tight spaces..."
He trails off. Suddenly, he's feeling very... vulnerable. Left alone with a matchmaker, older, wiser and more respected than himself, without even the comfort of Longtail's strong, solid presence by his side.
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Posted: Mon Jun 08, 2009 8:16 am
No matter how interesting Hollysong finds Drywood’s explanation (and truth be told, he does find it surprisingly interesting), he will not let himself be swayed from his true purpose tonight. After all, the apothecary did say something rather important: the Serpe would be back soon and Holly would much rather not be present to see the “nestguard”. At the moment he felt he had the upper hand but Holly knew very well how some companions were able to sense their master’s distress and often acted upon it. A grown Serpe (even one without poison) was not something he wanted to deal it.
“That is indeed fascinating. One more thing to tell the little ones… Now Drywood,” the tone changes abruptly from that of a kind grandfather to a sentinel formally presenting a business transaction. “… the reason why I’m here… The success you have achieved cannot be underestimated. Still, there are many ways to leave your mark in this world. Some would say that such a success will feel somewhat empty when you don’t have someone to share it with. I don’t know how you feel about this matter but I would like to say that a mate is not a burden. Much on the contrary, dear friend, I can tell you from personal experience that a mate is a partner in life, someone to share the joys, the failures, the good and bad nights… someone who will stand by your side and protect that which is dear to you."
The Storyteller doesn’t want Drywood to start imagining the perfect little Chestnut family so he feels that he should explain his objective soon. However, knowing where the apothecary stands seems more important at the moment.
“So do tell, Drywood. Have you ever had any interest in starting a family? Have you ever felt (or feel) interested in a particular female…?
He waits for younger sentinel’s reaction, removing the squirrel’s fur with brisk movements of his powerful beak. Even though he’s not hungry, he swallows a large piece of meat out of politeness as he admires the apothecary’s plumage one more time.
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Posted: Mon Jun 08, 2009 1:50 pm
Said plumage is rapidly shrinking under the Storyteller's gaze, and Drywood is actually starting to look rather distressed. Even his ever-present smile is starting to fade, and he seems to be studying the dead squirrel very intently.
"Can't say that I really have, no..." he mumbles, shuffling his feet with nervous little jerks. He steals a quick glance at the Storyteller's face. "I mean, I am still so young, am I not? And... and with the occupation that I have... my poisons... it really is not very suitable for... um... and, of course, Serpes are not what one would usually, perhaps, think of combining with... e-eggs." The last word leaves his beak with some difficulty, almost as if he thinks the eggs will pop into existence just by being mentioned.
Then the Apothecary clears his throat and straightens up, shaking his head emphatically. "No, I really don't think that I should focus on building a family, not at this current time and place in my life."
All excuses, he knows. Good ones, he hopes. The best ones he could think of. But, somewhere inside, he can already feel how this argument is going to end. Some small part of him is already beginning to resign to the inevitable.
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Posted: Mon Jun 08, 2009 5:02 pm
“Young, yes, but when I had seen as many moons as you have now I was already going on my way to a second clutch. You shouldn’t worry about your companion. After all, they are creatures of lesser intellect and we can’t allow them to influence the way we live our lives.”
Drywood did make a good point but it wasn’t something the Storyteller hadn’t heard before.
“If you feel that your Serpe is not obedient enough to be trusted around the eggs, I’m sure we could find you a… replacement. And I suppose that if you can’t possibly afford to lose the creature, well it could be re-homed temporarily. Obviously if that option doesn’t suit you either and you feel that raising the hatchlings will take too much of your time, there is always the option of leaving them in the trusted talons of a good minder. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be away from your family but even if your work is a little too time consuming, you could still visit them at the enclave every night. At least they'd be completely safe from your poisons.”
The older sentinel’s voice softens just a little as he eyes Drywood’s tufts, picturing them with a white line – like his own have… and Willow’s as well.
“I have come to you because your Clan needs you, Drywood. You are the bearer of a very pure line and you have been chosen for a… mission, shall we say. There hasn’t been a cross in your line for dozens of generations and as such you are a very fine example of a healthy Chestnut young sentinel. I’m not sure how well you know this but every so often our type has to incorporate blood from the Deep Woods to maintain the health of the next few Chestnut generations. Such a carefully planned mating is not a bad thing when done properly but the most responsible thing to do if we wish to prevent the extinction of the Chestnuts.” He is watching Drywood’s expression very carefully now. “With the relatively recent mating of a very lovely Deep Woods lady to a carefully chosen Chestnut, we began to incorporate the new blood once again. Now, a granddaughter of that lady has been shown to me for evaluation. She is a very lovely girl, clever and certainly pretty. Her markings might not be perfect but she has great potential. There might be descents that look completely Chestnut! Of course that means she has to be paired with the right male. That male, my friend, is most definitely you. With your history and your exceptional plumage, there is no better match for her. She is anxiously awaiting the chance to meet the one she is meant to be with. It is time to grow a little, Drywood. The Clan… the Chestnuts are asking you to step forward and fulfill your duty. It is an honor, young sentinel, to be chosen to help the perseverance of such an old worthy type.”
Hollysong might look confident but he is slowly taking a deep breath as he braces for the reaction. Is Drywood going to be easier or harder to convince than he expected? What the apothecary says in the next few moments will be a good way to tell how much work there is ahead of the Storyteller.
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Posted: Wed Jun 10, 2009 4:52 am
At first, Drywood tries to interrupt the Storyteller's tirade a few times, especially when Hollysong suggests that he get rid of Longtail in one way or another, but since the older sentinel seems to predict and avert all of his objections before he can even voice them, he soon gives up.
Letting his beak slip shut and sitting back, there is little the apothecary can do as Hollysong's words crumble all his defenses even as he tries to construct them. He studies his talons, and the faint scrapes on the hard floor, his ear tufts sleeking back against his skull.
Trust a Storyteller to have an answer for everything.
He scrapes one talon across the grains of the hardened wood under his feet and frowns as a small splinter comes loose. Of course he knows about the breeding program. He used to be somewhat interested in the theory of it, before it suddenly came to involve himself. Now, it is just... it is... The words, the expressions fail him, but there is something in his chest, something that makes it feel... narrow. Something that he needs to get rid of, somehow.
He fidgets, trying to shed the uncomfortable sensation, and pulls in a deep breath. Without looking up, without even thinking, he is slightly surprised to hear himself say:
"Are you sure that... that I am the best match? I-I'm... it's..." He carefully closes his beak around the half-formed sentence. It's an angle, but if it is to have a chance at working, he needs to spin it right. If only his chest wouldn't feel so distractingly constricted!
He straightens up, meeting the Storyteller's eyes with his usual amiable smile right back in place. His plumage resettles to a pretty much normal state with a slight wave, almost like a sigh, even though his ear tufts remain in a notably low position.
"I know well what an honor it is that you wish to bestow upon me, honorable Storyteller, but I must confess that I am not entirely sure that I am worthy of it. My plumage is hardly exceptional, and I am far from the only eligible young Chestnut with a purebred history. Hrm." This is all well and good, but it won't convince the Storyteller to go look for his bachelor somewhere else. He needs something else. Anything. "Besides, I... I... Am... Not very good at socializing."
He can feel himself deflate even as he speaks the words. Pathetic. If this is the best that he can do in his own defence, then... well. He has already lost.
He pulls in another deep breath and tries again, challenging the Storyteller's gaze with the last desperation of a man who knows that he is fighting a losing battle. "How can you be sure that this... union, that you are suggesting... is really going to work? You say that she is eager to meet her match but... I..." That tightness in his chest grows stronger, his words weaker. He knows what he wants to say, but has no idea of how to formulate it. The words that do emerge are crude and far, far too simple, but stopping them is not an option. "Don't think... that's... me."
The last syllable twists upwards, like a question, but whether it's directed at the Storyteller or Drywood himself is anyone's guess. He looks down again and mutters, half to himself. "I don't think it's going to work."
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Posted: Wed Jun 10, 2009 9:12 am
Hollysong smiles inwardly as the younger sentinel tries to talk his way out of the arranged mating. He foresees an easier path than expect… if only he can manage to say the right things. At least Drywood already sees the honor of being chosen.
“You were chosen for many reasons, Drywood. I won’t deny there are other possibilities but none fit the lady in question quite as well as you do. Some are a little too old, others have a serious fault or two in their plumage or constitution and there are those whose line has suffered a cross a little too recently. You see, it there is a very extensive list of criteria that one must meet and quite frankly, you are the ONLY one that truly passed that evaluation.” This is a point where Hollysong won’t back down for he truly believes Drywood is the best possible match for Willowbreeze. “For instance, your mother had very lovely long tufts which mean that you carry that trait in your blood. Since the girl also has long tufts, all the female hatchlings will show that desirable trait. She also has a white line all the way to the tip of her tufts that would complement yours rather nicely. And your facial disk is quite lovely. You have perfect size and nice-colored chest feathers. See, Drywood, even small aesthetic matters have been taken into consideration. Of course there is no way to tell if the mating is going to be as successful as we hope, but I can safely say you’re the best possible match.”
He pauses for breath but quickly resumes as if he is afraid to let the apothecary speak just yet.
“You shouldn’t worry too much about socializing skills. Willow, that’s the girl we’ve been speaking of, is a thriving bard whose communicating skills will fill any gaps you might be concerned about. Even your tasks won’t clash (and believe sometimes they do!). You can also tell she’s a little nervous but it’s to be expected. She has a lovely voice, you should really hear her sing.”
Should he? Mmmm. Now that’s an interesting notion. Would Drywood feel less resistant if he actually saw Willowbreeze? After all, the girl was quite lovely despite her faults. Now there was something to consider.
“Anyway, dear boy, there is no question that you are the best possible match. I examined every bachelor personally including your own relatives. It is you.”
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Posted: Thu Jun 11, 2009 1:15 pm
Drywood smiles and nods, but the feeling in his chest has not changed at all. If anything, it's gotten worse. The only thing that betrays his frustration is a slight shuffle of his feet, a ripple through the feathers on his head.
Yes, yes. Very good answer. Very concise and thought-through and flattering and difficult to argue with, but still completely missing my point. Drywood begins to carefully preen the just-mentioned chest feathers, stalling for time before he has to reply again.
Then again... perhaps it is my question that is wrong. It would not be the first time. Very reluctantly, he decides not to try to push his point. He wouldn't really know how to phrase it right, anyway.
The Storyteller's next words, however, does nothing to ease his discomfort. A Bard? A Bard?! In his surprise he opens his beak to object, but the quickly remembers and closes it again. Mentioning Tails' aversion to loud noises will not make any difference at all, and Hollysong might just turn it into another argument to get rid of her. All that he can say is:
"She sings... does she? How... lovely." He clears his throat and fights valiantly to keep his smile in place, as he feels all his defenses and the life that he has been used to this far crumble away under a wave of resignation. "Well... You do make a very good argument, Mr Hollysong. I... can't really find any reason to object to this plan." He clears his throat again - it feels rather dry, all of a sudden. Even though the resignation somehow eases the tightness of his chest a little. "I must of course bow down to your expertise. If you say I am the best match, then... Hrrm. I suppose I shall have to meet the lady? ...Soon?"
The way that he adds that last word hints pretty clearly that he hopes the answer to his question is "No". I am not prepared...!
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 4:23 pm
Was he agreeing? Already? The Storyteller was very much impressed with the successful and polite apothecary and the young Chestnut's last words led him to believe that the rumors that circulated around the keeper community were nothing short of petty exaggeration.
Hollysong fluffed up in excitement, looking positively radiant.
“Ah, Drywood. How wonderful it is to find a young sentinel like yourself with good manners and an even better head. You wouldn’t believe the irresponsible children I have to deal with sometimes. Some don’t even understand the honor it is to be chosen for something like this.”The Storyteller moved slowly towards the entrance. “And yes, you are quite right. I’ll come to see you soon to take you to her. Don’t worry I won’t leave you two alone for too long. It’s more of a formality than anything else and you can expect my messenger chirop to give you a proper date. Please warn your companion of its arrival. The little thing is quite useful to me.“
The older sentinel looks like he’s about to leave when suddenly he whirls on the spot to face the apothecary directly. He seems to hesitate, an odd expression crossing his facial disk but after a few moments he speaks.
“Ah... by the way, Drywood. Do you test your… medicines on parus?
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 11:16 am
Almost pathetically pleased to be praised for his manners, for a moment Drywood forgot his sense of impending doom and his smile widened. It stayed as wide even when he was once again reminded that he would have to meet this charming Bard Lady soon, but his ear tufts sank back, and when he tried to reassure the Storyteller about the safety of his companion, his voice failed him.
He barely noticed that Hollysong was headed for the exit. The Apothecary was staring at an undefinable point in space with an expression that could be seen as contemplative. In reality, his mind felt so empty that it almost hurt.
So he was quite startled to suddenly hear Hollysong ask him about his research. He hadn't expected that. His mind switched gears so quickly that it left him feeling quite dizzy, as if he had just been awakened from a deep slumber.
He roused his feathers and blinked once at the Storyteller. "Well... yes. Of course." He tilted his head in confusion, frowning slightly. "...Why?"
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