[PRP] A New Happenstance (Wyeth and Faelwyn)

[Cajmera]

 

[Cajmera]

So much suffering...so much pain...so much stress and turmoil and throwing of life into chaos.

~~~

It wasn't the great fire that specifically preyed on Wyeth's thoughts, though he was still within range of the scent of char and ash. It wasn't the death of the Kawani human who had been his mother's companion prior to her marriage, though he could still see the expression in Elizabeth's face when she'd thought she was alone with her grief. It wasn't the horror of the great battles with the Kalona Herd so few months before, or the grimness of the battlefield when the fight was done and all that remained were the dead, dying, and wounded. It wasn't even his own guilt and shame at his cowardice in the face of the original Kalona incursion.

Nor, at the same time, was it a 'smaller' matter that so preoccupied Wyeth's attention; not his shock that Raines had apparently brought home a mare to the Summit, or that he himself had some scars from the Kalona war that just would not fade; not that his mother was apparently staying in the Lowlands 'until further notice' or even that, perhaps most shockingly of all, his father Ambroise, who had been born, bred, and brought up in the mountains and never expressed anything but disdain for the Lowlands, was doing the same.

No, it was not one thing that preyed on Wyeth's mind. It was everything.

~~~

When Elizabeth had asked him to accompany her to the Lowlands after the Great Fire, Wyeth hadn't needed even a moment to consider before saying 'yes.' He had his duty to the Summit, of course, but his duty to his parents was just as important. More to the point, there was no way his mother could be allowed to venture into the Lowlands alone. It wasn't too many months past that the Kalona herd had disbursed, and there were too many reports that members of the herd were still in the area. Elizabeth might have spent many years in the Lowlands before settling down with his father, but that didn't mean she was capable of dealing with the threats now in existence.

It did bother him that his father was not to be told. After all, Ambroise had a right to be informed that his lifemate was planning to venture down the mountain into potentially dangerous situations. Heck, he had a right to know she was going, regardless of the destination. But Elizabeth had been adamant; she would not wait, not even for Ambroise, before starting off. It had pained Wyeth to see his mother in such a state; she had verged on wild, with regard to her expression and tone. So in the end, mother and son had set off together down the mountain, with the intent to send word back to Ambroise when there was something to report. On the way, they had encountered one of the other Summit scouts, and Wyeth had been able to set his mind at ease by sending a message back for his father.

~~~

As Elizabeth was a unicorn and lacked the wings that made speedy travel possible, it had taken several days for them to reach the village where Elizabeth's two legged friend lived. But long before they made it, they had entered what Wyeth personally felt to be a circle of hell. He'd seen the battlefield; he'd fought, wounded, and been injured in turn. He'd healed wounds that would have turned the strongest of stomachs, his included. But the Lowland Plains, scorched by fire, were a new kind of horror. Nothing green remained; everything was burned, blackened, and twisted. Most disturbingly of all, that included bodies, both human and Soquili.

Elizabeth was a unicorn, he himself was an alicorn. Each had the power to heal, tempered and trained by experience. But in order to heal, there still had to be life. These blackened corpses had once been alive, but now they were nothing more than remains to be buried.

~~~

A premonition of the worst had kept Elizabeth awake far too long the night before they were to reach the village, and her wakefulness in turn kept Wyeth awake. He had done his best to try and soothe her, to convince her to sleep, but nothing had come of it. Mother and son had remained awake, silent and brooding.

When they came to the tepee circle that had been Liz's home for all those years and seen the damage, Wyeth had been filled with dread. He'd only met the Kawani woman once or twice when he was much younger, so he had no great love for her. But he knew how strongly his mother felt things, and he couldn't begin to imagine how much pain a tragedy of this magnitude would give her. Once more, he cursed himself silently for not insisting they talk to Ambroise before leaving; he'd never seen his father in this sort of situation before, so he had no idea how Ambroise would deal with it, but it seemed the sort of situation where a lifemate would be of greater value than a son.

Still, he had tried. He had attempted to have Liz stay back while he investigated the char himself, but she had been quite determined: he must stay back while she investigated, alone.

~~~

If he could block that day from his memory forever, he would. He doubted he would ever be able to forget the haunted, grief-stricken expression on Liz's face when she cleared the bodies of Cajji and an unknown Soquili. The rest of that long, horrible day, Wyeth had worked to dig out a grave and collect stones for the burial. Elizabeth had been silent as she arranged and tidied the area, unwilling or unable to speak. It had been late that night when they were finished, and had gone to sleep with fitful dreams.

~~~

Soon thereafter, they had found the remaining members of the Kawani village. Some of them, Elizabeth had known when she was younger, and many teary reunions followed. Wyeth had been unsurprised when his mother told him her intention to stay on and help the villagers, but he still rather wished she would go back and talk to Ambroise about it first.

His father had always been a Soquili of rigid principals when it came to certain things, one of those things being the Lowlands. As far as Ambroise was concerned, it seemed there was exactly one positive thing which had ever come out of the Lowlands: Elizabeth herself. Beyond that, there was little, if nothing to recommend a place that was, apparently, the height of ignorance and barbarity.

Needless to say, Wyeth was not looking forward to his father's reaction to the news that Liz was going to stay in the Lowlands for who knows how long. He was even less looking forward to the fact that he was going to be the one to have to tell him...

~~~

You could have knocked Wyeth over with a feather when he, barely gone from his mother and the temporary village, ran into his father. The fact that Ambroise was in the Lowlands was surprising, if not unexpected given Elizabeth and Wyeth's departure. What truly floored him, though, was the news that Ambroise intended to stay with Liz until such a time as she meant to leave.

For Ambroise to leave the Summit for any length of time was surprising, but an open-ended time? To stay in the Lowlands, in a village setting, of all things? Wyeth would have been less shocked to learn that Ambroise had decided to amputate his wings.

But that was that, and with Ambroise's arrival, Wyeth no longer needed to find him and relay his message. Realistically, he ought to return to the Summit promptly anyway and resume his duties as a border guard.

But he didn't want to.

~~~

Wyeth had always been a child of duty. Like a little sponge, he had soaked up every word of his parents' teachings about duty and honor to his family, to his herd, to his responsibilities. He had started combat training as early as possible, and had graduated to his own border post in due time. He took his responsibilities very seriously and was a dutiful son, brother, grandson, and herdmate.

But events had chipped away at the serene confidence that had always been Wyeth's. His brother had deviated from the path and disagreed with their father, which had ultimately lead to Raines leaving the Summit to do...something. The peace of the Summit had been broken by news of Skinwalkers, and then more dramatically by the events of the Kalona herd. Wyeth had faced his greatest trial, his greatest triumphs, and his greatest shame as a result of that war, and couldn't say with any honesty that he felt the same serenity now as he had before.

~~~

So, after some reflection he decided to take some time himself before returning to the Summit. He had flown past the char and burned area, finally alighting near one of the many Lowland streams in an area still green, amidst a small grove of trees. Having ascertained it was quiet and peaceful and he wasn't intruding on anyone, he settled down in the grass to graze and think.  

[Uta]

Cajmera

Faelwyn was exhausted.

Mentally, physically, emotionally, the mare would have never expected such an extreme turn of events to what had, only weeks prior, been a quiet, mundane life back in her jungles. Everything had been safe, everything had been routine, and the mare had enjoyed tending the gardens and neighboring jungles. Down in the Rose Court, the young princess had known her place. . . while her siblings had gone off wildly to explore the world, Faelwyn had found herself far too coy to leave the world she had known. She did not have a very strong spirit, and might even have been considered a coward, but . . . . her anxious and terribly shy heart had never gotten better with age.

It was a terrible thing, really, and the aqua eyed mare had often struggled getting over her fears and painful shyness. To those that she did warm up to, she could be very kind, generous, and considerate; she grew up under the premise that she was royalty, and therefor, needed to always set her best hoof forward. She had a reputation to fulfill, and while she knew what was expected of her, sometimes it wasn't easy. Still, the nervous young mare tried to be a good ambassador in those parts of the jungle, and she made do as best she could.

Everything had been going just fine and as planned -- the grasses were green, the exotic flora were growing lush and thick, the lands of the Court were quiet and serene. But new rumors began to strr. There had been talk of drought up north, and while the summer rains had been less frequent than some years, their jungles did not suffer as the lands further north. Still, her family had been insistent on taking a trip up north, to investigate the drought, to see if they might not offer some sort o aid. Muriel was, after all, an angeni of flowers. . . . could she not perhaps aid such dry land, encourage flora to be renewed?

And so, with Faelwyn in two, the family had journeyed north to offer what aid they could. It was a good experience in itself, for while Faelwyn did not do well on her own, she had the comfort of her family with her. Unfortunately, though, shortly after their arrival the fire struck, and they were all present for its devastation. It had been unlike anything the pale mare had seen, and it broke her heart to see miles upon miles of dead land; to see those that did not make it out of the flames alive, both tribesman and soquili alike!

So, the family stayed.

There was no way they would fast return. The land could use tending, the hearts healing, and the entire village needed to be rebuilt. Though it was out of her comfort zone, Faelwyn kept no complaint. How could she? The poor animals, plants, soquili and people that had been so displaced over nothing! Even with the fires out, the waters had not yet fully returned, and the drought was no sooner ended than it had begun.

Still, it was not easy on such a gentle mare.

It seemed ages since her coat hadn't been stained black and grey with ash and dust; that she'd seen any land of true color and growth, outside of the burnt grounds or dry, dead grasslands of the plains. While she had no powers, unlike her mother, she at least could offer emotional support. A shoulder for strangers to cry on, a body strong enough to carry what goods might be needed, and a knowledge of plants to help spread future growth. She was not nearly as familiar with the northern flora as those in her native jungles, but she was fast learning thanks to her mother, and had learned some while on the trip up. So, the mare found herself well out of her element; helping strangers, plowing the earth, planting seeds, encouraging new life, often seeking out water and more edible forests and fields, returning to the village laden with baskets full of edible plant life and man made jars full of water. Back and forth, her wings taking her all over the plains and neighboring foothills, hoping to help aid in what ways she could. It was good work, for all that it left the mare exhausted. She was doing good, they were all coming together, and it left little time for Faelwyn to worry.

Today was no exception.

She was on foraging duty, and with a few baskets attached, the mare had found herself seeking out a small, nearby stream. It wasn't terribly far from the village, and while she was certain the more obvious plan life might already be picked over, she thought to give it a try anyway. Her wings were heavy, and her body sore. She . . . was tired, and if she did not have to fly as far this day, her wings would appreciate it. At the very least, she might take a drink, and eat some grasses, before flying further upstream. So it was, she landed not far from the waters. In her exhaustion, she only noticed the grazing Wyeth too late, standing on the opposite bank. Part of her almost shrunk back in shyness, in embarrassment, but. . . the water called.

On the one hoof, she worried the other might think her lazy, or thoughtless, for stopping to drink in an area that was so clearly over-foraged. She didn't recognize the alicorn, but then again, she didn't know many in the Kawani itself. For as hard work as she did, she was not good at bonding with others, and often forgot the names of all the other soquili she worked with -- there were so many, of different backgrounds, breeds, colors and sizes. Still, she hoped the other might not find her presence offensive. Anxiety gripped her, but quickly, nervously, she stepped towards the water. Just one quick drink . . a few sips to clear the dust from her tongue.
 

[Cajmera]

Wyeth may have been far away from home and in a meditative frame of mind, but he was still a child of the Summit. More to the point, he was child of Ambroise, and a trained border guard of many years’ standing. As such, it was impossible for him to ‘shut off’ his awareness of the world around him, even while grazing. He had heard the wing beats before their owner had come into sight, unconsciously tensing as the unknown flier approached. The beats were very powerful, and his first thought had been that a Kalona, or a Kalona winged Soquili, was approaching his position rapidly. He’d allowed himself a quick glance upwards then, and had relaxed when he realized his mistake; the beats were strong, yes, but that seemed to be because there were four wings involved in the flight, rather than the standard two.

An Angeni.

He’d seen Angenis before, of course; there were a few with their distinctive wings who had connection to the Summit. But he himself had never had more than a cursory glance at those Soquili, as he and they seemed to move in very different circles. That he knew they existed was about the extent of his knowledge, and as such, he was able to identify the mare. He watched her approach with mild, curious interest, thinking as she did so that there really were Soquili of all types all over the Kawani lands.

He had thought she was going to continue on past him, but when she began to descend, he realized with some surprise that she too was coming down to this little out-of the way spot. At once, he recalled his gaze, flicking it from the mare back to the grass where he was grazing. No matter how novel the sight, it was rude to stare. He didn’t need to be watching her, potentially making her uncomfortable, to know where she was. At this distance, his ears could do that.

So he kept his attention outwardly on his grazing, but kept an ear on the mare as she landed, paused, then approached the water. He really shouldn’t have been surprised, he reflected; there was so much ash in the air that everyone in the region was likely taking drinks at every opportunity. He gave her a few minutes to finish her drink, then lifted his head from his grazing to give her his most courteous bow. She was a mare, after all, and it would be rude to pretend to ignore her, especially as such a close distance. In his quiet, mild voice, he offered a friendly, “Hello. I hope you find the water as soothing as I did when I landed; I know this ash can be very grating to the throat and lungs.”

Uta

 

[Uta]

The cool water felt absolutely amazing against her parched tongue, and she couldn't resist half-gulping down the water. It wasn't the most ladylike thing to do, and she desperately tried to sip in the strangers presence, but to wash out the stain of ash and dust, to quench her growing thirst made it difficult to resist. Thankfully, the stranger seemingly left her alone. . . and she almost forgot about him.

It was only when Wyeth spoke that the mare finished up her drink, and lifted her head. She was still fatigued, but the water was cooling, refreshing to her spirit as well as her tongue. Shy as she might be, the quiet mare knew her manners, and certainly wasn't going to pretend she hadn't heard. The stream wasn't that large, and it was easy enough to hear his words. So it was, bright aqua eyes looked up to the other, and she offered a very shy, very small smile, before dropping her gaze. It wouldn't do to stare, though she also knew it to be polite to look another eye when speaking.

Oh, the etiquette of manners! If only she could be as brave as her sisters, or brothers. They weren't afraid of anything, and here she was, trying to convince herself to talk, trying to convince herself that her words were just as powerful as any others. Ah, but it was difficult. . . She had never been particularly bold or brave, outspoken or comfortable being the source of attention.

Today was no different.

Still, she remembered, as always, the delicate crown upon her head and that it was a princess of the Flower Court's duty to be amicable, helpful, charming, respectful, and above all else, a good ambassador. Faelwyn understood she was far from charming, but she would try. She always tried.

"Sal. . Salutation," she responded with a small hesitation, trying to keep her words calm. She offered a smile, though it was quick and fleeting. "The water was very s-soothing, very refreshing. Are the . . are the grasses sweet? I know . . . f-food and drink can be a bit of a c-commodity in these parts." Oh. . . oh was she talking too much? Was she rambling on?

Maybe.

Still, her worst offense was no even offering a name! Or bowing back! Quickly, she offered a very low, very respectful bow back, as she had been taught. "Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner. I'm F-Faelwyn, of the Flower Court. It's good to meet you." Oh, her stutter would be the end of her. The little nervous habit was terribly hard to keep under wraps, though it was substantially better than her foalhood days. It wasn't terrible, and when relaxed sometimes wasn't even noticed at all . . .

But these days were tough, and stressful, and the pale mare was far from at ease.

Cajmera

 

[Cajmera]

Wyeth had no idea the amount of internal turmoil his presence and his simple greeting had caused the mare. Indeed, if he had had even the most remote inkling before speaking that he would throw the mare into such disorder, he would have kept his mouth firmly shut. He hadn't been raised to cause discomfort to mares.

Still, it didn't take a genius to realize that she was uncomfortable. Wyeth had limited experience with stammering, but it had always belied nervousness or discomfort. He was instantly contrite, taking note of her soft voice, lowered head, stammering, and general air of nervousness. With as much rapidity as he could, he pulled his wings in tighter, brought down his own head, and generally sucked himself down into a smaller, hopefully less-threatening package. He couldn't leave now, not now that conversation had started, but he could try to make her as comfortable as possible, within their parameters.

Except what were the parameters? Was she nervous because he was a stranger? Because he was a stallion? Because he'd talked to her first? Whatever it was, he couldn't undo being it or having done it, not when it was done.

So he gave her his most gracious smile, one that was restrained and showed minimal teeth. He'd never been the 'big, toothy grin' sort of stallion, and he wasn't about to start that now. He also made no indication he had heard the stammer, merely jumping back into the conversation with smooth ease. "The grasses are passable, and definitely an improvement over what I've been eating the last few days. Still, I can't in honestly call them sweet; we would have to travel much farther before food is anything more than passable, I'm sorry to say." His smile took on a sadder, more reflective note as he contemplated the destruction of the Plains region. It might not be his home or his people, but it would take a hardened heart to not feel for them.

Though obviously, his feelings were not extending to encompass all of the social niceties expected of him. As the mare...Faelwyn...introduced herself, Wyeth felt his face flush; as the stallion and the instigator of the conversation, he should have introduced himself first. Too late to rectify that, but he could at least try to 'catch up.'

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Faelwyn of the Flower Court. My name is Wyeth, of the Hourglass Summit." He'd never heard of the Flower Court; wherever it was located, it probably wasn't a mountain based herd. That probably meant she wasn't familiar with the Summit, but that didn't mean he couldn't put the name out there anyway. He was proud of his home and his lineage, after all, just as she obviously was of her own. And why shouldn't they be? Herds and homes were important; wasn't that why they were both here, helping out the Kawani Soquili? Or had been here, in his case?

"My apologies for not introducing myself sooner, I just wasn't sure if you would be leaving after your drink. And please, don't feel you have to stay to talk to me, if you're uncomfortable. Though I also don't want you to feel you have to leave, for any reason; I have no proprietary stake in this spot, and I would welcome your conversation for however long you're here." That was hardly graceful, but at least it was honest!

"Are you also here to help with the relief and reconstruction efforts?"

Uta

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

...I forgot how adorable Wyeth was in this post. xD Look at him, trying to be such a polite gent! D'awwwww.

The mare watched as the stallion seemed to try his best to visibly shrink -- with the way his wings were now tucked, and his lowered head -- she couldn't help but worry. Oh, oh dear, she hadn't meant to make him stand in what could only be an uncomfortable position, especially if he held his wings in for so long! Still, the realization that he must of read her anxiety and reacted to it warmed her heart -- it was a very kind gesture. It wasn't as if Faelwyn was afraid of him... she just had never been very good around strangers, and her anxiety peaked because she knew there were expectations in etiquette. She was a princess, she was expected to do great deeds and always be prim, proper, charming, and ever a lady! While Faelwyn tried to follow such rules, she also knew she needed to be graceful, wise, patient, kind, bold, welcoming, polite, considerate, sincere, funny, good conversation, intelligent, and any number of everything. Oh, the young mare simply felt a fool over how a single interaction could leave her so overwhelmed -- but she didn't ever wish to let herself, or her family, down.

Little did Faelwyn know was how such guides were simply that -- guides. Her family had never any expectation for the mare to follow all of the rules to a T, but the young mare had taken them at their word and her studies ever seriously.

"Oh, you are q-q-quite right," she conceded with a sad nod of her head, lowering it in a moments recollection of the tragedy she'd only temporary left behind. She would need to return to them later this evening, after she'd filled her sacks and baskets with some sort of eateries. Perhaps not here, though. "Even after c-c-clearing my throat, the ash has seemingly stained m tongue." She wondered how long it would take for the area to truly clean up, for new life to grow. This world was not at all like her beloved jungles. While fires could happen, the lush landscape was prime for growth. She'd never seen a fire as bad as the tragedy here in the north. . . Nor such a dry world!

So, this was Wyeth . . . of the Hourglass Summit. The name was not one she'd ever heard of, but it certainly sounded exotic. Summit sounded like the mountains or hills, but perhaps that was a broad assumption. She had met many from various herds, though this was the first time she had an opportunity to take time to talk. Things were so rushed in the plains (understandably so!) that idle chit-chat was difficult to do. At least here she had a few moments to call herself. . .

"It is v-very good to meet you, Sir," she spoke, giving another small bow of her head. Deciding that speaking across the small stream was no way to go about conversing politely, Faelwyn decided she might as well cross. Hesitating but a moment, she flared her wings, and with a little leap, she crossed the banks. The stream wasn't particularly wide, so it was easy, and she hoped her closer presence wouldn't crowd the stranger. "Conversation would be . . . quite w-w-welcome. I hope you d-don't mind me lingering a moment... I haven't had a moment to th-th-think, much less converse." A pang of guilt struck the mare, knowing that she was lingering when there was still work to be done. Endless amounts of work, really. Still, she didn't wish to be rude, either. . . Surely a moment or two wouldn't be an issue. "Oh, I . . I am, actually." She supposed it wasn't too surprising - -many in these lands, especially closer to the plains, were part of the relief effort. "My f-f-family and I were on holiday here when it happened, but we surely c-c-couldn't turn our backs on such p-pain. And yourself, k-kind sir?"

 

[Cajmera]

Wyeth had no idea that he was so transparent; if he had realized that Faelwyn had noticed him 'shrinking', he no doubt would have changed color once again. He liked to think he was a seasoned, worldly stallion, but the truth was that when it came to things such as normal social interaction, he was woefully out of his element. His mother, who had played the greatest role in shaping his 'social manners' had been a creature from another world, a Soquili whose own formative years had been spent among English aristocracy. Compared to most of the Soquili in the Kawani lands, Elizabeth's manners could politely be referred to as 'formal.' And as far as his father was concerned...well, no one could ever accuse Ambroise of being a social butterfly; he had always been direct, almost to the point of bluntness (or rudeness), depending on who you asked. There had been other relatives around as Wyeth grew, but it was his parents who had done the most towards shaping their son's behavior.

And the end result? A combat-trained stallion with overly formal manners who had no idea how to do certain basic things like simply being casual! It was a gaping hole in Wyeth's training, and one that he had no idea even existed!

So when Faelwyn leapt across the small stream to join him on his side of the river, Wyeth only thought that his attempt to appear less menacing had been a success. Smiling a bit wider with relief, he gave her a gentle nod of agreement, both at what she was saying and her new position. "Well, I hope the stream helps clear your throat a bit, but unfortunately I think we're all going to be tasting ash until we've left this region far behind." A bit blunt, perhaps; that was his father's influence at work! But as far as Wyeth knew, it was the truth; he'd only been down in the region for a few weeks, and it seemed like the ash had become part of his taste buds. How he longed for the clear water and air of the slopes!

But having said that, he smiled and shook his head at Faelwyn. "Please, you have no reason to call me 'sir;' I know we've only just met, but please feel free to call me Wyeth. I've never been called anything else, not even by my little brother when we were children." They'd never really had much need for nicknames, he and Raines! "It might help make the conversation a bit easier, us being on a first name basis...if you're comfortable with that, that is." Belatedly, he realized that she may have called him 'sir' because she herself wasn't comfortable with the familiarity of a first-name basis, and the last thing he wanted was to force her into a degree of intimacy she didn't want!

"So really, whatever you want to call me is fine, and we can talk at any speed. I'm not really a great conversationalist myself; that is, I can speak nicely, but I'm not really a great speaker when it comes to saying profound things." That certainly sounded profound...not!

Though he had to say, it sounded like Faelwyn herself came from a very thoughtful family! Imagine, them all throwing themselves into the relief effort for strangers to such a degree! If she was any indication, with her ashen body and her tired eyes, he could only imagine how dedicated they must be to the cause. Honestly, it made his exit seem a lot more crass, and he shuffled a bit uncomfortably as he replied. "Your family sounds very caring, Faelwyn, and I'm sure the people and Soquili here appreciate it. I've only been here for a few weeks myself, and I'm actually on my way back home to the Summit now." He closed his eyes, the horrible images from the past few weeks flashing before them. "My mother was a native of these parts before she lifemated my father, and she had to come down and help when she heard of the disaster. Since my father was busy, I had the privilege of escorting her down; it's a very long journey, and my mother has no wings."

Plus, his father would have scalped him if Wyeth had let Elizabeth leave on her own, and she wasn't willing to wait for Ambroise to come home and go with her!

Uta

It's a vicious cycle of cute!

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

I actually wrote this reply in December. . . and forgot to post it. D'oh!

Faelwyn was relieved that the stallion seemed to be a bit of a gentleman. It wasn’t that she demanded such a thing – hardly – but it was easier to relax around strangers that weren’t pushy. Now that she was over the water, the mare was better able to try to relax around the stranger. She was, of course, representing the Flower Court. . . no matter how shy she felt, she had to put her best hoof forward, even if it were covered in soot. Thankfully, this rainbow winged stallion was nothing but polite, and that was nice. Still, as much as she wanted to drink, she would refrain. She was a lady, and she wasn’t going to be rude to the stranger before her. “Oh! Apologies I . . . If you prefer Wyeth, I . . I don’t mind calling you that, Sir. I mean,” she quickly corrected herself, a little flush of color deepening on her nose, “Wyeth.” Sir and Miss or Lady were all terms she was accustomed hearing and referring to others by. . . She honestly had never met anyone whom she could be on such an informal name basis with!

But, then again, Faelwyn was also beginning to understand just how sheltered she happened to be. If there was one thing this journey and misfortune had taught her, it was that she was a very small blip in a very great world. Thankfully, she liked to think her gathering food for those still displaced was as good a help as she might offer. The fire had been a tragedy, and while she missed her familiar jungles, another part of her couldn’t help but wonder about all the sorts that did give their aid. Why, even this orange alicorn confessed to being from the mountains! “It’s a small thing, what my family and I did, along with so many. . . but I hope it did some good. Is doing,” she corrected with a small fluff of her headwings. “It was a tragedy, but it. . . It brought so many together whom might never have met or crossed paths before. I suppose that’s a little silver lining, despite the . . . sadness of it all.” And it was sad.

Still, the mare was quick to change the topic, and instead offered the vibrant coated stallion a shy smile. “I am glad you get to return. I don’t know when we’re leaving for the jungles, but I suspect we’ll be here a few weeks longer. There are no pressing needs down in our jungles, thankfully, so I suspect we’ll linger. I’ve not been to the mountains, but . . . I hope you’ve a safe and swift recovery.” Physically. Emotionally. Dealing with these sorts of tragedies was hard on the heart as much as they were the body, and Faelwyn didn’t doubt he’d need some good rest. “Also, please, don’t worry about not being a good conversationalist! I think you’re doing just fine, truly!” She hastily assured, not wanting the other to think poorly of himself. “I. . . I am not very good at it, either.” She dipped her head, her small, blackened crown slipping forward on her brow. It felt silly to wear, but she’d had it ever since she was a filly. Her mother wore one proudly, so why shouldn’t she? “I suppose that makes for good company though, if nothing else.”
 

[Cajmera]

Well, the two of them weren't going to be winning any awards for easily flowing conversation any time soon, but Wyeth was nonetheless pleased with how things were going. Faelwyn was proving to be a very courteous mare with a very genteel, polite way of speaking; as a fellow polite speaker, he appreciated that. He'd grown up hearing his father's rants against the Lowlands; one of Ambroise's many points of dislike was the easy familiarity that so many Lowland Soquili tended to embrace. As a stickler for morals and propriety, it was no wonder that Ambroise disliked that sort of behavior; it was even more logical that as the child of Ambroise and the even more primer Elizabeth Swann, Wyeth would be just like them and more. So once it was established that Faelwyn was calling him 'Sir' out of habit rather than out of a personal desire to be referred to formally herself, he was able to relax and enjoy himself more. It was a nice change of pace to be talking to someone socially rather than in an aid-worker sort of way.

Even if the conversation was connected to the tragedy; there was really no way to avoid that sombering fact, given that they were currently both ashen. But it was still something. "Yes, the number of Soquili who have been giving their time and their resources and their help in general has been remarkable. It really gives one hope in Soquili as a race, don't you think? I mean," he hastened to add, not wanting her to think that he was a cynic, "it just seems like there have been so many bad things happening lately in the land; not just the fire, but the war, and the drought...it can make a Soquili feel kind of...bleak.? So it's nice to see the opposite side of the spectrum; to see rain, and flowers, and people helping one another." The smile that finished off that speech was genuine; this might not be Wyeth's home or his herd, but they were all Soquili.

Like Faelwyn and her family, who were apparently from a jungle! "Thank you, I'm looking forward to being home again soon. It was nice to be able to help out here, but it's just not what I'm used to. And I have responsibilities at home, important responsibilities." He frowned, thinking about it. In fact, with his father down in the Lowlands until further notice, he probably had even more to do than usual. Not that he was going to be in charge; that role wouldn't be his to fill for some time. But with Ambroise out of the border guard pool, there would be more territory needing coverage. All the more reason for him to return home in a timely fashion.

But he was glad to take the time to talk to Faelwyn, so he shook off the thoughts of his waiting responsibilities. "Well, that must be nice for your family, to be able to move about and take time to do things you want. I'm sure the people here are appreciating your efforts, especially with your nice smile," he added with a slightly shy bob of his head. He was no flirt, but she DID have a nice smile, and it really ought to be complimented! "It helps the conversation, as awkward that conversation might be," Wyeth added. "But we don't have to be too awkward, right?" Smiling, he added, "I've never been to the jungles before; what's it like?"

Uta

I've done that before!

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

I think I forgot Faelwyn has a very slight stutter sometimes. . . <<

The more Wyeth spoke, the less anxious the mare felt. He wasn't nearly as intimidating as she had initially feared, and that was an absolutely wonderful thing. Faelwyn had always been painfully shy, and easily intimidated by strangers; conversation and sociability came so easy to her sisters and brothers that the young mare sometimes felt a bit alien. She didn't know how they came upon such bravery and she did not -- how quickly her siblings had flown the coop and left then nest, ready to take on the world. Faelwyn was a bit of a late bloomer, and though she was aware of her shortcomings, getting over them was still a bit of a challenge. A selfish silver-lining of volunteering her time was that it was forcing the mare to face some of her fears.

Thankfully, Wyeth seemed as warm a soul as the colors that graced his coat. He was not dominating the conversation, had all the making of a gentleman, and was naturally interesting. She had never met so many soquili from so many different backgrounds as she had during her aid work. There were so many soquili of different ages, shapes, sizes, and temperaments! Though she was anxious to return to her familiar gardens and jungles, a small part of Faelwyn wasn't sure she wasn't going to miss being surrounded by such culture. "Oh, no, I agree completely," she conceded with a firm nod of her head, and a small flare of her headwings. "It's good to see that, when things might seem particularly bleak or difficult, that there's always some hope out there. No one is ever truly alone, and no one has to go through these trying times without support. It's . . . encouraging to see, for I feel that often soquili might forget that. Herds can be so isolated, or individuals stuck in their own routine, that it's easy to forget we're all in this world together. There's still some beauty in this time of pain, if . . . if p-perhaps it's not too soon or too bold of me to say so," she added quickly, hoping that the other might not be offended by her words.

Yes, there had been many tragedies within these northern lands, but it seemed the locals would persevere. Thankfully, the conversation took a turn towards home -- his home, his duties, and his desire to be there. "Well then, Sir, I do hope that the winds might be f-favorable for your journey. I have no doubt that your family and homelands need you, and it's commendable that you have not forgotten them." It would be easy, she figured, for one to cast aside the less pressing needs of others amid the flurry of events in the Lowlands. Them are wanted to ask him what he did . . .but. . didn't dare. His duties seemed terribly important -- he had said so himself! -- that she could not help but be curious. She knew what her own familial duties were, and her duties being that of the Flower Court, but she was curious what Wyeth might do. Was he a guard? A diplomat? An entertainer? A family man? Alas, she did not feel she was familiar enough with him to ask so she refrained. His business was not her own, after all, and it would be best to be polite.

The compliment caused her nose to darken, and she couldn't help but give a small laugh. Nobody had ever said she had a nice smile before -- he was far too kind! "You're t-too kind, but th-thank you," she quickly stated, offering him a cordial dip of her head. "Anything that can be done to help,after all." Thankfully, Wyeth was kind and had questioned what the jungles were like. Now that was a topic Faelwyn did feel confident in, and her blue eyes brightened considerably. "Oh, it's beautiful, really. Not that these lands aren't without their own beauty -- the hills, the mountains, the seas of grass -- but the jungles are simply different. Everything is green, and there are flowers in season all year round; there's moisture, daily rains, and foliage of every type you can imagine. There's more color, I feel, though I am well aware of my bias, and that the land I've seen most has been thoroughly damaged." She didn't want Wyeth to think her judging the lowlands, but they were so different. "Still, I . . . I think I miss it, just a little. There was a warmth in it that has nothing to do with the temperature." Ah, but she would return sooner than later, she knew. Her family could not, and would not, stay in the fields forever. "And what, if I might ask, are your mountains like?" Perhaps it was prying but it took two to converse, and it would not be fair for him to inquire about her home, and not show interest in his own. Besides, she was curious.
 

[Cajmera]

As Faelwyn spoke, Wyeth couldn't help but nod along. He was no rosy-eyed optimist, but he had to agree that the current disaster was proving just how altruistic and helpful the overall Soquili community could be. Well, he thought with a slightly grim tightening of his mouth, the current tragedy was only cementing behavioral patterns already established during the previous tragedy, the brutal Kalona herd invasion. If he was a fatalistic Soquili, he'd most likely be feeling a bit depressed right about now; it seemed as though the Kawani lands just couldn't catch a break these past couple years! Still, it was nice to know that hardship was drawing the land together; it would be so easy for everyone outside of the affected areas to just say 'not my problem' and move on. Though thinking that made him give a slight mental squirm; is that what he was doing, abandoning the relief effort because it wasn't his problem?

No, he told himself sharply, that wasn't it. He had a duty to his herd and his home, particularly now while other members of his herd were actually contributing to the relief efforts. He'd already done what he was gifted to do: heal. Now it was time for the grunt work, and there were plenty of other grunts to pitch in.

Still, it was something to think about, and he knew it would be a long time before he was truly able to push those thoughts from his mind. He'd always been one to brood, when given the opportunity; he'd been raised and trained to act properly, but as recent events had demonstrated, his mind wasn't always in step with his training.

But now wasn't the time to brood, he thought with another slight internal shake. Not here, not now, not when Faelwyn was being so polite and friendly. Giving her his slight smile, he bobbed his head in acceptance of her well-wishes. "I thank you for that, Faelwyn; it can be a long trip, but fortunately the winds are blowing the correct direction to buoy me along; with a good tailwind, the trip that can take weeks on foot is reduced to practically nothing. And considering how long I've already been absent, a timely return is likely for the best." With another bob of his head, he added, "And please, don't feel compelled to call me 'Sir,' Wyeth is perfectly fine."

As Faelwyn went into her description of the jungles, he couldn't help but listen with interest; the place she was describing sounded so completely foreign to Wyeth, even with the common reference point of the Lowlands to draw on. A place always green, always flowering, always raining? It certainly didn't sound like his mountainous home, that was for sure. "Well, it sounds like a very beautiful place, if a bit on the soggy side," he said with a smile. "Are the rains strong enough to hinder flight? I know that's a problem I've encountered from time to time in summer storms, and it can be downright troublesome. Though such things are pretty rare around my home." He was more than happy to describe the Summit to Faelwyn; it might pale in some ways next to the visual buffet of her jungle, but he doubted she had anything close to his views!

"Well, there is a lot less color than you'd be used to," he said frankly. "It can get pretty cold in the higher elevations, and winter lasts much longer. Snow is common, especially in the higher parts of our herdlands, though my parents and I actually live lower down the slopes. The highest point is the home of my grandparents, who used to be the herd Alpha and Protector," he said with no small amount of pride. "My parents have taken over their responsibilities in the herd, but Gram and Grandpa are still very active." As if retiring could ever slow down Yei; as if ANYTHING could ever slow down Yei! "The summer is short, but can be intense; we don't have a lot in the way of plants, but what we have is hardy and beautiful...and can be very tasty! There are lots of waterfalls and streams, and even hot springs in some of the craggier areas. And of course, nothing can beat the view; you can see for miles and miles," he finished with a somewhat fond smile. There was nothing like the 'view from the top.'

Uta

Whoops!

 

[Uta]

Cajmera

"The rains happen almost all year, and usually aren't terrible hindrances on flight. There are a f-few months in winter where the monsoons roll in, and d-d-during the heavier storms, its not advisable to make the attempt. Everything winds up a bit waterlogged then, I'm afraid. Thankfully," she added, "There are c-caves and hillsides to burrow in, or larger trees to nest beneath t-to avoid the worst of the soaking."

Faelwyn listened to the stallion describe his home, as well as how short of a trip by wing it seemed to be! She supposed the favorable winds helped, and she turned her bright blue eyes towards the direction of the mountains. The great peaks had been a visual she had looked at often in the plains, curious about the great rocks that crowned the northern. They were unlike anything she had ever seen, and it surprised her that an entire herd had made the mountains their home. She would have thought the slopes would have been challenging to live on, but clearly, not enough to deter Wyeth much less an entire herd.

"Oh, it sounds quite d-d-different, but so exotic," she complimented with a less shy smile. Her head wings gave a little happy ruffle as she attempted to visualize everything he mentioned -- strange lands, hot summer, snow! "I've never seen snow, b-but I know it's white and . . . very c-cold. Is it hard to live with? If everything is d-d-dead what do you eat? If . .. if you d-don't mind me asking," she hastily added, flushing a bit. She didn't want the stranger to think her prying into his affairs, but if he were on his way home, then she doubted she would ever see him again.

"Oh! Waterfalls!" The mention of that was enough to send Faelwyn almost into a trill of delight. "We have falls in the j-j-jungles, and th-they are such a delight. I would have never guessed your m-m-mountains sport such a thing. Shows how much I know," she smiled, truly pleased to be learning so much about a far distant land. Ah, the stories she would get to tell her parents though. . . . though it was very likely her parents and siblings were all quite aware about mountains. Faelwyn was the homebody, after all, the princess of the Flower Court that wasn't confident or adventurous enough to strike out alone.

Oh well. At least she knew, and Sir Wyeth was being such a gentleman about her curiosity, too.

The stallion had every right to be proud as he confessed his lineage. To be the grandson and son of a herd's Alpha and Protector was surely a respectable position. She herself was of a similar title, though her own herd was substantially smaller. "It's nice that your f-family seems well established -and so c-cozy!- high up in those peaks. Perhaps when th-this is all over, when my f-f-family is ready for another worldly excursion, I shall suggest more mountainous t-terrain."