Isolder threaded his hands through his hair attempting to get the shampoo all the way through the thick mess. He hated and loved bath time equally. He was sure that others enjoyed it more when they didn't have to worry about their hair wrapping around them and dragging them under the water like a released cracken. He chuckled at himself and winced at the knots he could feel, they would mean much brush work later. His hair was long like his mother's had been and it was her memory that was keeping it that way by thunder. This was not the first time he had thought about shortening it...by two feet, but well he did like it when it was braided.

He sighed and squished conditioner onto his hand and began to work it through. The hot water felt lovely, loosening some of his tightly bound muscles. Sweat rolled down his forhead from the heat and he languished in it. It was good to relax and let all of his thoughts just melt in a clense into the water.


When he was done fighting with his wild mane he pinned it up and worked on the rest of himself, using scratchy soap to sluff off all the dead skin. When he was finished and rinsed he felt refreshed and pure. Like he hand't felt in a long, long time.

Once dry he let the thoughts creep back in. What was going to happen with the disapearances? What could he do to make the situation better besides fight with the others. Maybe give a home to a lonely child? People had looked after his brothers after all when they needed it. It seemed like he wasn't destined to find a lady so he might as well just do it.

These bug things seemed to take people who were alone, even though they had snatched people from the gatherings where there were more than one person so was anywhere really safe? And if no where was safe he should live life to its fullest before he too was snatched? Right now he had no one to protect and that felt viscerally wrong to him.

His brothers were all grown and doing their own thing, they were adults and could deal with the threat of the bug people as they saw fit. He knew he was not intelligent to figure out the problem on his own that was simply not his style. So he wouldn't try to change.

He draped out his hair and started the lengthy and laborious task of combing it. Practical men did NOT have hair this long darn it. His strengths lay in his strength. Perhaps it was best to find a place where no one would think to look for people, an abandoned island perhaps? But didn't that feel a bit too much like running? What would his mother have done? She would have just beared down and indured whatever came her way. Maybe he should take a leaf out of her book? Or maybe he should stop living in her shadow and do what he wanted for once?

Well he wanted to pound some creepy bug people but as there was none to be had at the moment he would just focus on dividing and conquoring his mane.

There was supposed to be a meeting of elders soon, but he had some doubts as to their effectiveness. Talk seemed to only take soldiers so far if talk solved wars they would call it a tea party. But then too it was impossible to fight an enemy who was not their especially when there was no much confusion as to what they actually wanted to begin with. He tried not to think about what they were doing to those people that were snatched. The ideas would keep him awake at night.

He took the blue ribbons and started to weave his hair back into a semblance of a tame beast. Perhaps the real secret was to keep calm here. Take what happened as it may come and prepare for the fight of his life. Did he really want to include someone else in that? Yes yes he did. However he would have to be prepared before he went further with that self discussion.

For now he looked forward to hearing what the leaders came up with, in as much as he thought he would not agree with it and to supper. He was pretty sure it was that baked fish he liked so much here coated in the nuts that tasted less like fish than any other fish he had ever had. A fresh outlook, a clean self and a full belly were all things to be celebrated. He must not forget the little things in life that made him happy. Doom and gloom was for other people not Isolder the Shifter.

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