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 Posted: Thu Dec 06, 2007 10:30 am
"The rain that pours,
The wind that blows,
Comes as it comes,
Goes as it goes.
But whose wings beat
To churn the sky?
And whose eyes flash?
And where, and why?
Whose is the voice
the hatchlings fear;
To which the whole Clan
bends an ear?
Past the Above,
Who is the one
Who brings the rain
and shuns the sun?
I will tell you,
I know his forms:
The Thunderbird--
the god of storms!
His beak could rend
The trees apart,
The sky's his home,
The world his heart.
And thunder roars
when e'er he speaks,
The whole world shakes
When e'er he shrieks.
And should he catch you
in his cage,
You'll bear the brunt
Of all his rage.
But when he calms,
and he retreats,
the sun returns.
The forest heats.
And in his wake,
New life is found--
Both in the trees
And on the ground.
Without his rage
No plants would grow,
No Mus or mouse,
No bat or crow.
No Sentinels,
No, not a thing--
No insect, mushroom,
Fool or King.
And so, my friends,
When next you hear
The Thunderbird,
Try not to fear.
Consider this,
When Noctua shakes:
He always brings
More than he takes."
Fjord was perched near the Meeting Place, enjoying the aftermath of the great storm. The forest still retained the moisture the rains had brung, the branches were wet and the smell of fresh rain was exquisit to the young bard. He found the old tale of the Thunder Bird perfect after such a storm.
The sentinel sang like a lark, his voice was soothing, but loud enough to be heard and it was common knowledge that Fjord the Muse loved to hear himself talk... Or sing, whichever he happened to be doing at the time.
He gripped his perch tightly and fluffed up as he continued to let the music move him. He looked quite content and relaxed.
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Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2007 4:55 am
Birch was trying to assess the damage to his favourite performing place. A few brances had fallen but the meeting place would probably look as good as new with some tidying up. He used his will to push away the thin branches that had been broken in the storm and tangled on his favourite perch.
There! All better, and with next to no effort.
When the sound of singing reached him he sat back and enjoyed it. Curiosity gripped him and he flew closer to see who was singing. It was Fjord the Muse one of Noctuas bards known for his voice. Birch made it a priority to know every bard by name and try to keep up with the latest songs and performances.
He perced near Fjord, and quietly selected one of his more special noisemakers. This one required some concentration to use, but what better to use than a Thunderbird for this occation? He held down the string with his foot and used his will to force the other end to spin around. The powerful sound when the wooden pendulum sliced the air was said to resemble the Thunderbird's voice. He tried to time his music to Fjords singing by spinning faster and slower.
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Posted: Wed Dec 12, 2007 7:00 am
The young Muse was slightly taken aback at the appearance of Birch. He knew well who this bard was and had often admired his skill with voice, words, and instruments alike.
His voice remained steady as he traced over the lyrics, the only display of surprise that he expressed was his raised eartufts.
Once he had sung th eending, heclacked his beak happily and glanced towards Birch. "Thankyou many much, sir. You are wonderfly skilled and your instrument did just the trick. It was perfect."
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Posted: Wed Dec 12, 2007 1:40 pm
Birch fluffed his feathers, looking very pleased at the compliments.
"It's an honour to create music with you," he said and bowed his head towards the other bard. Deciding that they had fulfilled the neccesary ammount of pleasantness Birch decided to get to the point.
"How would you like to work with me more in the future," he asked, "We're checking out if there's any interest to start a group of bards and entertain together."
He rolled up the string of the Thunderbird neatly and put it back in the bag as he talked.
"It was Char's idea," he explained, "and so far we're just two bards and one crafter. I think you'd be a great addition with your voice."
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Posted: Wed Dec 19, 2007 11:34 am
"A group of bards, you say?" Fjord's eartufts had settled, but perked again at Birch's proposal.
"Ole Charry is one for good ideas, I think it is a fine idea. I am most definately interested in joining this troupe." He watched as Birch wrapped up the Thunderbird and felt a sort of pride swell in his feathery chest. This was the sort of thing the young bard had been waiting for.
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