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 Posted: Fri May 23, 2008 5:23 pm
 Ansel stopped near the edge of the river, dipping his chocolate muzzle into the water to take a deep draft. Summer was heating up, and while it wasn't precisely a balmy day by anyone's standards, nor was it the typical cool of France. At least, not by his memory of the place.
It had been over two years since they'd left their old him, he and Christien, and yet Ansel didn't feel as if he'd adjusted at all. Too often did the ways and wonders of this New World surprise him, even Huyana for all that he loved the annoyingly bizarre flutter. Had one told him years before that he would have ended up being attached to a fairy horse he would have assumed a mental disorder of some kind.
The stallion tossed his head when he came up and looked backward over his shoulder to the fields beyond. Through the rows of rising corn he could just make out Christien's own golden head bobbing as he battled stubborn weeds.
Though he was given as much free reign as the natives' "soquili" these days, the French stallion had issues with leaving his master's side for too long. It simply wasn't natural, in his mind, to be away from one's human; and certainly not to go running off into forests and jungles and what have you like some of the others had taken to. Instead of making any moves to leave, the untethered riding horse merely bent his head once more to 'examine' some clover growing by a rather large rock.
Further upstream, an odd hybrid elegantly picked his way among the bushes along the edge of the stream. Stopping at the edge to drink from the cool waters, he paused a moment to stare with green eyes so vibrant, they seemed almost to glow, at his own reflection in the water. Hart was troubled. Only a few days of traveling out of the deeper regions of the forest had brought him to this... far more open place. Yet, in the stories his elders had told him, it used to be that one could travel for weeks in every direction from the heart of the Deep Woods, and you would find only more cool, green shadows. It seemed the world had changed drastically outside his home since then.
Hart drank deeply from the stream, noting that it failed to match the taste and clarity of the streams from his home, and lifted his head to survey his surroundings. He froze, becoming completely still at the sight of a stranger further downstream. Who was this, then? Hart, while he had already interacted with one of the natives of this open region, was still shocked by their lack of antlers and proliferation of hair sprouting from their heads and tails.
Well, the first he had met had also had wings. This one didn't. Curiouser, and curiouser. It seemed that with every step he took, more questions popped up to plague Hart. Relaxing slightly, Hart looked back to the cool waters of the stream and considered his options. Make contact with the stranger and see if he could find answers, or hold completely still and hope the stranger would go away soon?
Hart snorted. There was only one option that befitted a Prince of the Forest. Stepping out calmly and with great poise, Hart approached the strange Soquili. A slight crunching noise behind him--hooves on leaves, Ansel would recognize it anywhere--alerted the horse to the presence of another. One dark ear twitched in acknowledgment of it, though the Stallion continued to graze on his clover. Soon the tender green morsels were gone, and Ansel stood straight again to turn his head and see whom had come up near him.
At first he didn't know what to make of the creature. It wasn't a... deer, precisely. The body make up was wrong--too bulky, too ... horse like. It was as if some enterprising young soul had gotten it into his head to take a doe rather than a mare. That or confused. Probably confused.
Ansel gave a slight snort of surprise, waring with disgust on this mix of nature, and continued to stare at the newcomer despite the rudeness of such an act. No greeting came forth, nor challenge, just that same unflinching stare.
Since the stranger seemed intent on finishing the patch of clover upon which he was grazing, Hart waited patiently, and took the time to make a better study of his surroundings. Not far from the stream, there was a field of, well, Hart wasn't sure. Tall, green plants that rippled like a disturbed pond whenever the wind blew on them. For some reason, they grew in unnaturally straight rows. The effect was rather hypnotic, and it was a few minutes before Hart noticed the other stranger among the plants.
He snorted in disbelief, his ears swiveling towards the figure. It didn't look anything like deer or Soquili! He continued to stare at the distant figure, who appeared to be pulling up plants among the others plants, unawares of the stare he was now receiving from the stranger Soquili.
"Christien," Ansel said to the unasked question. Somehow the... thing... seemed more surprised by the human that Ansel was by the deer-hybrid. Well, that wasn't terribly unreasonable when Ansel stopped to think about it. Looking as he did, and as Ansel had never heard of anything like this from the native-held horses, it was possible he'd never seen a human before. Possible, no matter how odd Ansel thought it.
"He's a human," The French stallion elaborated after a moment. "My human."
Eyes still riveted on the deer-thing, Ansel lowered his mouth once more to the tender grass. Could it even talk? Or rather, he, since it was obviously male.When the stranger Soquili spoke, Hart only swiveled one ear to listen to him, he was so engrossed by the strange creature. Still, he listened, and puzzled over the word 'Christien', until the Soquili chose to elaborate. At that, and the fact that the other Soquili showed no signs of alarm at the stranger creatures presence, Hart allowed himself to return his gaze to the stranger.
"Human." he repeated thoughtfully, refraining from saying it over again. Hart's voice was deep, soft, and lilting; flavored by the accent of the Deep Woods. "We have never seen one before."
Hart puzzled over the rest of the words, turning occasionally to watch the 'human', 'Christien', at his labors. So, this stranger owned Christien? Perhaps the odd plant also belonged to the stranger?
Hart recalled himself, and that he was being discourteous to the stranger by staring so long at his human, and not introducing himself. Stepping forward, Hart dipped his antlers in greeting to the stranger.
"We are Hart, Prince and emissary of the Deep Woods. We must apologize for not offering our greetings earlier. This land has many surprises."Ansel pricked an ear towards the stranger, one brow raising as he took in the... huh. Raising his head, the stallion gave Hart yet another long look, attempting to figure this one out.
It fashioned itself royalty. Well wasn't that amusing, especially as Ansel didn't think the concept truly reached the natives here. Oh, they had their tribal leaders, but he'd yet to see anything on the grandeur and level of the European aristocracy.
It'd be rude to point that out, however, and Ansel took some time in gaging his response. "I see..." He finally replied, slowly, and gave a few short nods as he further considered things. "These woods seem to be over run with their kind, albeit those of darker skin and hair than Christien. Their breeds seem to be quite dissimilar, though, in thought and appearance."
After another long look, the French soquili turned his gaze upon his boy as if to judge the accuracy of his own words. "I cannot say I expected to see something of so.. ah.. stag-like a nature, and so your apologies are unnecessary. As you introduce yourself, I might say that my human calls me Ansel. You may do so, if you wish."
Ugh. That was overly formal, he was sure of it, but social interaction had never been one of Ansel's strong points. Best to be overly formal than unintentionally rude.
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Posted: Fri May 23, 2008 7:05 pm
The stranger took quite some time in responding. Hart, while retaining a polite demeanor, noticed that there was something... off in the strangers attitude towards Hart. He could only presume that he had insulted the customs of this region in some manner. It was an uncomfortable thought, for Hart had no idea what he might have done, or any idea what was considered a suitable apology.
However, after a few moments, the stranger responded with an air that suggested thoughtfulness, rather than hostility. Mulling the tidbit of information over within his mind, Hart looked again towards the human, Christien, and then back to the stranger as he returned the introduction.
Hart was puzzled by Ansels choice of phrasing. Stag-like? His human called him Ansel? Did he not have a name for himself? Perhaps Hart had misunderstood the relationship between the two. If Christien had named Ansel, perhaps humans were considered to be the equals to Soquili? A curious notion. Hart made a mental note to treat any future humans he might meet with respect. But what about the former part, referring to Hart as stag-like? Yes, Hart shared the attributes of the stag, but that was only fitting for a Prince of the Forest! It was unsettling when it occurred to Hart that perhaps there had been no contact between his own people and the people of this open region. But it would explain Ansel's comment.
"It is good to meet you, Ansel. May the grass grow for you... and your human." Hart said, using a traditional blessing of the Deep Woods, and including Christien as an afterthought to his formal mental note. "We do not wish to seem too forward, but are we to understand that you haven't seen a Prince before?"
After a minute the reply came rather bluntly, "Not among horses, no. We don't have royalty--only humans do." Ansel did not use the native word for their kind, as he never would. He didn't approve of these horses stepping above their places; though he thought of himself as a partner of sorts with Christien, he did not deny the truth that he was Christien's property.
"And if you also mean to ask if I've seen something that looks as you do... the answer also is no. Though there are a great many oddities among horseflesh here."
"Royalty?" Hart repeated, confused. The word was foreign to him, and seemed quite out of context with the conversation. "We apologize, but we don't understand. What is royalty?"
Hart held his ears back. While before Ansel had seemed confused but thoughtful, there seemed to be a certain animosity to his tone now. Harts spirits sank at the thought that he had really insulted the Soquili this time. Chagrined, he nevertheless was puzzled by the word Ansel used to refer, Hart guessed, to Soquili. Horses?
It suddenly occurred to Hart that he and Ansel probably had more in common that they realized. From Ansel's earlier remarks on how his human differed from the humans in this region, and his use of incomprehensible words, Hart deduced that he was speaking to a fellow foreigner!
"Ansel, hrmm, please do not take insult, but you are not originally from this land?"
"No I am not," Ansel confirmed. He lowered his head once more to the grass, not really caring one way or the other about Hart. The stag-horse-thing hadn't made any move to attack, and Ansel eventually wrote him off as non-dangerous.
"Royalty is an institution among humans, certain titles assigned to their leaders so that they are easily identified. Prince is a title they use," He explained with a shrug. If the deer thing wanted to call himself a Prince, then that was his prerogative, but Ansel still thought it weird.
Well, that was certainly easy, and it seemed that it was not animosity that drove Ansels curt answers, but an apparent lack of interest. Baffling to Hart, but then again, Ansel was a foreigner, and entitled to his own beliefs.
"Well, Princes of the Forest do use the title. We admit ourself confused by how both Prince and human came to use the term, but to clarify ourself, we should say that when we use the term Prince, we refer to Soquili like ourself. The Princes of the Forest are, as you phrased it, stag-like Soquili. We apologize for the confusion."
Hart, having kept an eye on the human, Christien, for a while now, decided that for the moment, the human was engrossed in his own work, and likely to stay there. So, curious, Hart took a few steps towards the strange plants for a closer look. Besides, it seemed Ansel was interested in eating, so Hart felt it polite to allow him to do so. He hoped, though, that Ansel might be more inclined to conversation after his meal.
"Corn," Ansel named it when he caught the stag's interest. Hart, the stallion reminded himself. He himself remained eating. It wasn't easy to graze enough to sustain a thick boned horse like himself, much less one his size, and as grazing was his major form of diet... well. Not many things distracted him from it, at least not until winter when Christien would be much more liberal with their meager supply of grain.
"If that is how you refer to yourselves, then it is how you refer to yourselves," Ansel agreed amicably with a gesture equivalent to a human shrug. He raised his head once again to check Christien's where abouts. The blond was rather well engrossed in his work, and had yet to notice either of the pair.
That was just as well. Ansel didn't like the interested Christien showed in these strange horses and their equally odd ways. Perhaps it had been being the only horse in Christien's life for so long, but Ansel had found he'd grown jealous at the thought of sharing his boy with another. "I've never seen one like you, at least as of yet, though you might want to speak with someone much more used to this place and its ways. The Native's homes aren't terribly far of."
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Posted: Fri May 23, 2008 8:27 pm
"Sound advice." Hart agreed, turning his head away from cautiously sniffing at the 'corn' back to Ansel. "Does corn always grow in rows like this?"
His examination of the corn had led Hart to believe it was edible, and actually, a delicate bite to one of the green leaves of the plant had confirmed it. There was also a particularly delicious smell coming from the small bundles of leaves growing from the plant. Had Hart been alone, and the corn not in such neat rows, he may have tried it. However, Hart had noticed that Ansel did not eat any of the corn. There was also something unnerving about plants growing in such an odd formation that warned Hart away. So he refrained from any sampling beyond the singular leaf.
"We shall try to make contact with the 'Natives', but we do appreciate the information you have given us." Hart said, hooves barely making any noise as he moved back over toward Ansel. He smiled ruefully. "Would you mind pointing us in the right direction?"
"No.. though I've never seen it grow naturally, I merely assume." Ansel replied. "It grows that way because the humans make it so. They plant it from seeds and help it grow... i suppose the straight lines keep it in order." In truth he didn't actually know why they planted it in rows, he only guessed. It was an informed guess, he thought, but... well. there it was.
Lifting his head once more, Ansel gave a nod towards his impromptu company and took a few steps back towards the woods. "The natives.. hm.. I believe they keep their village in this direction."
Ansel tipped his head in a northwesterly direction, "near a lake forms off this river."
"Humans grow them?" Hart repeated, genuinely startled. He hadn't expected that for an answer! Apparently, these humans were far more capable creatures than he had first thought. But it definitely explained why Christien was so engrossed with the corn. It had smelled edible, after all. Hart supposed the human grew the corn, so they could eat it. But why go to the trouble of growing it like this? Did it not grow in the wild? Hart gave the problem a mental shake, and let it be for now. He'd asked many questions of his host, and he felt that anymore would be rude.
So, Hart followed Ansel over to the spot he indicated, and looked in the direction he pointed, sniffing the wind for anything out of the ordinary he could pinpoint as a goal. Very, very faint, but distinctive, came the smell of woodsmoke. Unsettled, Hart took a few steps back; the smell of fire was no friend to a Prince!
Anels raised a brow when the deer didn't head back towards the forest at that. He seemed.. startled by something. The French Stallion gave a few tests to the air, but came up with nothing particularly unnatural. Puzzled, he asked a rare question of the other Soquili, "What is it?"
Hart, quite alarmed, continued to back away, eyes watching the horizon now for signs of flickering flames. For some reason, Ansel remained exactly where he was! Was he nose-dead? Hart looked at him incredulously.
"It's smoke! There's fire in that direction!" he exclaimed agitatedly, ears alert and muscles tense, ready to flee.
Ansel had to remind himself that this was, essentially, a wild animal. Hart had never seen a human, much less been to human civilization. "Yes, its a fire. A tame one that the humans use to keep themselves warm."
Turning, he nodded in Christien's direction and waited for the deer to join him once again near the corn. "See? Look at them. They have no fur, or hardly any. They're just.. naked, weaponless little things that muck about in the ground for food. It gets cold at night and they can't keep themselves warmed sufficiently. Also, the feel the need to sear their food before they eat it."
After a pause, Ansel added with some light trepidation, "I'm not sure why, but they do."
At Ansel's explanation, Hart ceased to panic, but frowned nonetheless, obviously still uneasy with the thought of fire dancing away somewhere over there. He willingly followed Ansel, as that was in the opposite direction of the fire, but couldn't quite come to believe what he said about humans and fire, especially the part about searing their food. What good burnt foliage?
But, Hart reminded himself, Ansel had been living with this human for a long time apparently. If anyone was to know their habits, it was Ansel, not Hart. So, remembering his role as emissary, he forced himself to calm down, and consider the Ansel's words.
"So, the fire we smell from that direction, is the humans' fire?" he asked slowly, looking back in that direction, but a lot more calmly.
Ansel nodded, "There doesn't seem to be anything running from it, and it isn't strong enough to indicate otherwise." There was a pause, and then Ansel checked the sky, "And I don't see any smoke. Likely nothing more than their fires in the village."
Choosing to trust Ansel's words, Hart again headed back over in the direction of the smell of smoke. It was against his nature to head towards the smell, but apparently that direction was where he could expect to find more answers to his questions. Though, just from this session with Ansel, he should also expect more questions.
Still tense, but otherwise having made that smell his goal, he set his determination to it. Lifting his head, and setting his ears forward, Hart stomped the ground before him a single time, an oath. Hart then turned back to Ansel and bowed again.
"We must extend our most profound thanks to you, Ansel." he said, raising his head again. "You have been a gracious host to a stranger who has nothing to offer in return. If our paths should cross again, and if you should need our help, please don't hesitate to ask."
Ansel suppressed a chuckle at that, instead bowing his head just as formally. He wondered if he should say something in return, but at that moment his name was called by Christien. Ears pricking forward, the rather plain riding horse picked up a slight cantor as he made his way around the edge of the field to where Christien had come out and was calling for him.
He whickered, an affectionate sound, and lowered his head for Christien to scratch behind his ears, and let the boy lead him off with a hand on his neck, back towards their own village.
Hart, at the sound of Christiens' voice, started a little, bounding away in the direction of the village, and the cover of the bushes beside the stream. He looked back once to watch Ansel join Christien, and as the two exchanged signs of affection. Hart waited until they were safely out of ear and eye sight, then continued his journey, reluctantly following the smell of fire, and pondering over the strange creatures known as humans.
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