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 Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2009 5:13 pm
 Hollysong the Storyteller was perched on a tall branch, keen eyes intensely watching the noisy scuffle between two rodents. His gaze drifted more than once to a small bush where the light colored head of a rabbit immerged, motionless, with its perked up ears rotated towards the small reckless creatures that seemed to be disturbing its peace.
Holly was hunting. And the rabbit, caught between curiosity and annoyance was unaware it was been targeted by the small sentinel. The Chestnut wouldn’t normally bother to hunt small prey but he’d never pass up the chance for some fresh rabbit meat. Though he wasn’t particularly hungry, it was always something nice to bring back to his mate. An owl landed on a close branch and immediately took flight as its eyes met the Storyteller’s displeased gaze. He expected the brainless bird to make some sort of sound that would scare off all the prey in the neighborhood (including that deliciously looking rabbit) but the smaller predator flew away as silently as it did quickly and Holly quietly exhaled his relief.
The golden gaze gladly returned to the pleasant hunt that was keeping his mind off the more serious matters that he had to deal with lately. His obedient Chirop lay hidden between the leaves of the branch, keeping his brightly dyed wings from the sight of any passing bird or mammal that could raise the alarm and obliterate his master’s chances for success.
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2009 6:03 pm
 Holly wasn’t the only one hunting. Sly had been spending the better part of his time hunting, exceeding what was normally demanded from the Matron. He decided that in light of unwelcomed visitors to his home, it was best to not be around and available for unwanted visitations and confrontations. He had gone unreasonably close to causing grave damage, and he knew that in relation to family, he had a short fuse. It also gave him plenty of time to work through his thoughts and also escape from them as he hunted. At least his overworking, more than he usually did, was only helping him in gaining a better reputation as a outstanding hunter. As usual, he was always looking forward to his goal of being a member of the Elite.
As he scouted the forest for movement, he noticed two mice fighting each other. It was warm, and that meant breeding, and that meant stupid prey. Deciding not to let an opportunity go by, he picked up speed and went down quickly, a slightly sound from his wings sounded that was noticed by the rodents, but not quickly enough. His body impacted the ground, and he felt one soft body in his talons. Turning his head, he watched the other rodent rush off and jump into a hole. Despite catching one, he was displeased that he hadn’t been quick enough.
Not one to stick around on the ground, he reached down and picked up the mouse in his beak and flew up to branch, before killing the mouse fully.
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Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2009 12:21 pm
Hollysong clucked with quiet annoyance as the rabbit’s head disappeared from view and his gaze followed the trail of movement the larger prey was leaving through the tall vegetation. Oh well…
His eyes travelled back to the place where the other sentinel had just landed. The light feeling of irritation quickly dissipated as the pale moonlight shone over the dark feathers of his company, revealing a surprising “glow”.
“Flut, follow me.” He said quietly before hooting a booming greeting as he dropped a few branches to meet the younger sentinel.
To be completely honest, there was something in the shadow’s glare that warned Holly he might not be completely welcomed but he was much too interested to care and relied perhaps a little too greatly on his age. He hoped to get at least a few words out of the shadow male.
“Good evening and good hunting, young friend.” The greeting never felt as appropriate.
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Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 12:33 pm
At the greeting, Sly puffed, greatly displeased in knowing anyone was around. For the past few days, he had been making it a point to keep himself away from whatever gossip might be going around, along with anyone who wanted to confront him on the matter of his conduct with the other Sentinels, both of which he felt no one had a right to talk to him about. This act of being unsocial also had the backlash of also effecting his tempter, where he had no one else to talk to that he felt could withstand his temper. He also didn’t want to start shouting at Rain, and kept her with a strict schedule while he was away, but never for long. Ever since Liam showed up in his territory, he was paranoid the Sentinel would return. In short, Sly was by himself to work out his aggression and displeasure at his ill luck while he hunted, and others showing up was not the best for them.
When he saw the other, he took notice of the dark browns and assumed it to be a Wildtype or maybe even a Deepwoods. Either, or, he had no recollection of exactly who this one Sentinel was, but glared all the same. It would be his only warning to the other that it would be is own fault for starting up a conversation with him, and he would not be held responsible for his sour mood.
At the greeting, Sly sleeked back his wings. “Evening.” He said, his tone polite but short. Sly moved the mouse in his talon, noticing the dyed Chirop. “Hunting?” He asked, hoping he would get the point it was a question. Since he saw no ridiculous dye or instruments, he could at least rule out bard or artisan, to his immense relief.
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Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 3:48 pm
Now that he was taking a closer look, Holly was certain the feather coloration was natural and not caused by dye of any kind. Still, he would like to inquire on it later just to be sure even if he felt he’d rather wait for a more opportune moment.
“I was, indeed. But it never works too well when two sentinels hunt in the same area unaware of each other’s presence, does it?” The Chestnut chuckles briefly not noticing – or perhaps just ignoring - the shadow’s foul mood. “Pay no importance to it. I was merely occupying my time in a productive manner that helps me organize my thoughts.”
The dark head tilts slowly to the side as the critic gaze narrows just a little as it drops to the shadow’s flight feathers.
“I was wondering… oh, but how rude of me! Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hollysong, the Storyteller.”
Flut, the small dark companion was immensely glad that the master’s new acquaintance seemed to lack will to speak since he would need to remember as much of the conversation as possible. He just stood there in silence, eyeing the branch beneath his tiny paws, happy to be ignored by both sentinels.
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Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2009 2:48 pm
As much as Sly disliked Bards, he wasn’t so adverse to Storytellers. Since they were specialists in their field and few in number, there was a level of pristine that they held, not to mention that they had dropped the more unnecessary task of a Bard, with it’s pointless entertainment and over-the-top dramatics, for a more respectable position to pass down the history of Noctua, as any Bard should. The fact they were more serious in their task, not to mention their ability to record history, was one he could even see himself not being against, though he never meet a Storyteller to be able to form an opinion. Seeing as this Sentinel seemed pure in race, without dye, and was very polite and serious in his nature, Sly could only see a Sentinel with some sense to him. It would be an honor, that even once in his lifetime, he did something worry enough that would fall into a Storyteller’s tales even for a moment.
Now with much more attention and a lot less foulness, Sly made a point to change his attitude and outlook and be more courteous to the Sentinel. “It is polite and makes good sense to alert someone else that they are in the area, and I thank you for it. In fact, I was doing just that when hunting, that is sorting my thoughts. I also greatly enjoy it.” Sly wanted nothing more than to put on a good appearance to the other.
“I’ve never had the pleasure to meet a Storyteller.” That is, Sly kept away from the Bards else he would find himself planning their disappearance. “My name is Sly. I’m a Hunter. If I may ask, you were wondering..what?”
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Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2009 7:00 pm
Oh, he was a rather polite young fellow. Holly took his first impression of the shadow as a hasty misconception.
“Ah, a Hunter. I should’ve known those were the swift moves of a provider. I assure you the pleasure is all mine. Interesting name… unusual to say the least.” Hollysong dips his head ever so slightly before deciding to cut to the chase. A hunter’s time should be spent… well, hunting and Holly would rather take as little time as possible from the execution of the noble task.
“You will have to pardon my curiosity, but I find your feather coloration rather… fascinating. You see, for many seasons I have studied the history of the Clan, the origins of types, types that no longer exist, stories of those who have rose above the masses and I ended up taking a particular interest in hereditability. You know, family trees, how traits and markings are passed from one generation to another, what we call pure families and so on. I don’t really mean to bore you with the details but I must say that I find that… “glow” your feathers possess… intriguing. I hope you can spare me just a bit of your precious time… I really don’t intend to get in the way of your quota fulfillment.”
Hollysong dips his head a little more noticeably this time as if to emphasize his words, keen eyes intently awaiting Sly’s reaction. The small chirop keeps his eyes on the branch but the tiny ears are shooting forward, aimed at the dark Shadow.
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 12:14 pm
It hadn’t come to him that his feathers would be remarkable in any way aside from how pristine he kept them. The glow, to him, had been something he had been found off and had seen as something that came from constant upkeep. As much as he had seen other Shadows, they came in so many variations that he was convinced it was genetics that was making their feathers duller and less translucent. To him, the factors of being a pure Shadow, one that was the deepest shade of black that had refused the abuses of dyeing even for temporary purposes, and pruning, had left him with the glow. To have it pointed out that it was unique and hereditary hadn’t come to him, simply because he didn’t put that much effort in thinking about it. Since it was something that was part of him, familiar, and something he saw every single day, thinking too much about why his feathers had their sheen was like asking why they were a darker shade of black or why his talons were sharp. They just were.
At the mention of family lines, he grew smaller. It had been a common policy for him to play the part of the Sentinel that was raised by Minders, which he very well had been, without memory of his parents, but ever since Rosemary had returned, he could no longer deny it. Not to mention that a Storyteller was a very prestigious Sentinel, and if Sly wanted to rise up in rank, he wanted to make as many connections to those in high ranks as he could. “I never thought it was peculiar.” He admitted, inspecting a wing before tucking it back to his side. “My parents were both pure Shadows, but my mother was the only one that has a similar sheen to her wings as I do, though with all the dye she placed upon herself, you could hardly see it. I never asked if anyone else in her family had a similar..uh… ‘glow’. I have not seen any other Sentinel that has had such a attribute, but I assumed it was just through constant preening that I managed to keep my wings this way.”
What worried him the most was that it was seen as peculiar, and furthermore, was it …a sign of being tainted in some way? That deeply concerned him, and he wondered if he should, against his dislike for them, see a Medic. “Is it - a bad thing?”
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 5:59 pm
“Ah, your mother…” Hollysong repeated slowly but little by little excitement seemed to creep up to his voice. “So it’s been passed down. I’ve never heard of dark feathers being preened until they could cast such a striking natural glow so I believe we can rule out an acquired trait at this point.”
Hollysong sensed the worry in Sly’s voice so he was quick to add:
“Oh, no no. I don’t think so, young friend. Worry not, please. It’s probably just a simple variation. Actually…” the Storyteller seemed to straining to remember something. “I believe I have seen something similar many seasons ago in a family of mists… yes, the impact was hardly as intense on their light feathers. And they didn’t seem to appreciate the interest of an inappropriate young Bard so I never really pursued the subject back then. I don’t think there’s any fault associated with this trait. Have you ever felt differently?”
He doesn’t mean to imply that Sly is somehow closely related to mists. On the contrary, from what he can tell, the shadow comes from a very pure line. Still, when things seem awfully obvious to him, the Storyteller has a tendency to leave them unsaid.
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 11:24 am
The topic was starting to make him feel that his glow might be something more and in turn, something to worry about. If a Storyteller was interested by the appearance of his wings, could it later down the road affect his career as a Combatant if ever a Elite looked his way? Was it just a simple passed down trait similar to variations in color or darkness to grey in Shadows, or was it something more along the lines as being a ….disease. The very thought struck chords in him he didn’t ever consider or liked to consider were associated with him. He’d need to find a Medic that could keep their mouth quite, and see if this was actually the case. If he was made aware that something was wrong with himself, and that was passed around, his name could be associated with the freaks such as Odd and Dodge.
“I haven’t noticed too many differences.” He said, and raised a wing. “Color, of course. Maybe a bit more sound than I would have liked if I am not careful to mind my flying maneuvers.” He gave the wing a few beats to demonstrate, wondering if the Storyteller would notice if it was louder or not, before pulling it back. “I have not considered any of this until now, taking all as rather natural. You said a family of mists, did you? Do you think that despite my pure bloodline, there could have been some…crossing?” The very thought that he wasn’t from a pure bloodline made his insides cold. Even worse was his other thought. “Do you think this is anything I should be concerned about? I know that there are a few diseased Sentinels in our area.”
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 5:51 pm
“Interesting. A different sound, you say?“ Holly did make an attempt to listen carefully but he couldn’t in all honesty make out the difference between Sly’s wings and the normal sound of flapping wings… well, perhaps there was a tiny difference but it was barely distinguishable, really. The Storyteller looked lost in thought for a moment but quickly interjected when Sly mentioned a possible crossing.
“Oh, I mislead you! I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.“ It is a rather grave offense from Holly’s part and he sounds most apologetic. “There’s no indication of that. From your size, color and feather density, everything indicates you come from a very pure family. Obviously, almost every family has a buried cross if you look far enough but in your case, we’d probably have to look many generations back to find one. I could look into that if you’re ever interested. “
Actually, even though Holly’s offer sounds like nothing more than gracious atonement for the previous insult, the fact is that the Storyteller would love to study Sly’s family line. Still, the union of Drywood and Willow is taking too much of his time at the moment so he will have to pursue the matter at a more appropriate time.
“I can barely tell the difference, perhaps it is something related to feather structure or layering. An experienced Featherstyler would probably be able to tell you more… in your case, it just looks like an aesthetic variation. Do you believe it hinders you? Did it ever threaten your quota fulfillment?” There’s a barely noticeable sudden intensity in Hollysong’s last question and it is one that that isn’t missed by his companion. The chirop lifts his eyes to glance at the Storyteller, turns to Sly and finally goes back to his deep appreciation of the bark under its tiny paws. But it’s clear the creature understands this is an important point to Hollysong.
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 12:54 pm
Sly didn’t know if he wanted to dig deep into his family history. If he let a storyteller know his past, he might relay it to others, and as far as he was concerned, his past was dead. He also could not see himself even approaching a Featherstyler. It was just a useless profession and every one of them seemed gaudy and unpleasant that being near one made his pristine, natural fathers stand on end. Still, he would not say this to Hollysong, wanting to maintain a air of being someone he could talk to in the future. He didn’t want to give this man the impression he had something wrong with him, nor did he want him looking into the past to find something that went against his image. For this reason, he would not look into his past, he would not find out if his fathers were faulty, and would maintain that he was perfect, as he had been.
“There is no need to trouble yourself. I am fine as I am now. As for the color of my wings, it has done nothing against my quota. In fact, I am proud to say I am one of the best at what I do and succeed in bringing in more of my quota to the Matron. This is why I never noticed that my feathers could have a variation that might be a hindrance or even worth noting. I hope that answers your questions.” As much as he liked that a higher official of such a rare profession was meeting him, he also unsettled Sly.
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2009 2:43 pm
Hollysong was aware his blunt curiosity sometimes bothered its targets but it was rather hard to just turn away from something quite so fascinating. Still, there was no need to force things tonight. A Hunter named Sly that worked in this particular area… it wouldn’t be too hard to find him again.
“I hope I’m not bothering you with all these questions, Sly. I tend to let my curiosity get in the way polite conversion. A professional handicap you might call it.” Honestly, the Storyteller looked anything but sorry and every so often his eyes slid towards the Hunter’s flight feathers with barely concealed interest. “I’m glad it doesn’t affect you. One of our best providers, mmm…? Such qualities should be passed to next generation. I don’t mean to be indiscrete but are you mated already?“
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2009 9:39 pm
Being on good behavior was already a trail for him, but being under this Sentinel’s eye unnerved him. The way the Storyteller was looking him up and down made him feel as if there was something important the Sentinel was not telling him. Something that could be wrong that was being withheld from him. What that was, he did not know, and while he wanted to find out, prolonging his time with the Sentinel might only be doing him more harm.
Hollysong was also very observant, probably why he was a Storyteller, and pointed out that he apologized for being curious to the point of being rude. Sly tried to sleek his feathers as best he could to disguise his worries. “That is fine. I am honored to be speaking with a Storyteller. I have yet to meet one.” An honor? It was more a trial, but he was determined to pull out any information and make a good impression at the same time.
If his nervousness wasn’t bad enough, the next topic threw him for a loop and he started to puff at such a question. “Ah – Oh no. Of course not! Not that I’ve been denied. I just haven’t looked. I’m – I’m far too busy for courting. I’m more of an asset as a hunter.” He said, taking a step back on his perk and going to preen his feathers down to keep himself busy.
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Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2009 6:27 pm
“Oh no, the honor is all mine.” Hollysong said gravely more out of habit than actual sincerity. Perhaps Sly was one of those “slow type” youngsters that cared for little but work. Usually a little push was all it took to generate just the right amount of interest. “So… uncommitted at the moment. Well, don’t take too long, young friend. A strong lad such as yourself should find an equally tough female and raise healthy chicks for the betterment of the Clan. It’s your responsibility as such an efficient member of Noctua for your skills and knowledge should be passed on to the next generation. And should you ever find any trouble encountering such a lady, do not hesitate to contact me. I’m sure I could help you locate a female of pure lineage without any history of illness or – Noctus forbid! – hybrid blood of some kind.”
The Storyteller was genuinely interested in the shadow Hunter. He moved a little closer on the branch, closely followed by his silent companion. He’s decided to ask a few questions around concerning this composed Hunter as soon as the Chestnut union is taken care off. It might still take some time but Hollysong is determined to find out more about this interesting fellow as soon as he gets a bit of free time on his talons.
“But of course, if you already have an eye on a lady and you wish to make sure she is… adequate, you should also feel free to call upon my services. More often than not, I’m asked to give my opinion on such matters.” The Storyteller looks slightly exasperated for a moment but quickly regains his pleasant expression. “As for work, do you wish to be a Hunter for the next few seasons or do you have your mind set on other ambitions? Are you interested on becoming, say, a Huntmaster? Or perhaps you wish to join our Elite forces?”
Even though he is aware he’s asking a rather large amount of questions, Hollysong has a feeling he might not be able to hold the Hunter for much longer. He feels it will be best to get the most interesting (usually the most personal) tidbits of information right now before he has to inquire around third parties - he will need to make sure Sly’s professed abilities are not just youthful boasting and of course, maybe find a little bit more about his family.
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