"Would you like to hear a story?"The voice seemed to come out of nowhere. Ila'Vamala had recently made a kill and had when the voice had come drifting across the mist she'd been more engaged in eating it then she really should have been. Who knows what might have snuck up behind her while she was distracted. Unbeknownst to her it was no small fortune that the stranger who had approached her during this moment of thoughtlessness was a friendly one.
She lifted her head, ears swiveling about as she licked her lips and searched for any further noise that would tell her from which direction this stranger was approaching.
Lorkan'Tak didn't make her wait long to find out.
"Excuse me, mam," his voice was both gentle and deep, "I am a wanderer, a merchant of the spoken word. It does look as if you have a bit more then you could finish on your own there. If you would be so inclined I would be delighted to recite an adventure for you while you dine in exchange for a turn at your kill once you're done?"
What on these green plains was going on? He did not seem aggressive though, the company would be nice, and really she wouldn't storing this meat for later meals. She was just passing through and the effort needed to drag it up a tree would far outweigh the benefit of keeping it for an extra couple of hours. If she didn't share it with this male the vultures would just get it anyhow.
"I suppose it would do no harm," she said as she cautiously returned to her meal.
"Would you prefer an adventure or a cautionary tale? Perhaps you're the sort to prefer a legend of the gods? Or a romance?"
Too many choices! Why did he think she really cared?
"What ever sort of story you fancy telling me, I suppose," she shrugged as she turned back to her meal as she waited for him to begin speaking.
He hated that sort of answer. More often then not it made him feel as though his audience didn't really care to hear his story at all and that feeling rarely translated to an enthusiastic and engaging story session. If his audience consisted of strangers it also required him to guess wildly at their story preference.
"Alright," he murmured, trying not to let her clue into his disappointment, "I do believe I have a story you would enjoy." It was an old one and she may have heard it before but that wouldn't be so bad. Sometimes all people wanted was a bit of familiarity.
One of her ears remained trained on him while the other swiveled about listening for any others who may be approaching. Sure it was unlikely but she'd learned her lesson the first time. No one else would sneak up on her today.
"Once upon a time~" it was a little cliche start but in his humble opinion all the best stories started off this way. "There was a great king who's influence was spread over vast lands. He was a leopard," that detail was not for his sake, but hers. He often made the protagonist of his stories the same race as his listener, "and while he was a wise ruler the greenery which fed the game they preyed upon was turning brown and growing scarce. He'd long ago tasked three of his most trusted subjects with the job of discovering the cause of this drought and returning the lands to their former glory. Not a simple task, certainly, and despite their best efforts they were met with little luck. The situation was growing desperate, however. The herds were moving on, searching for greener pastures. His advisers suggested finding a herbalist, one who worked with herbs, who's father before him worked with herbs, and his grandfather before him worked with herbs. They would know the ways of plants and would better understand how such a drought may be brought to an end.
"The king, trusting his advisers, sent out several scouts to track down a herbalist such as the one his advisers had described. He must have been as fortunate as he was wise as not even three nights had passed before a scout returned with their healer close upon his heels. Under the herbalist's guidance the three gardeners were able to return the lands to their green glory."
"Well how did they go and do that?" Ila interrupted, once again licking the blood off her muzzle.
"Story doesn't say," Lorkan said with a nod. "Not sure it's too important."
"Well how do you figure they did it?"
He blinked, he'd never put all too much thought into that particular detail, "Well..." if that's what she wanted it was his duty as an entertainer to oblige, "I have always figured that they enlisted the help of a god or two. Suppose there's a story about that but I'm afraid it's not one I know."
"Alright..." she nodded and fell silent so he could continue.
"So now this healer had gained himself some good reputation with the king, but he was not and would never be of royal blood. So when the princess announced her intentions to marry the herbalist's son the king would hear non of it. He knew of a fine young lion from a neighboring pride who was both strong, kind, and of noble heritage and it was to him he had intended to give his only and most favorite child too."
Ila had now stopped eating and stopped listening for other strangers in the area. While she had little to judge him against he was one of the best story tellers she'd ever been privileged enough to listen too. Far from being annoyed with him for begging she was feeling quite pleased that he'd stopped by. He was still speaking when his stomach grumbled. She frowned and got up to move away from the carcass.
"Won't be able to listen over your stomach growling like that," she muttered. "Help yourself and you can continue once you're done."
After insisting he wasn't one to interrupt his stories and apologizing for his unruly stomach he thanked her and went to tear at the corpse.
1050 words ~ Continued in [SRP] Simple morals (Lorkan'Tak & Ila'Vamala).
