"Another Love Lost"

Log Date:
	10/11, 10/12/00

Log Cast:
	Faanshi, Prying-Eagle, FallingStar

Log Intro:
	Lyre, the Mongrel bard she loves, is dead -- and a devastated Faanshi
has been taken by her teacher FallingStar into full-time care at her
herb-shop in Bordertown. The older healer has been doing her best to keep
the younger occupied lest Faanshi fall into a morass of despair, and to at
least some extent FallingStar has been successful. The halfbreed girl _has_
been struggling to keep herself together enough to do simple tasks around
the shop. But neither of the healers, Sylvan or halfbreed, teacher or
student, could have foreseen one particular distraction powerful enough to
make Faanshi forget her own heartbreak: her friend Prying-Eagle, in search
of a lost love of his own...
	And who, for all that he is Sylvan and not Mongrel, bears a striking 
resemblance to the love Faanshi has lost.

*===========================< In Character Time >===========================* 
             Time of day:  Noon 
          Date on Aether:  Sunday, March 23, 3907. 
           Year on Earth:  1507 A.D. 
       Phase of the Moon:  First Quarter 
                  Season:  Early Spring 
                 Weather:  Breeze 
             Temperature:  Cool 
*==========================================================================*

A Moment in Thyme - Haven
     A multitude of smells mingle in the air of the small shop, combining from 
  plants hanging from the ceiling or sitting on the shelves, or concoctions 
  simmering over the hearth set into the side wall, or any of a number of 
  sources. The wall opposite the hearth appears to be a work area of some 
  sort, with a scarred table covered with tools, containers, and partially 
  finished projects. The back of the shop is where all the finished goods are 
  kept, it seems, judging from the full shelves - all organized with careful 
  precision, despite how full they are. In fact, the entire shop is kept 
  clean, the wooden floor well-scrubbed to an almost glossy shine. A set of 
  chimes hangs near the door, jangling softly whenever the door is opened.
Contents:
Prying-Eagle
Obvious exits:
Private Quarters <PQ>  Out <O>

Praise Ushas, the morning has been quiet. Truth be told, Faanshi isn't sure 
  she's up to handling any customers if they should come seeking her acarya's 
  aid -- or, Holy Mother forbid, need her to heal them. Naturally, in good 
  conscience she could not turn anyone away in need. But in the solitude of 
  the herb shop, with none but Kosha to keep her company, Faanshi cannot 
  decide whether she selfishly hopes that she is not asked to heal anyone -- 
  for she fears that if she were called upon to do so, she might collapse into 
  tears at any moment -- or whether she desperately wishes for FallingStar, 
  someone, anyone, to come and save her from her own unhappy thoughts. It's a 
  terribly fragile state to be in, and more than once the shudra girl catches 
  herself crying weakly over the various vials and bottles of herbs she has 
  been asked to label. More than once, she catches herself looking up at the 
  door in the hope that a certain rugged Mongrel bard will stride through it, 
  will take her up into his arms, and prove that the visions of which she has 
  been told were mistaken after all...
But it doesn't happen, and so Faanshi is left to cry, and chastise herself for 
  the crying. _Ushas, please, send FallingStar back soon, I do not want to be 
  alone, please send her back, please..._

A rugged young man does step in through the door however. His youthful 
  features would probably resemble this Mongrel bard, if he had been quite a 
  few youngers. Unaware of this, Prying-Eagle steps inside, his boots sloshing 
  slightly, before he tramps off the spring-muck where it's supposed to be, so 
  he won't bring it with him into the rest of the shop. In one of his hands, 
  he holds a rolled parchment. It seems to be very worn and used.. Yet not 
  old, as if it had simply been used to quite the extent. He looks around the 
  store several times, in hope for a certain face that he may recognize. 
  Faanshi hasn't been easy to find.

Well, all right, so the morning hasn't been _entirely_ quiet, granted. A 
  little Varati seeress has already shown up today, touching Faanshi's 
  battered heart by the simple fact that she cared enough to come and see her. 
  And as he'd done when Delilah had come by, Kosha leaps to his big feet and 
  starts barking the moment the young Sylvan enters the shop. It's Kosha's 
  greeting bark, rather than his warning bark, but then again all noise that 
  comes from Kosha is basically Loud -- so there's not much in the way of 
  difference.
Over the din, however, Faanshi turns from where she'd been just about to place 
  a small vial of powered lavender back onto one of the shelves. 
  Surreptitiously she dabs at her eyes, trying to rally her attention and her 
  thoughts. As much as it panics her, she must act on FallingStar's behalf 
  until her acarya returns. "Namaste'," she breathes out, her voice 
  hollow-sounding, tired. She does not look up... not, at least, until she 
  takes a few steps forward and sneaks a peek over her veil to get a better 
  idea of who she addresses.
Then she registers the tall, rangy figure. The disheveled brown hair. Pointed 
  ears and light green eyes are easily dismissable as irrelevant, for what 
  seizes the shudra's gaze is the resemblance to another set of features that 
  have been dominating her consciousness for months now and all the more in 
  the last week. She gets no farther than that initial greeting, for her eyes 
  roll back in her head, and quite unceremoniously, she collapses right upon 
  the floor.

That bark! Prying-Eagle does recognize that sound right away. He jumps back 
  slightly at first, as it is, after all, Loud. Then a small grin forms on his 
  features. It's very small indeed, as if any positive formation of muscles on 
  his face would hurt, if he performed it too long. The young Sylvan has been 
  through a rough time to say the least. "Faanshi?" He calls out softly, a bit 
  hesitantly, arching his neck a bit, as he tries to look past the shelves. 
  Then he sees the figure stepping forward, and walks towards her to greet 
  her. He parts his lips, as if he is about to say something, but is cut short 
  as he sees her collapsing right before his feet. By the Holy Earth Mother! 
  Pale green eyes blink down at the veiled, sari covered form for a long 
  moment, before he regains his wits. He kneels before her, to gently lift her 
  head to his lap, making sure she didn't hurt herself during the fall. 
  "Faanshi?", he whispers, looking down at her.

And, of course, the door opens at just the wrong time. Entrance heralded by 
  the soft ring of the chimes, FallingStar arrives in the shop...and pauses at 
  the door. Kosha she could hear outside, and she flicks a glance toward him, 
  but what catches her attention is the little tableau with Prying-Eagle and 
  Faanshi. One dark brow arches upward as she considers for a moment, then 
  clears her throat softly. How...interesting.

Kosha, to the say the least, is startled when his beloved mistress tumbles 
  over in a heap. The dog's yips and yurfs of happy greeting to Prying-Eagle 
  are quickly supplanted by a whine as he wheels about and scampers right over 
  to the crumpled shudra, looking worriedly first at Prying-Eagle and then at 
  the other Sylvan as FallingStar comes in in his wake. You! Hey, you! Come 
  over here and make Faanshi better, will you? Another plaintive whine rumbles 
  out of the furry throat, as the dog skitters over to the Sylvan healer and 
  practically knocks her down in his fervor.

Faanshi, in the meantime, is as easily lifted as a blanket; she doesn't stir 
  as Prying-Eagle lifts up her sari-swathed head. But she does make a little 
  whimpering noise somewhere behind her veil, as the back of her mind advises 
  her strongly that she really ought to open her eyes. Shouldn't she...?

"Faanshi.. Wake up! It's me. Prying-Eagle." The young Sylvan's voice is filled 
  with uncertainity, worry and concern. He gives Faanshi's shoulders a very 
  light, gentle shake. His hair, has grown somewhat long and untended since he 
  went out on the journey. Sarasvati promised to cut it.. but in order to do 
  that, he'd have to find her first. He looks over his shoulder in surprise as 
  he notices the new arrival, looking up.. "Do you? Uhm.. I .. She fell! 
  Fainted I think.. " Oh no, don't grin that sheepish grin now, Eagle.. Then 
  it will seem like a typical excuse! But that is of course exactly what he 
  does, completely against his will, at that.

She fell. Oh, so /that's/ what they're calling it these days. Of course, any 
  comments that FallingStar might make are pre-empted by having to deal with a 
  large, upset, hyperactive overgrown puppy. "Kosha...Kosha, sit. Sit, 
  just...I can't go over there to help her if you're...Kosha..." She backs up 
  a step or two, hands held out to try to keep the dog back and down.

If there's any word that Kosha recognizes in the midst of FallingStar's 
  fractured commands, it's 'sit'. With a little whimper of his own, the dog 
  relaxes onto the floor not far from the doorway, but it's obvious he doesn't 
  like the idea very much. Sad dark doggish eyes look up imploringly at 
  FallingStar. Who is, he hopes, going to make Faanshi better? Right? Or maybe 
  he wants her to give him some food. It's often hard to tell, with Kosha.
In the meantime, Faanshi's eyelids flutter between the edge of her scarlet 
  patterned sari and the blue veil that hides her face. She _does_ have to 
  open her eyes, her thoughts shriek at her, for she saw him at the door, it 
  was _him_, the right height, the right build, the right hair...
But then she can hear him speaking over her. And the voice is wrong. 
  Tremulously her lids finally flutter up, revealing a pair of green eyes 
  hollowed and shadowed from days of troubled sleep, and now dark with more 
  than a little bit of confusion. "L-Lyre?" she croaks, almost prayerfully, 
  but there's a despondent undertone to it nevertheless. Even as part of her 
  mind clings to what she thought she saw, the rest of it's beginning to point 
  out that, no, shudra, this is not the Mongrel bard.

A soft wince escapes Prying-Eagle's lips, as he can both sense, hear and see 
  the desperation and pain that comes from Faanshi. He has been through 
  similar things as he has wondered aimlessly throughout the city with a 
  drawing in his hand... He has seen women, ran up to them to touch their 
  shoulders, in hope of a certain face when they turn.. But it's always a 
  disappointment.. "No, it's Prying-Eagle.." His voice is softer and calmer 
  now. To help a friend will take his thoughts of his own misery for some 
  time. "You fell before my feet.. Are you alright?" Somehow he already knows 
  the answer, but the words are there, nevertheless. He looks up again over 
  his shoulder at FallingStar. "I mean it", he says, his voice a little bit 
  clear now, as he starts to regain his wits. "She fainted before my feet.. 
  I'm.. sorry. Chookma.. I'm Prying-Eagle.. "

Once assured that Kosha is not about to leap up on her, FallingStar moves 
  forward toward the pair. Now she's starting to be concerned again as she 
  looks toward her student. She left Faanshi here with something that she'd 
  hoped would keep her busy. Guess not. "Chookma," she replies, absently. 
  "Faanshi, are you all right?"

Just as abruptly as she'd keeled over, Faanshi regains her wits -- or at 
  least, at the moment, what passes for her wits -- in a rush. _Prying-Eagle._ 
  She starts quite palpably, both to find herself with her head in his lap and 
  to find Prying-Eagle _here_ in general. If Delilah's visit earlier today had 
  shocked her, this one leaves her thunderstruck. She hasn't seen this Sylvan 
  in... how long? At the moment, her brain refuses to count the days; indeed, 
  the maiden can do little more than peer back over a span of seemingly 
  endless weeks of brutal winter in Haven between her and the last time she 
  encountered this young wanderer. "P-Prying-Eagle," she blurts out, 
  "n-namaste'... I-I mean... chookma.... forgive me, I did not mean... you 
  looked like..." And, teary-eyed, she fumbles herself into sitting upright, 
  while her gaze shoots wildly to FallingStar.

"'Hello' would do just fine, Faanshi. " Prying-Eagle straightens himself, as 
  Faanshi finally sits up on her own, and his hands let go of her head. His 
  words are followed by a faint, somewhat sheepish, yet warm smile. The smile 
  slowly starts fading after a while though.. "What has happened to you?" His 
  voice is low, almost a whisper. "You look like as if you saw bad Spirits.. " 
  He came here in hope of getting her help, but realizes that she may be in a 
  far greater need than himself.. ".. Like Lyre? " He heard her mumbling the 
  name not long ago. He lowers his gaze, as he has no idea of who this Lyre is.

Uhoh. He said That Name. FallingStar would wince, but she's too busy doing the 
  concerned look thing as she crouches beside her student. "Faanshi's 
  been...under some strain. Are you all right, child?" she repeats, reaching 
  out to touch the younger woman's forehead. As though she had a fever or some 
  such, instead of just being, um, stressed. Whatever you call it. "Was there 
  something I could help you with?" she adds, without looking toward 
  Prying-Eagle as she addresses him.

Indeed, the utterance of that name brings a sharp sting of tears to Faanshi's 
  eyes, and for a few moments, it looks as if the girl's in danger of 
  dissolving into weeping -- much as she's been doing for days now while under 
  her teacher's watchful eye. And as if both aware of and embarrassed by this, 
  she tries to avert her gaze from FallingStar's keenly concerned one, only to 
  have to deal with Prying-Eagle's anxious stare as well. There is no heat in 
  her brow, to be sure, but as she realizes what she's done she turns so 
  bright red that the color in her cheeks creeps over the top of her veil. 
  "You... look like him," she informs Prying-Eagle then, her tone strangely 
  dazed, lost. "I never realized... i-it is strange, you a-are Sylvan... he 
  is... was..."

".. I.. well.. " Prying-Eagle runs his fingers through his hair, which is far 
  less in order than it used to be, before he went on the journey. "I hadn't 
  seen Faanshi in a long time.. I've been away on a long journey. " He, too is 
  looking at Faanshi.. What can he do to help? "I came to ask for help with 
  something, but I realize that I must have come at a bad time. Is there 
  anything I can do?" His green eyes are wide, as he looks at Faanshi, and her 
  reaction.. It brings both fears for her, and also brings up a whirlwind of 
  emotions for himself. How many women have he seen that 'could' be Sarasvati? 
  "I know what you mean", he says softly, and his features become somewhat 
  more tense with the growing pain. He knows. All too well. The parchment with 
  the drawing on it dropped from his hands when he helped Faanshi, and is now 
  lying on the floor between them.

"Here, first of all, let's find a more comfortable place to sit than the 
  floor, mm?" FallingStar, ever practical. She moves to help Faanshi to her 
  feet again, though with the intent of merely moving her to a stool, or a 
  chair, or even the cot. Wherever she'll sit. "We can talk about what brings 
  you here once we've done that. Otherwise what would people think of my 
  hospitality? Making guests sit on the floor."

If there is anything that Prying-Eagle and Faanshi have in common -- aside 
  from Sylvan blood, that is -- it is a tendency for the trials and pains of 
  others to seize their attention and distract them from their own hurts, 
  whether inner or outer. And these last few days in particular have left 
  Faanshi desperately craving distraction, any kind of distraction that can 
  give her something to think about besides, well, _That_. Even as she meekly 
  submits to FallingStar's suggestion and pulls herself stiffly up to her 
  feet, the shudra maiden peers uncertainly at the disheveled Sylvan wanderer, 
  then to FallingStar, and back and forth again. "Y-you look tired," she 
  blurts to Prying-Eagle then. "You said you needed help..."

Slowly, Prying-Eagle bends down and forward to pick up the rolled parchment. 
  Yes. He needs help, but how could he ask for help from a person who is in 
  bits of pieces.. someone who's sharing a fate similar to his own? "I do.. 
  but I don't want to burden you with it, Faanshi. You must be really tired. 
  He forgets about chairs and comfortable places to sit for now, and remains 
  standing once he's up on his feet. He brushes the parchment lightly with a 
  thumb, even as his gaze drifts between Faanshi and Fallingstar. He suddenly 
  feels rather awkard and out of place. Talk about bad timing!

Well, having something else to think about might be a good thing for her, 
  really. FallingStar frowns slightly as she glances toward his parchment. Now 
  she's getting interested, too. "You might as well ask," she observes. 
  "You've come all the way out here to do so, and I'd hate to think you needed 
  help and were turned away."

"I-I don't want to sleep!" This bursts out of Faanshi rather far too 
  vigorously, and with more than a little bit of what can only be fear lurking 
  under her otherwise soft tones. For a fraction of an instant, the shudra 
  maiden seems actively disoriented, stricken, until she catches herself and 
  focuses again on the others. She can't quite pull that off without her hands 
  wringing unconsciously at her breast... but at least, aye, Faanshi seems to 
  have been pulled out of the malaise through which FallingStar has had to try 
  to guide her. For now. "In Ushas' name," she breathes anxiously, "yes... I 
  beg of you... do tell us.. I-I-I have not seen you in so long, I... I did 
  not know if you were coming back..." Those last few words, though... they 
  trail off out of Faanshi, and her gaze turns a little strange again. 
  Something there, perhaps, connected with whatever strain the little Sylvan 
  who teaches her has mentioned.

Lowering his gaze for a moment, Prying-Eagle starts to unroll the parchment as 
  they speak to him. He never realized that anyone back here in the city would 
  miss his absense. Nobody ever misses him! Eventually, his lips curve slowly 
  upwards into a faint grin. Almost roguish by some standards, but too 
  hesitant and gentle to really reach that to the full extent right now. "I 
  always come back, Imphada Faanshi", he says softly. "But the journey took 
  longer than expected.. and my companion was lost.. " 
What companion? Slowly, he unrolls the parchment and holds it out for the two 
  to see. It's very worn around the edges, and by weather and wind. It doesn't 
  look old, but more as if it was made fairly recently, and then used every 
  day. It shows two drawings. The first shows the unveiled face of a Varati 
  woman. It is a face that would probably be considered pretty, with gentle 
  features, yet with a fierceness in her eyes. Her hair is tied into a single 
  braid that falls down her back. The second drawing shows a full body sketch 
  of the same woman, more from a distance, to show how she is dressed. Very 
  much like a dancer, and with some patterns on her hands. Anyone who has met 
  Sarasvati would know it was here. But yet, in some ways it's inaccurate 
  enough that it /could/ be mistaken for someone else, for persons that have 
  met others that could look like her.

FallingStar leans forward a little to peer at the scroll, freckle-dusted nose 
  wrinkling slightly. "What's that? Friend of yours was lost? How long ago was 
  it?" No, doesn't look familiar. But then all Varati look the same. Or 
  whatever.

The shudra maiden starts a little when Prying-Eagle addresses her as he does, 
  saying tinily, "I'm not--" But that's all the protest she's able to muster. 
  As the visitor to the shop unrolls the parchment he's brought and the images 
  of the woman upon it are revealed to two sets of feminine eyes, Faanshi is 
  given a new thing upon which to fasten her attention for the time being. For 
  a heartbeat or two there is no recognition in her eyes; then, what little is 
  visible of her expression seems to clear. "That... that is the one you asked 
  me to heal? At..." Where had it been? Dismayed at her evident inability to 
  remember the simplest things -- why has it been so difficult for her to 
  think, these last several days? -- Faanshi lowers her gaze awkwardly.

"She walked with me the whole journey.. Never asked me for anything in return. 
  " Prying-Eagle lowers his gaze, and holds the parchment softly between his 
  hands, as if he was afraid that it would crumble between his fingers any 
  moment now. "Only a day's journey from Haven, we were hit by a snow storm.. 
  It was thick, hard and relentless, and it forced us apart. A friend, 
  RagingSpirit, found me, and helped me to the city. If I hadn't used my 
  magic.. and bore myself a tunnel, I don't know what would have happened.. 
  But Sarasvati.. I don't know where she is. I need to find her. " There's a 
  tone of weary desperation in his voice. Faanshi may remember that box. He 
  never gave up on it. He's not someone to give up on anything, once his path 
  is clear before him. There's fondness and sadness in his eyes as he studies 
  the picture. "Yes. It's the one you healed. "

"And you think she made it to Haven apart from you?" FallingStar asks, voice 
  soft with obvious concern. For both her student and the young man here, too. 
  "Or do you not even know if she made it to the city?"

Peeking up again over her veil, catching the signs of desperation in 
  Prying-Eagle's voice and in his eyes, Faanshi swallows hard in a pang of 
  sympathy for him. No, it doesn't take much right now to make her eyes swim 
  with tears, and that is exactly what they do right now. She has to blink to 
  try to clear them, even as she stammers, "I-I have not seen her... at 
  least... I do not think I have..." She's been spending the last several 
  weeks desperately hunting Sylvans, after all. An entire batallion of 
  Agni-Haidar could have marched past her and gone unnoticed, almost, so 
  fixated had Faanshi been upon that task. And the ache in the young man's 
  green eyes is enough to prompt her to add mournfully, "I-I-I am sorry...!"

Prying-Eagle reaches down with his hands to gently put them on Faanshi's 
  shoulder, in a hope of trying to help her relax just a little bit.. Some of 
  his boyish aspects seem to have grown away during this trip. Not the roguish 
  ones, but the sheepish and uncertain side seems.. less apparent. His pale 
  green eyes are serious as he meets her gaze, despite the desperation that 
  he's barely aware of. "I will find her.. One way or the other.. If you would 
  see, or hear anything, please let me know? I will be found at the Gem Inn.. 
  " In her room. Where he every night lits one candle for each day she has 
  been missing. The amount of candles have grown quite a bit. Twenty eight 
  last night.. "She could be in Haven, that's where she would go.. But she 
  could be out there in the wilderness too.. I've searched both places... 
  Talked to the tribes.. ", he tells FallingStar. Then he opens his mouth 
  again as if to ask Faanshi something, but then hesitates. She is in enough 
  pain as it is.

FallingStar nods slightly as he answers her question, but as he hesitates her 
  gaze upon him sharpens. Once again fiercely protective of Faanshi, and 
  worried - if he says anything to upset her more...well.

That Faanshi is in pain is obvious, veil or no veil. Her voice is even more 
  uncertain than usual, her movements oddly disoriented and hesitant, as if 
  she has somehow lost all touch with the world around her and has yet to 
  re-establish her place within it. The eyes that lift a teary, timid gaze to 
  Prying-Eagle still show dark hollows round their corners, for all of 
  FallingStar's efforts to ensure her dreamless sleep. But still... the young 
  man's more mature air seems to help steady her, somehow. "The Gem Inn," she 
  dutifully repeats, her tone very small.

Prying-Eagle manages a very faint, yet warm smile for Faanshi, in an attempt 
  to be soothing.. To be her friend. And that he is. All the things she has 
  done for him, saved his life more than once.. "Faanshi. I know this may not 
  be easy for you.. But what has happened, that has torn you apart so? " 
  Perhaps he can help.. Perhaps helping someone else and not just drown in his 
  own desperation will make him clearer.

FallingStar winces visibly at the question, reaching out to touch Faanshi's 
  arm lightly, in case she doesn't take too well to it. It'd probably be 
  easier if the girl didn't have to think about the subject at all, but that's 
  not going to happen.

And, veil or no veil, it's painfully easy to see how Faanshi's face crumples 
  up behind the blue silk. The tears already lurking in her gaze well up with 
  augmented force, splashing down to soak her veil; it's endured similar 
  treatment for days now, and old tearstains not yet gently washed away mar 
  the delicate fabric. The halfbreed girl can be felt to tremble under 
  FallingStar's hand, though most of her attention seems to be more or less 
  upon Prying-Eagle and his question. "Lyre's -- he's..." Can she even get the 
  words out? She hasn't tried, not since she first sobbed out the story to her 
  teacher, but now the tall young healer somehow manages to find at least 
  enough of a scrap of strength to answer the question, no matter how much it 
  pains her. Profoundly bereft, in an even tinier voice than before, she 
  concludes, "L-Lyre's dead...!"

Dead? Her lover is dead? No wonder that she's in this state.. Prying-Eagle 
  lowers his gaze, and his hands tremble slightly on her shoulders, partly 
  from the sudden sympathy and other emotions that he feels for her, and the 
  sharp, stabbing worry, that Sarasvati may well have shared a similar fate... 
  It is far from easy and guaranteed to survive such a storm. He clamps his 
  eyes shut, trying to force his own tears away, to prevent them from coming. 
  But perhaps it is too strong? Here it's possible he will end up in the same 
  situation as Faanshi, and the grief of a friend who has come to mean so much 
  for him is simply too much to handle all at once. Fallingstar may very well 
  have to keep track of /two/ people lost in their pains. Yet, for 
  Prying-Eagle there is still hope. He has to stick to his hope.

[This scene was never finished, so the log ends here.]