"A Sharing in Song" Log Date: 7/31/01 Log Cast: Faanshi, Fireheart, ShadowEyes, MistedWing Log Intro: It is not precisely an easy rhythm into which Faanshi's days have fallen, but nevertheless she has managed to find one as she bides among the Apisachi tribe and waits for her next opportunity to speak with their oft-busy Sachem, WolfEyes. Her mind and heart are still reeling from the impact of her beloved Mehul's death and what she learned of him -- and so it has taken time for her to try to figure out how best to assert herself to the prickly forest-dwellers, and how to best arrange for not only herself but Salmalin as well to leave unhindered when they will. Moreover, a new complication has arisen: the arrival in the camp of another Varati, Vayu al-Sirat, who once was Foreign Minister for the Varati in Haven and who had been involved in the making of a treaty between the Children of Fire and the Children of Earth during the war that the Varati had fought with the Empyreans. Disgusted by Salmalin, Vayu has outright fought with the younger Varati, and only when Faanshi has amazed herself by daring to intervene in their fight has the newcomer seemed to see any potential in her for actually doing the job she has been given. Tonight, however, it seems to Faanshi that Vayu sees more within her than she does... though there are some things about the Apisachi people that she has yet to see, things which a young musician who cannot see at all can show her.... *===========================< In Character Time >==========================* Time of day: Night (Duskside) Date on Aether: Sunday, September 8, 3908. Year on Earth: 1508 A.D. Phase of the Moon: Waning Crescent Season: Late Summer Weather: Clear Skies Temperature: Hot *==========================================================================* Waterfall - Northern Forest(#1732RAh) A large foothill, rests here covered by the surrounding forest. Runoff from in the mountains trickles down a mountain stream and cascades off a small forty foot cliff. The waterfall ends in a serene pool, some twenty feet across. The waters of the pool appear cool, but almost see through they are so clean. From there the water drains out another stream and to the east. On the east side of the waterfall is an opening to a cave. To get past the streams and to the opening there is an ancient natural stone bridge leading across the stream straight to the ledge in front of the cave. Contents: Fireheart ShadowEyes Obvious exits: Hollow Tree West Cave Cave Southwest As if her status among the Apisachi were already not questionable enough, the arrival of Vayu Al-Sirat is enough to give Faanshi a massive headache. For the time being, she has managed to reach -- or at least, so she hopes -- something resembling an accord with the man. She has managed -- or so she hopes -- to win what will be helpful advice out of him as to how to speak about Salmalin and his freedom with the Sachem. Assuming that she can actually _find_ the Sachem, which has seemed to be a questionable prospect for days now. Most of the rest of the tribe, though... for all that she is in theory supposed to be Speaker to these people, this night, Faanshi's heart is heavy enough that she cannot bear the thought of facing hostile eyes again. She keeps to herself as Sylvans gather for their nightly meal, staying apart from even Salmalin, accompanied only by her faithful dog. But she is restless, and even after the clearing grows less occupied with the cessation of the night meal, she is out and about and has claimed a spot in shadow on the clearing's edge. There, she watches the waterfall across the way, while occupying her hands with the task of tuning the lyre she has brought with her from Haven. Trudging along the path from the forest clearing containing the circle of stones is Fireheart, trudging in an exaggerated manner as she speaks to the little girl perched on her hip and clinging to a braid of her hair. "... ... This is the way stone walkers tread, like the grumpy bear." She turns and winks at the young Sylvan male with her who treads lightly along as easily as if he were sighted, years of familiarity with paths and the noises Fireheart makes serving to giude. Though he cannot see her she winks at him and the tone of amusement is in her voice. "Or Inky, as you call him, your Incana Shadoweyes, when he claims to be reeling from hunger if I don't feed him enough." ShadowEyes laughs at Fireheart's comment. "I do not sound like that," comes the quietly whispered reply. Making a face at where the woman should be he taps his flute lightly against his shoulder in thought. "It seems impossible to make so much noise as a Stonewalker.. Even their very breath is noisy because they find it hard to walk." MistedWing slips through an entryway formed of stone and tree, leaving the west cave in favor of the outdoors. MistedWing has arrived. Shuffle, shuffle, tap. Shuffle, shuffle, tap. MistedWing slowly comes down the trail from the cave, assisted by HoppingToad. Eyes glance about, expecting Fireheart to be here already. Ah, and so it seems she is. The voices come to Faanshi, and she glances up from her place not far from the waterfall, attention caught by the word 'stonewalker'. And as she hears what the two adults say to the child, her heart turns to ash within her breast. What can she say to such a thing? Would they even listen, if she spoke up in defense of those who dwell within the city? Vayu has told her that the Apisachi respect strength and dedication, but tonight she is tired, so very tired. Her soul hurts, and she does not want to engage n yet another round of playing the See the Stupid Stonewalker game. And so she does not get up. She offers no greeting to the Sylvans. Instead, she daws her lyre more protectively to her reast, and her fingers begin to glide across the strings. Making tiny whispers of plaintive sound that speak of the state of her heart far more eloquently than words could do. Fireheart falls silent a moment as if her thoughts took a savage twist. She looks toward the child on her hip and comments. "We shall keep you here and see you learn the proper way to walk in the forest ...and do not visit your stonewalker father long enough to forget our ways, Silvie." She murmurs though she is close enough to others by now for her voice to carry. "Chookma" She increases the strength of her voice, disregarding the song being played, or perhaps trying to not let the sadness contained in the notes grow claws and dig into her. "There is gran, Silvie. It' is good to see her up again. Stone walkers could tease her that they hear her coming too, yes?" One hand extends back to lightly brush against ShadowEyes as if in mute request to not edge away. A tear shines in the corner of MistedWing's eye as she overhears the comments about Sylvie's father. Her memory may fade in and out, and her body may be weak, but she has not yet lost her hearing. "Chookma, young ones," she says softly, encompassing all. Including Faanshi, for although she is stonewalker she has tended the elder and eased her pains more than once. And she is a far more agreeable presence than the males. ShadowEyes reaches out as well toward Fireheart with a smile. He will not leave too quickly. But he does stop at the sound of the music, no matter how faint. He murmurs, "Chookma," quietly while he starts to move toward the sad sound. "And namaste..." he says toward the hidden Varati woman. His tone is even, if not friendly, toward her. In minor chords, the lyre makes its lament under Faanshi's fingers. It does not pause at the calls of 'chookma', not far away -- but it _does_ halt, in ever so slight startlement, at the utterance of 'namaste'. Her silk-covered head lifts and turns a stark-eyed stare upon the Sylvans who have come into view. She cannot tell if the elder she sees not far away has addressed her as well as the others -- but ShadowEyes' intention of addressing her is unmistakable. "Chookma," replies she to the young man, her gentle voice more stoic than those candences should be, but she will not let herself be impolite. "Namaste'." She offers nothing more, turning her bleak attention back to the instrument she cradles close. Once again her fingers commune with the strings, but softer now, perhaps as if she half-expects that even this desperately needed release for what is within her will provide another excuse to be chastised or mocked. Tonight, however, the shudra maiden is past caring. Fireheart bends over to set her daughter down, the red hair of the youngster proclaiming that it is unlikely any of the Sylvans currently residing with the tribe sired her or her older brother. Keeping an eye on her as she toddles along, Fireheart watches the veiled woman out the tail of her eye while approaching Misted Wing and greeting the elder with respect, placing her cheek against the wrinkled one as a daughter would her mother. She is silent for the moment while her thoughts and senses assess the older woman. MistedWing is well enough for her age and condition. Nothing more than the typical aches. MistedWing's free arm reaches to slip around FireHeart's waist. If she does not have her grandson, she at least has her granddaughter and great grandchildren. Even if LittleTree does avoid her. Hopping Toad pauses for the two women to greet each other. ShadowEyes cants his head slightly toward the direction of the Varati woman's voice. His ears twitch a little and then settle as he bends down, the music still clear to him. "Your playing is sad.." A sound that is familiar to both his ears and his heart. Frowning he seems determined not to let the woman be alone. ".. maybe you would like to play something for us? Something from your people?" The halfbreed's hands go still upon her strings, and again she glances up to ShadowEyes, not quite willing to believe what she is fairly certain she just heard. Her eyes again betray her inner heart, dark enough that it might almost be she who should wear the name by which the tribe calls this man, not he -- but the shadow on her gaze has nothing to do with whether those summer-green orbs can function, for they are fully whole. And for all that she is not about to admit it to any save the patient ears of the dog who lies at her feet, they have seen too much. Before this particular Sylvan, though, the testimony of her eyes will not betray her. Almost as telling might be the wary bemusement in her voice as she points out, "The songs I know... they are stonewalker." Her words are not bitter, not sarcastic... merely unutterably sad, and delivered with the exhausted pragmatism of one who has learned to point out that which is considered shameful about herself up front, to spare herself the sharper pain of shock or horror or disgust about it later. Fireheart gives a sniff and looks toward MistedWing. "Lir would be displeased. " She comments shortly as she finishes checking over Mistedwing and lets her arm rest round the elder with affection. "I was trapped in the city for longer than I like to remember. I ...had to do things ....before permitted to leave there. One was to learn to resist the temptation to attack traditional foes. Some of your kind taught me enough I could be free again. Once " She is not bragging but at least indicating she is not completely without some exposure to Varati. "I even attended a parage type procession and wedding at Atesh Gah though the food did..not agree with me. Too rich, too spicy." MistedWing continues her trek toward the fire. She is tired, and wishes to rest. Whether Fireheart continues to accompany her or not is up to her. Her mind drifts as she listens to words said. Whether she is truly understanding them or not remains to be seen. Hopping Toad settles the elder on a log before going off to tend his chores. ShadowEyes shakes his head and rises up, his flute tapping against his shoulder. "Of course they are stonewalker.. you are a stonewalker," he points out as if she were missing the obvious. If she continues to act like one she will be treated as one. "Perhaps when you are feeling better I will teach you a song from my people. It is a tale about a wolf and a hawk." He gives a small smile before he makes his way toward where he last heard Fireheart. "At least their food has taste. The winged-ones food is so bland..." His nose wrinkles at the thought, though his stomach growls at the thought of food. Does he never tire of eating? Fireheart's words were not for her, but nevertheless, Faanshi closes her eyes sharply against what she overhears. Did the woman mean what she suspects, that Lir would take offense that she knows no Sylvan songs? This isn't exactly a surprise to her -- after all, the man who taught her to play was a Mongrel, and so far as she has ever been able to tell, an affront to _everyone's_ gods by simply existing. But she says none of this. Instead, she coaxes another ethereal chord out of the lyre while peering after ShadowEyes, all the wariness of a fawn once bitten by wolves and now twice shy in her aspect and eyes... even if her voice is as neutral as she can make it. She can't exactly act as anything _but_ a stonewalker. No one has ever taught her to do otherwise, and the one man who showed the slightest bit of interest in doing so is now dead. But if this blind flute player's offer was in earnest... "I am... unlikely to be of better spirits for the foreseeable future, Imphadi." It is all the admission of her state she will allow herself. "But if you mean what you offer... I would willingly learn." Watching the elder settle into place, the Sylvan healer's expression stiffens, her typical reaction to hiding worry or hurt. She turns abruptly only to see her daughter is in no danger but approaching the dog laying before the visitor to the camp. Small sounds like 'wuf, wuf' come from the small mouth of the child. Fireheart approaches watchfully but does not interfer."Bland. Or spicy." She laughs shortly. "Better either of them than what the poor gladiators had to tolerate. Even the dock workers ate better than them." she then glances back at the woman with the lyre as if considering something then speaks. "If Shadoweyes says something, he means it." The blind Sylvan nods to what Fireheart says, laughing lightly as well. "I try not to waste words if I can help it... not anymore," ShadowEyes says to both women. Twirling the flute in his hand he shrugs. "If you wish to learn I will teach you. Music is music... there is good music and bad music, nothing more. Much like food." If he can eat it, it must be good. Hey! A CHILD! Kosha lifts up his head at the little one's approach, ears perking up in canine affability. His young mistress might be morose of spirit, but the dog is clearly in a far better mood. Toothy mouth opening in a doggish smile, he pants lightly and gives a few lazy wags of his proud tail at the 'wuf' noises from the little one. Faanshi, too, espies the child. And for just a moment her sorrowful demeanor cracks a little, gaze gentling perceptibly -- though she can't help but glance nervously towards Fireheart at this unexpected gesture of interest from the tiny girl. Then ShadowEyes recaptures her attention -- with his words, with his evident casual air, with the motions of the flute in his fingers. "I am... fond of hawks," she ventures then. "And wolves. At least..." She is honorbound to amend, "Hawk and wolf graisha. My first mistress was hawk graisha... and a wolf graisha calls me HiddenNose." Fireheart makes sure the dog and child deal well with each other before looking back at Shadoweyes. "There is still meat on the spit over the fire if you wish. I will have to leave you two to talk music and check on Little Tree. I...am concerned. With Misted Wing's mind wandering at times, he has grown afraid of her. " She speaks where the elder could not hear even if she were awake. ShadowEyes smiles brightly at Fireheart. Oh how well she knows him. Reaching out for the Sylvan woman he nods with some concern as well. "I hope it will not last," he says softly. To Faanshi he says, "HiddenNose? Because of the veil?" Kosha is an old hand at dealing with children, fortunately. He wags his tail more enthusiastically at the little Sylvan girl, though he is rather more languid than playful at the moment and merely rolls over hopefully onto his back in hopes of having his belly skitched, rather than exert himself to more vigorous action. That tail keeps wagging, though. As for Faanshi, even as she keeps half an eye on her overgrown puppy, she keeps the other upon the only Sylvan in this place thus far who's seemed inclined to share more than the briefest of words with her. "Yes," she murmurs, succintly, a trifle confusedly. Rather astute observation for a blind man, that, but belatedly she acknowledges that surely his tribesmates must have mentioned her veil to him. "I tell her my name is Faanshi, but I do not think she remembers." The little girl giggles and seems content to scratch the dog's belly for now. Every once in a while she makes the 'wuf' sound and bats at the wagging tail lightly. ShadowEyes wrinkles his nose slightly and nods, "HiddenNose is a much better name.. Faanshi is difficult to say.." He crouches now, the flute held between both hands. If not for the lack of motion and acknowledgement in his eyes one might think he were staring at the woman. "Now.. about the song.. I have not played.. a.. a.. li-ar?" He frowns slightly, not knowing if he has that right. it was so long ago since he last heard a stringed instrument. "But I can give you the melody." She has seen the look on the face of her own God-King, when BroadShoulders called her by a Sylvan name before Him. And she is not exactly certain that something that city Sylvans do would be at all interesting to a Sylvan of the forest. But regardless, without entirely knowing why, Faanshi ventures another small nugget of information: "There are Sylvans in the city... who call me DawnDove." Then as if she has abrupt second thoughts of offering something so personal about herself, she hits an experimental chord upon her instrument and stoically hauls her attention to the matter at hand. No, ShadowEyes is not exactly friendly... but this talk of music is a vast improvement over the reception she has received here so far. "Yes," she murmurs, "it is a lyre. I am not very skilled at playing more than simple things... but perhaps I can match your notes, Imphadi...!" There is no reply to what she says about the Sylvans in the city. ShadowEyes merely nods and then sits down before the woman. The flute is twisted around, his fingers touching the hawk carved upon it. Then when his fingers find their places he brings the instrument to his lips. A breath and then he starts to play. it is a quiet first note, soft, delicate. Wavering and then winding its way upward as if taking flight. Dotted notes change into something more staccato, sharper and precise. Not yet comfortable with this Sylvan's moods, Faanshi does her best to simply accept and learn from what he answers and does not answer from her. When he breathes the flute into life, however, it is more than enough to drive all other thoughts from her head. And for once, just for once, it eases some of the bleakness away from her eyes, to be given the gift of the flute's voice. While the dog and the child commune in their own fashion, Kosha licking the tiny fingers that investigate his fur, the halfbreed maid draws in a reverent breath at what she hears... and listens now with all of her attention, waiting to see what the song will do before she dares to try to echo it with her lyre. The song repeats itself briefly, but is subtly changed. There is a languid sound as it moves along and before long they are intertwined. Two melodies combining into one until they seem to play with one another. There is a crease between ShadowEyes' brow as he concentrates on this song. Deft fingers move across the float with ease. Near the end of the song they start to slow down until finally the song just ends abruptly, the last note disappearing into a ripple. Faanshi watches, as rapt as it is possible for her to be right now... and only when she is sure the song has died away does she say gravely, aware that her expression cannot be seen, "You play with great beauty... thank you." Her voice has changed, subtly, but distinctly. There is earnest admiration there, and for all that she still sounds disconsolate, perhaps for the time being she has let herself step a short distance away from her sorrow. The lyre strings whisper under her fingers as she adds shyly, "The upward glide... at the beginning. How did that go?" ShadowEyes repeats the first part of the song, slower this time so Faanshi can make out of the notes. When he is done a smile is on his lips. "This is the hawk Leyanalosa. It is said that she was once the daughter of two great warriors and wno one could catch her because she was too strong and too smart. Men would come from all around to become her mate, but she would only laugh at them." One at a time, Faanshi's fingers pluck out the initial notes upon her lyre strings -- once, twice, until she is reasonably certain of what she heard. Then a chord creeps in on her third attempt, adding body to the sound for all that at least for the moment, she plays more as if the song is about a different kind of bird all together. A dove, perhaps, rather than a hawk. "That is a longer Sylvan name than those I have heard before," she can be heard to murmur, "and different... and people tell me that my name is hard to utter...!" Humor? Hard to tell. Her voice is still absolutely somber... but perhaps, just perhaps, her tone has lightened just a touch. Though it does not go childlike, there is still nevertheless an echo there of a girl she might once have been, who took solace in stories. "What happened then...?" ShadowEyes nods at the sounds made by the lyre and then smiles. "It will get better with practice." At her mention of the name he laughs, "It is an old name.. few use it today. Those who wish use the name Laughing Whisper or Lonely Hawk.. depending on how they see her. I prefer her true name, though." Putting the flute back to his lips the blind Sylvan plays the second part, slower as well, defining each note as best he can without ruining the song. Again he stops, "This is Maliloh the wolf.. he is cunning and strong. He is the one who mated Leyanalosa, captured her and won her heart. Though they were so different they were very similar.. they were both strong, both so smart and both so alone. But while Leyanalosa was in the sky, Maliloh was on the ground never to meet if not for the help of Ferrin. Of course he did not mean for them to mate, but not all of Ferrin's tricks go as planned." This thought brings a grin to his features and he shakes his head. "Ferrin knew they were proud and so he told them about one another, of how they would say they were better or stronger. Of course each knew that they could win any challenge. So each day they would send a challenge through Ferrin.. though they knew him only as a friend. They would see who could run faster or climb higher, eat the most, stay up the latest, capture the biggest buck or defeat one another in combat. They were consumed, constantly seeking to out do one another, forgetting to sleep or to eat.. and now.. these great Sylvans were reduced to nothing. They were to weak to continue.." Ferrin. That's a name Faanshi knows as well, and though she doesn't exactly smile, it provides a modicum of relief to her overburdened heart to be able to make at least that tenuous connection with what little she knows of the Children of Earth... and the memories she can sense once again in the back of her mind of how she learned the names of some of the gods they follow. "Pricking their pride, lest it become too great," she murmurs, reluctant to stay more lest she disturb the pacing of the tale, reluctant as well to do more than lay down the barest breaths of sound along her strings as she begins to try to commit the melody line of the wolf to memory. "And then...?" "Then.. Maliloh came up with an idea.. Through all the fighting and the challenges he had come to realize that he did not wish to defeat Leyanalosa.." ShadowEyes answers. He plays the notes upon the flute, the challenge, the subtle change and then they are one. They dance together, moving apart and then together every so often. "As they lay there, unable to move he whispered to Leyanalosa that his next challenge was to see who could love the most." Picking up where he left off he finishes the song, abrupt ending and all. The lyre strings go still and silent -- and from she who holds the instrument, there is nothing but a sudden intake of breath, miniscule but sharp. Can she truly be surprised, she asks herself? Of course it would be a love story. Faanshi must admit that the ending is a fitting one, though she must all at once blink tears out of her vision. With an effort, she hauls in a breath and then releases it, trying to calm herself. Then she whispers, turning her head back towards the Sylvan, "Ferrin... did not reveal himself?" "That is another tale.. another song.. Ferrin of course was upset at his game ending.." ShadowEyes leaves it at that as he shrugs, his head tilting a little closer. His ears twitch as he listens, "You do not like the story" "I do," comes Faanshi's swift declaration, and for all that there is a certain unsteadiness to her voice, it still carries a ring of truth. Furtively she rubs a knuckle across her eyes, trying to clear away the wetness -- and then wondering bleakly why exactly she is trying to conceal a gesture in front of a man who cannot see it. "Truly. I--" Now what, exactly, does she _say_? Perhaps exactly _because_ the Sylvan is sightless, she looks straight at him with a little more bravery than she might risk before any other man, struggling to read his expression, disconcerted by the greyness of his eyes. And then she requests, her voice turning strangely wistful, strangely remote, "Only tell me that the Trickster does not kill them, Imphadi, and I shall be content. I could not bear the death of lovers right now, even in a song." ShadowEyes only sits there, his features blank for the most part. Even when there is something to be seen it is as if he does it only for the benefit of those with sight. When one has to learn about smiles, about everyday gestures they do not come so natural at times. "No.. Ferrin is cruel at times, but even he did not interfere with such love. They were sporting enough to put up with his tricks.. even giving him a surprise or two. Leyanalosa and Maliloh live on to this day.. their love showing true in the wolves and the hawks as they only mate once in their lifetimes." "Good," breathes the maiden then, and there is a weary relief in her gentle voice, from not only this assurance that the tale does not end in despair but also from the oddly soothing notion of the simple fact that she cannot be seen. She feels herself turn that notion over in her thoughts, making of it a fancy that it somehow makes her... safer, before she discards it again as the product of a mind and heart far too overburdened with grief and frustration. To distract herself, she tries a part of the melody line for Maliloh again upon her strings... then a portion for Leyanalosa. And as her hands find a chord that seems to bring the two portions of song together, she lets out the barest of sighs. "Thank you for teaching me this song, Imphadi. Are there words... or only the voice of the flute?" ShadowEyes only shifts his legs from beneath him, moving easily into a crouching position. He lets the flute rest upon his legs and clasps his hands together. "There are no words.. only the story and the song. There is a dance, but I.. was never able to learn it." Only the song brings the story to life for him and it seems to make the Sylvan perhaps regretful at his lack of sight. That has to make Faanshi stop and think for a moment, as she surreptitiously considers the young man before her. Slowly, but inexorably, it begins to occur to her to wonder how it must feel to live without sight. Would she offend, if she asked how his eyes ceased to do their intended purpose? Within her her magic lies quiescent, untroubled by any suggestion of pain within the flute player. No, she resolves then, she will not ask, not quite yet... for even this fragile accord she has won because of the shared interest of music is too much of a prize to risk losing again so soon. Instead she solemnly muses, "I will try it on the lyre, then... will you... mind, if I play it in the green growing places in the city, when I return?" ShadowEyes makes a face as though the thought were absurd. The song would not be appreciated or even understood. "It is not my song," he finally answers. "That you will play the song and share it.. that is enough. No one ever asks about the music. They think we are only savages who kill and run around without clothes." Standing now, he yawns and scratches at his chest. "There is much about Sylvans that Stonewalkers will never understand... and much they refuse to learn. Perhaps you will be able to teach them, HiddenNose. But first you must learn that it is not the tribe that makes a Sylvan or the trees that makes the forest." With that he turns to leave his feet carrying him across the camp toward the fire pit where meat is roasting. He is an abrupt one, isn't he? Faanshi feels no less weary as he moves away without farewell; if anything, the unpredicability of the young man's temperament has managed to tax her strength even as this overture of his of music has eased down her guard. But tonight, because of the state of her soul and that profound tiredness of carrying her own burdens, she is for once not inclined to let him walk off without a final word of her own. They'll respect strength and dedication, Vayu has told her. Perhaps then if she shows some, she will be a worthy conduit of the Voice of the Amir-al. "I will carry that lesson to the Children of Fire," she calls after him, "and offer in exchange the lesson that the Clan does not make a Varati... nor a single coal a hearthfire. Good night, Imphadi." [End log.]