[PRP] Spring Sunrise (Al Pine and Flannghaille)

[Geyser Eelborn]

Part of life was having little annual traditions. Al was convinced that there was not a person in the world who didn't have one or two. Some little things, some big ones, and some that seemed small, but meant so much to the heart. Take him and Flann for example—certain walks they took at least once a year, certain songs they sang together on certain days. And, once a year, when the sun rose on the first day of spring, they would get up early, in the early morning darkness, and walk to a meadow that faced the east. There they would stand together and watch the sun rise, welcoming in the new season of life.

Of course, they lived in the mountains, so it wasn’t always a still day they chose. Some days the moth-like mare and the feline stallion would have to delay their viewing due to a storm that had rolled in. Sometimes those storms dropped leg-lengths of snow, or blocked the sky with clouds. Last year the storms had been so severe that there had been a rockfall blocking off their access to the meadow. That winter had been the bane of peace, with storm after storm that dropped snow and ice in the mountains over and over again. The jumbled pile of rock, snow, and ruptured trees that had blocked off the meadow had taken weeks to remove the rocks from, and the process of cutting through the wood had taken nearly as long. No beavers lived this high up in the mountains, and in the end, Al had had to promise favors in exchange for a crew to come up to clear the obstruction. Had it been a self-centered use of talented creatures’ times? Perhaps. But it had been worth it to be able to access that meadow. It was not only a beautiful place to watch the sunrise, but a fantastic place to stargaze. It was also one of the best grazing spots in the mountain, and for a pair of herbivores, that meant a lot…

Al shook his head. He was day-dreaming again. He smiled and turned his head to look at the familiar and beloved face of his mate. Even after all this time he was still besotted with her. “Clear skies for this morning’s sunrise,” he murmured. And it was true—the sun was still not yet above the horizon, and the stars were still glinting in the heavens. But there was not a cloud to be seen in the pre-dawn chill.

[ Besotted | Pre-conceived | Ruptured | Still | Audience | Contribute | Day-dreaming | Bane | Cutting | Scalding | Familiar | Interpretation | Basket | Feline | Doggerel | Ricochet | Halcyon | Budding | Annual | Draconic ]

elfstar89

 

[elfstar89]

Flann had been awake for some time before her beloved mate, enjoying the still morning air wafting into the cave that they and her goat, Una, called home. Not awake before, Una, though; the goat loved the pre-dawn birdsong that began to return to the mountain pass where they lived around this time, and the birds seemed to not mind having an audience. Perhaps they enjoyed it.

The moth-marked mare smiled, glancing at the familiar, feline features of her mate. Then her mind wandered over to her attempts at weaving baskets, and she sighed heavily. They weren't doggerel, per se, and they probably wouldn't rupture with a wayward kick from a tiny hoof, but it was still frustrating at times to know that it had taken her all winter to complete only one basket. And she'd need one or two more, for the foals that they were expecting. Hopefully her clumsiness wouldn't matter in the long run, and they wouldn't be needed before summer, by which point, they'd be less urgently needed. But it could still be so hard to say.

She shook her head. Now wasn't the time for dark thoughts. The first sun of spring was rising, and the path and sky seemed equally clear for the little annual tradition that Flann and Al shared. Glancing up, the Usdia smiled hopefully. The first buds were sprouting on the tree branches. Another winter storm could still come with a payload of snow, but the budding had still begun. Spring was just around the corner. And with it, perhaps, might come a longer discussion about setting up a waystation of sorts for Soquili and other creatures traveling through the pass, whether by design or by accident.

She'd been day-dreaming of it since last year, at least, perhaps longer, though without much in the way of concrete plans. Which probably hadn't helped with the basketry, but the thoughts still filled her mind during the quieter moments. The waystation didn't need to be big, and probably wouldn't see much traffic in the winter, when snows were too deep this high up. In fact, a large waystation would interrupt the halcyon days that their little family enjoyed in their mountain pass. But something smaller and cozier, to warm the bones of travelers, grant them rest and relaxation...that was something she could still dream of. All assuming Al thought it sounded like a good idea. Which he might...but he also might not. At this juncture, Flann was honestly unsure.

But, here in this morning on the threshold of spring, she held to her hopes and dreams. And promised herself she'd do what she could to contribute to Al's hopes and dreams, too.

[ Besotted | Pre-conceived | Ruptured | Still | Audience | Contribute | Day-dreaming | Bane | Cutting | Scalding | Familiar | Interpretation | Basket | Feline | Doggerel | Ricochet | Halcyon | Budding | Annual | Draconic ]

Geyser Eelborn

 

[Geyser Eelborn]

Al noticed Flann’s sigh and he pressed his body against hers. He thought he knew what she was thinking about. “The baskets are fine, Flann,” he said gently. “I keep telling you. You’re your own most scalding critic.” He nuzzled her. “I tell you what, when we get back to the cave I’ll take a turn working on them. It’s long since time I contributed to the project.”

Sometimes he worried that he wasn’t doing enough for his mate. She meant so much to him—he wanted to do more to help her, to be a part of her dreams. It wasn’t that he left her alone to do everything, of course! He helped her whenever he could, and spent time with her! He just figured that there was probably more he could do to help, always. There’s always more ways to help someone. “You know,” he said, “since it’s a new year, a new spring—is there anything you want to do? Any plans for this year, or for the future? I’d like to help, whatever it is. You know I would. Whatever ideas you have budding in your mind, I want to be part of them. I know I keep ricocheting around these valleys during the days. Is there anything I can do to help you, though?”

Even as he spoke, his words made him cringe. They felt like so much doggerel, like empty promises. He felt vulnerable asking her about these things. He was worried that she was about to explain to him all the ways in which he was doing things wrong. But he had to ask her about her own thoughts. Otherwise he would be operating on pre-conceived notions of what she wanted out of life. “I have my duty as a warden, you see,” he said. “But that doesn’t take all of my time. And neither does mentoring new wardens. So I guess my question is…what do you want to do? And how can I help? I am your eager audience, my love.”


[ Besotted | Pre-conceived | Ruptured | Still | Audience | Contribute | Day-dreaming | Bane | Cutting | Scalding | Familiar | Interpretation | Basket | Feline | Doggerel | Ricochet | Halcyon | Budding | Annual | Draconic ]

elfstar89

 

[elfstar89]

Flann blinked her dark eyes in surprise, and inwardly winced. Maybe she had been operating on a pre-conceived notion of how Al would feel about her dream, as a ranger, but, given how besotted he was with her, and how fond she was of him, she really should have considered that he would be happy to listen to her and try to support her. His response, even if he wasn't enthusiastic, wouldn't be scalding or even cutting, but would instead be gentler in expressing his disinterest.

Flann took a slow deep breath, getting the ricocheting thoughts to slow and organize, so she could present her thoughts more clearly. "Ye ken how ev'ry sae often, we find lost travelers in the pass, and some are looking tae gae somewhere else, for various reasons? I was thinking o', perhaps, creating a sort o' waystation where travelers could rest and recuperate on their journeys. I ken there's a village o' Flutters living tae oor north, and they hae regular festivals that I've heard o' frae travelers through oor little pass, and I was thinking, this could be a guid stop less than a day's journey frae the village. It would be noisy and might bring some extra traffic tae oor little pass, but, if ye're willing, I'm interested in trying tae clear out some o' the cavern systems, sprucing them up a wee bit, maybe asking a wee bit o' trade guids tae support the waystation and oorselves, but naething they couldnae afford tae pay," she added quickly, awkwardly.

She hoped it wasn't too objectionable an idea. The Usdia knew that journeying through these mountains could be the bane of any adventurer or traveler, but having a place that one knew they could safely stop and spend the night at, maybe longer, if they were in trouble...it might make the mountains less of a roadblock for creatures of all sorts looking to travel from place to place, perhaps make the journeys a little safer, especially if they invested in tamping down a better trail through the pass. It wasn't entirely a selfish and materialistic dream, though it was partly built on Flann's desire to help people, and to share and learn stories.

"I think the minimum price we might ask would be a guid story," she added, finally. "I think we could do wi' guid stories, for the bairns we'll hae taegether."

[ Besotted | Pre-conceived | Ruptured | Still | Audience | Contribute | Day-dreaming | Bane | Cutting | Scalding | Familiar | Interpretation | Basket | Feline | Doggerel | Ricochet | Halcyon | Budding | Annual | Draconic ]

Geyser Eelborn

 

[Geyser Eelborn]

A wide smile grew on Al’s face and in his heart when he heard Flann’s proposal. “That’s an excellent idea, Flann! A waystation, or a hostel, somewhere a body can rest and recuperate before making the last push to the valley!” He leaned against Flann. “Let me know what I can do to help, I will do anything to help you on this. There’s a lot to being a ranger or a warden that’s up to interpretation, but helping travelers who get lost in your range isn’t one of them,” he explained. “And preventing travelers from getting lost is part of the job as well. I’ll take a look at the trails we have through my range, make sure they’re easy to see and easy to follow. Then, if there’s anything else I can do…well, let me know, please!”

There were plenty of trails in the area, and he usually tried to keep them clear and easy to see, but with increased hooftraffic through the area, they’d need to be better marked. In the past, the main reason he hadn’t kept them as well-maintained as he could have had been, well… “Do you think we’d get many Ulun’suti…?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual. He didn’t have a thing against Ulun’suti in general. Most of the draconic Soquili were quite alright. If he ever met an earth or a wood ‘Suti they’d have plenty to talk about, even a water or an air ‘Suti. It was the fire ones that bothered him. He had…too many bad memories of fire ‘Suti to ever be a hundred percent comfortable with them. They’re probably perfectly nice people in general. Probably lots of them are careful with their powers because they don’t want to hurt anyone. But one bad apple spoils the basket…

Al shook his head. “Any Soquili will be welcome in our home, so long as they are good people and not up to mischief. No bandits or murderers. I don’t want us getting a bad reputation with our neighbors. But we hardly ever get bad sorts around here anyway,” he said. “So I think we’ll be fine.” He smiled again and nuzzled her. “I see halcyon days for us ahead, my love.”

[ Besotted | Pre-conceived | Ruptured | Still | Audience | Contribute | Day-dreaming | Bane | Cutting | Scalding | Familiar | Interpretation | Basket | Feline | Doggerel | Ricochet | Halcyon | Budding | Annual | Draconic ]

elfstar89

 

[elfstar89]

"The Ulun'suti would be the draconic ones, yes? I think if we established a firm set o' rules for hospitality and terms o' service, I dinnae think we'll hae too many problems. No uncontrolled usage o' elemental magic, no bandits or murderers, all Shifters must present proof o' Charming upon arrival. Some Charmed Shifters may still be troublemakers, but I dinnae think we should permit the UnCharmed where they could do great harm," Flann replied thoughtfully. "Any arguments that oor rules are a matter for interpretations gets that person escorted frae the pass immediately, as that sort would be lookin' for the first opportunity to wreak havoc," she added firmly.

A smile spread across her face as the first rays of the first sun of spring began to peek above the rim of the pass. "I think we can mak' this work," she said softly as she leaned into her mate. "If ye can spruce up the trails, Una and I can spruce up the caverns. Any branches and bracken ye clear frae the trails, bring back home, and we'll use them tae mak' the caverns cozy for visitors. Any reasonably-sized stanes we clear, we'll gie tae you for the makin' o' trail markers." Her smile widened as the sun continued to slowly rise, bringing with it the promise of spring. "Thank ye, mo cridhe, and...happy spring, Al," she added, nuzzling him. They'd have a lot of work to do before summer, but now, they could do it together.

[ Besotted | Pre-conceived | Ruptured | Still | Audience | Contribute | Day-dreaming | Bane | Cutting | Scalding | Familiar | Interpretation | Basket | Feline | Doggerel | Ricochet | Halcyon | Budding | Annual | Draconic ]

Geyser Eelborn

I think we're pretty much done here!