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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 28, 2009 19:52:07 GMT -5
"Olmec's time of mourning is coming to an end." For a moment, Nostariel's brows furrowed in confusion, but returned to normal quickly. She could not tell what exactly was going on.. but she could assume another hawk must have died. The others' names were somewhat blurry in her mind, but she could remember Olmec. It was easy to remember such a hawk... "Perhaps that is how it should be for elves as well..." Nostariel simply nodded, feeling Doronlas' arms slip from around her, and she his, as Olmec flew low, wingtip running along the surface of the water.
Her eyes shifted to the other hawk, and piqued her curiousity. She noticed the female bird studying her, her movement slowing slightly. "Oh," she breathed, admiring the golden hue the hawk, strange blue eyes locked on the distant form.
Nostariel had seen hawks bearing some resemblance to this one, but their feathers had been filthy and unkempt. Their eyes at that time dull, though they must have had a fierceness in their eyes before being trapped in the stinking city of Battonia. This hawk was quite the opposite of those who were slaves to their masters.
"Is this one of Lady Rowena's flock?" Her question was quiet, as if she was too occupied with the creature to speak louder or look away. Amarth snorted, head lifting when he knew they were now not alone, tail lashing in annoyance. The silver equine trotted over to Nostariel, stopping only about a foot away, confsed brown eyes on the stranger bird.
Surely she would have remembered this hawk. All those of Lady Rowena's flock had been easy to remember, their fierce presence could not be easily forgotten. They were quite different from the usual hawks the elf had seen floating about in the sky and to their masters waiting on the ground of the elven realm. Even if she were not a part of Rowena's flock, she could have fit in just fine..
{Word Count: 325}
{Notes: *pants* I need to re-fix my muse.}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 28, 2009 20:09:36 GMT -5
Doronlas looked over at Olmec, brows furrowed as he locked gazes with his own hawk. He could see in Olmec's posture that the female was not dangerous though it was rare for any hawk to attack a female, no matter the species. Olmec having fine manners had little to do with that aspect of hawk life. This female though, seemed to make Olmec curious as well, the big hawk's eyes still on the female. Doronlas looked from Olmec to the mysterious female but the golden she-hawk wouldn't meet his eyes. Her gaze was intent upon Nostariel, as though the hawk were trying to convey a message.
"She may be one of Brenwin's brood, she is young enough" Doronlas said, still remaining close to Nostariel to fend off the lingering cold like a traveler around the embers of a dying fire.
Still, the appearance of the hawk was helping him to focus, whether that had been Rowena's intention or not. The she-hawk carried his sister's presence around her, like a lingering perfume scent but it was fading. The hawk had been searching for a while. Raising his arm, Doronlas whistled, like his summoning call for Olmec when the hawk flew separate from him and Dagnir. Across the river the golden female screeched back, unfurling her wings half way but not taking flight. Doronlas whistled again.
Quick as an arrow shot from a bow the golden hawk sprang from the branch she had perched on above the water. Like a ray of sunlight loose from its path, the she-hawk darted toward Doronlas and Nostariel. It took years of experience for Doronlas not to flinch from the fast approach. He kept his arm up and steady and within a heartbeat he felt the powerful talons close around his arm, not slashing but gripping for landing. Golden wings whirled around his head before settling against the sleek back of the hawk. Doronlas held his arm steady, wavering only slightly with the hawk's new weight on his limb. As he had expected, Doronlas saw on the she-hawk's right leg above the talon a scarlet ribbon. Yes, this was one of Rowena's, a daughter of Brenwin's brood and a fine she-hawk at that.
"Why are you here?" Doronlas murmured to the hawk, studying the golden eyes with the skill and intensity his family shared with the hawks they tamed.
The she-hawk let out a soft cry and shuffled her wings, turning her neat head toward Nostariel and crying out again. Doronlas followed the she-hawk's gaze and gave a weak smile, for the first time amused by his sister in months.
"She is a gift but claims she lost her way in the southern winds while searching for her receiver. Her name is Baranlinn, a gift of wellbeing from Lady Rowena to Lady Nostariel."
Doronlas' smile grew a little, again feeling amused and touched for the first time in months by his sister. Baranlinn meant 'golden chant' and he knew from her cries that Baranlinn lived up to her name with a fine voice.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 28, 2009 20:30:27 GMT -5
"She may be one of Brenwin's brood, she is young enough." The lef listened in silence, eyes remaining on the creature. Her body tensed for a moment at Doronlas' whistle. She had not expected it, but maybe she should have. Nostariel pressed her fingertips to the base of her neck, watching as the golden hawk flew to Doronlas, his steadiness with having the bird grab a hold of his arm not surprising in the least bit. She wondered if he had ever felt uneasy when a hawk flew towards him, or even just holding the bird on his arm.
"Why are you here?" Her thoughts again returned to the present at the sound of Doronlas' voice as he questioned the golden hawk. "She is a gift but claims she lost her way in the southern winds while searching for her receiver. Her name is Baranlinn, a gift of wellbeing from Lady Rowena to Lady Nostariel." A faint smile appeared on her lips, eyes moving from Doronlas to the hawk, very appropriately named Baranlinn.
At the name of his lady, Amarth snorted, shifting, but not taking a step closer to shield her from the bird. He saw no reason to do so, even though Baranlinn's steady gaze on his mistress made him uneasy. "She is quite.. stunning." Nostariel noted, smile widening slightly, only stretching her lips a bit more before fading, but attention still on Baranlinn. She would struggle to find an adjective that could sum up what little she knew of this she-hawk if she tried.
How many stunning hawks could Lady Rowena have trained and raised? It was, in fact, not very surprising since their family's history with the birds and what Rowena and her hawks had accomplished and would, most likely, continue doing for as long as Rowena still found joy in working with the stunning creatures.
Nostariel folded her cloak around here, mind still lingering on Doronlas' possible fading. She could not help but think how there was still a good chance, if whatever he needed to make it, left him.. left him to be alone again and wander until his time had come. She winced, walking closer to Doronlas and Baranlinn who perched on his arm. Her blue hued eyes studied every feature of the hawk, from her glorious feathers to fierce eyes. She smiled briefly, glancing at Olmec for a moment, attention moving back to Baranlinn, then Doronlas.
{Word Count: 399}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 30, 2009 17:32:20 GMT -5
Doronlas sensed more than saw Nostariel shift closer to him and in turn moved to accomidate her movement so he was facing her better, Baranlinn still perched on his outstretched left arm. His green eyes shifted from the elegant she-hawk to Nostariel, his eyes still weary and withdrawn but not as much as before. At least now he could feel the weight of the hawk on his arm though she felt heavier than he knew she actually was. Baranlinn's type of hawk weren't known to be enormous or exceedingly heavy. Olmec probably weighed more than she did but as of late even supporting Olmec had become a challenge for long periods of time. The darkness had been sapping his strength and just because Nostariel was with him didn't mean he would suddenly be strong again.
"The last hawk Rowena gifted to a fellow noble was perhaps seventy years ago or more" Doronlas said, letting a bit of amusement leak into his voice for the first time. "Once you know her, Baranlinn may become quite useful to you."
Doronlas knew Nostariel already took care of Aras and Amarth, but, hawks were highly valuable. Unlike the red panda, Baranlinn could fly into battle and carry messages. Amarth was a sturdy stallion, powerful and good for battle but when bearing Nostariel in battle, the stallion was limited. Once Baranlinn knew her enemies, Doronlas was sure the she-hawk would be like a third arm, slashing the eyes of enemies and their mounts with the speed of a fired arrow.
Of course, Nostariel would need to learn the ways of hawks. She would not master Baranlinn, that would be her first lesson. No hawk would be mastered. They would be partnered. They were still fierce birds no matter whom they followed. A hawk demanded respect and credit for their good works that could come in the form of a well prepared rabbit or simple affection. Nostariel would need to bond with Baranlinn if she would keep the bird and then learn to call her. So much but all things Doronlas had learned as an elfling training his first hawk hatchling.
"Will you keep her, or shall I have her fly back to Rowena?"
Baranlinn watched them both passively, her eyes sharp and keen. She was elegant like a court lady but deadly like a shield-maiden. Some said she-hawks were fiercer than their male counterparts though Doronlas had no real pickiness between genders. Male or female his hawks had never disappointed.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 30, 2009 18:09:52 GMT -5
"The last hawk Rowena gifted to a fellow noble was perhaps seventy years ago or more." The she-elf listened in silence, merely watching the hawk. "Once you know her, Baranlinn may become quite useful to you." Nostariel was honored that Rowena had even thought of her once, but to be the first in about seventy years was unthinkable. although she had no idea how to even care for a creature such as Baranlinn.
Caring for Amarth was simple. All he required was love and attention, and to be led to a lake or an area with grass. Or he could simply run about on his own and be perfectly fine. Aras, on the other hand, had to be cared for and have food gathered for him, even though sometimes he settled for things he had found on his own. Hawks could care for themselves if needed, right? After all, many lived in the wild just fine, killing smaller animals.
"Will you keep her, or shall I have her fly back to Rowena?" Nostariel looked to Doronlas, studying him before she even thought of an answer for the question. How long would it take for him to be happy again? She could not bear to see him anything worse than slightly unhappy. Her gaze moved to Baranlinn again, unsmiling. "I will keep her.." It would be horribly ungrateful to not accept the hawk into her life. Of course she would have to find someone to help her with... the things she needed to learn, but she would not ask Doronlas. Perhaps she could visit Rowena sometime. Only if Doronlas would come or- or if something happened.
Baranlinn might even bring good fortune. She could perhaps aid in a fight. Rowena's flock and Olmec had all been extremely helpful in the battle all those years ago. They were fierce and powerful, able to bring down the men and their horses. They deserved much praise and thanks. Nostariel sighed quietly, again gathering her cloak around her again. She had spoken too much, and now it seemed to her that she had nothing left further to say and should keep her tongue behind her teeth. Perhaps Doronlas would let Baranlinn fly and they could move somewhere else. Away from this place.. It now held an uncomfortable memory for Nostariel, and maybe even Doronlas as well.
Slowly, she turned her head to look at Dagnir and Olmec, then Amarth. Unable to see Aras, she looked back, face without much expression, only hints of familiar grief and weariness. The sun was quickly beginning to disappear behind the trees, their nearly bare branches having a hard time blocking it out. A small amount of warmth was allowed past, the pale cloak around her unable to hold much heat.
{Word Count: 457}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 30, 2009 18:30:27 GMT -5
Doronlas felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. He knew Nostariel wouldn't want to offend Rowena but he could also tell she was a bit intimidated by Baranlinn. Caring for a hawk, however, was similar to caring for other creatures if you minded their tender egos. There was no such thing as a mild mannered hawk, only a hawk that repaid good manners with good manners. If Olmec were mistreated, he would show his unhappiness in blood. Because he had been so heavily influenced by Rowena's unique abilities early in life, Olmec was also smarter than the average bird of prey which made him invaluable to Doronlas but he still had to be treated well. It was all things Nostariel would learn with time.
"Hold your arm out for her, let Baranlinn know you but do not fear her, respect her, be strong for her," Doronlas instructed softly, reaching out for Nostariel's arm.
With a light grip, he showed her how to hold her arm, away from her body with the elbow crooked. That would provide a landing for a hawk to grab on to without accidentally missing and causing some sort of injury. Feeling his own arm beginning to go numb, Doronlas jerked his left arm. In a whirl of golden feathers and the rattle of wings flapping, Baranlinn released her hold on Doronlas' arm and rose. The Cooper she-hawk circled around Doronlas and Nostariel twice, golden eyes now fixed on Nostariel's outstretched arm.
She sensed uncertainty in the elf and disapproved. The she-elf would need to learn to be a she-hawk. Baranlinn cried out as she wheeled around the elven pair. Her new mistress had much to learn about being a she-hawk, that was what Baranlinn decided. But, she would teach like a brood with her hatchlings learning to fly. Yes. Baranlinn would teach this elleth to be a she-hawk. Shrieking again, Baranlinn pulled her wings back, her legs reaching forward for Nostariel's arm to land.
As Baranlinn came in to land, Doronlas let his hand slip reluctantly from Nostariel's arm. The elleth before him needed to bond to his hawk without his influence. Stepping back to stand at Dagnir's flank, Doronlas watched with experience in his eyes though he was reluctant to draw back. It was necessary. Bonding was best done when a hawk was a hatchling but, since Baranlinn was a sub-adult already, perhaps getting her final adult feathers the coming spring, there was little other choice. Their bond would simply need to be strong.
(Nos can start rping her now since she has to bond with Baranlinn) |
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 30, 2009 19:16:19 GMT -5
"Hold your arm out for her, let Baranlinn know you but do not fear her, respect her, be strong for her." Nostariel grimaced mentally, and did as Doronlas instructed. She watched the hawk fly about, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. Doronlas made it look so easy, and she had hoped to prolong this sort of lesson. Maybe it would be better this way anyway.
Her eyes shifted to Doronlas uneasily as he let go, and she felt Baranlinn's weight on her arm, the limb moving in a downwards motion as it adjusted to the hawk's weight. The landed had startled her some, but she regained herself, her cloak moving around her legs freely now that her other hand stay at her side. She smiled slightly, moving her arm for Baranlinn's benefit. Her eyes shone with admiration for the creature as the hawk turned her head, letting out a soft cry.
The elf studied the hawk now that she had the advantage of closeness, a smile creeping across her lips. She had never felt the powerful grip of a bird of any kind on her arm, and she had never imagined she would. But now, Nostariel could feel the grace and strength of Baranlinn, and it brought a certain warmth to her heart.
Baranlinn cried out again, ruffling her feathers and shaking her head, keen eyes on the silver equine, but eventually returned to Nostariel. The elf met the hawk's eyes, studying them. She could see the fierceness smoldering there, and the intelligence. Nostariel looked back to Doronlas, smile widened. "Will she fly off on her own, or must I do something?" Her smile faltered before disappearing. Despite feeling how she did about having the magnificent bird perched on her arm, she felt also like a child. How foolish she must have sounded to him. So ignorant.
The she-elf's attention returned to Baranlinn, the hawk looking around at the other animals she had not bothered to ackowledge before. Baranlinn's smart gaze moved from each animal from the equines to the red panda to the other hawk. She cried out again, head turning back to Nostariel as if slightly irritated by the silver stallion's refusal to acknowledge her.
{Word Count: 362}
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Post by Doronlas on Apr 30, 2009 20:07:10 GMT -5
Another smile tugged at the corners of Doronlas' mouth as he watched Baranlinn take her offered perch on Nostariel's arm. There was no denying the she-hawk fit Nostariel well. Both were not small but were elegant and defined, refined as fine ladies of the court but deadly under their beauty. Baranlinn would make a fine companion and it lightened Doronlas' heart again to once more watch a hawk and its new partner. His bonding with Olmec had been some years ago but the hawk remained fierce and loyal, as brave as any foolhardy first-feather as hawks called them, the young sub-adults like Baranlinn.
Olmec cried out to answer Baranlinn, politely acknowledging one of his own. Though they differed in species, the hawks were still hawks and thus followed more or less the same mannerisms. Olmec shifted his brown-feathered bulk on his branch, knowing not to go perch on his master as he wished. If he did, without the proper hold the hawk was sure his master would be unable to hold his weight for the first time in many years.
Nostariel's question was an innocent one and one Doronlas had expected sooner or later. It was like teaching an elfling about hawking, the art of hunting with hawks. He had seen men use falcons but hawks were usually lesser choices but just as effective.
"She will fly on her own if she sees fit but to lift her off, simply do as I do."
Raising his arm, Doronlas whistled to Olmec. Olmec, slightly unwilling, took flight to his master's arm. Doronlas stood in front of Nostariel, Olmec perched on his crooked arm. He lowered his arm slightly and raised it. Olmec unlatched his talons and took flight, circling the river once before once more perching in the tree over Olmec and Amath.
"To call her back, whistle to her. A sharper whistle tells her there is danger and she must hurry, softer whistles will bring her at her own pace and she will be more relaxed when she approaches."
Doronlas gave a short, sharp whistle and Olmec's head snapped up. He looked around three times before glaring at Doronlas as if scolding him for the false alarm. Doronlas merely shrugged innocently and looked over at Nostariel, managing an encouraging smile.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on Apr 30, 2009 20:49:33 GMT -5
"She will fly on her own if she sees fit but to lift her off, simply do as I do." Despite feeling like a child, Nostariel listened intently, Baranlinn looking over to Olmec, head turning sharply away. "To call her back, whistle to her. A sharper whistle tells her there is danger and she must hurry, softer whistles will bring her at her own pace and she will be more relaxed when she approaches."
The she-elf watched Olmec perch on Doronlas' arm and as he took off, making sure she saw how Doronlas had had the hawk fly from his arm. She bit her lip, calmed by the smile on Doronlas' face. She lowered her arm and raised it back up, Baranlinn flying up into the air in a flurry of golden feathers. The hawk flew over the treetops, letting a loud cry sound. Nostariel was not that bad a student.
Watching the hawk for a moment longer, Nostariel whistled quietly, but still loud that the hawk would know she meant to call her. Baranlinn turned, soaring over same trees again and flew towards Nostariel's raised arm. Her eyes widened slightly as the hawk came towards her, but calmed herself, remembering the first time she had had the creature on her arm. The golden bird took to the perch, the arm lowering a bit from the impact.
A glorious smile bloomed on her face, a new brightness in her eyes fighting away more of the sadness. "It is not as hard as I imagined. Although I think it will take me a while before I can become as skilled as you and Lady Rowena." Baranlinn chortling and ruffling her feathers as if she were agreeing.
Nostariel knew it would be a while before she could calmly call Baranlinn and have her perch on her arm. Each time she saw the golden bird coming towards her she felt unease growing within her. Most of it was saved for the fear of harming Baranlinn and loosing any trust that could be gained with her. What was left was fear for disappointing Doronlas and making his unhappiness increase.
She would remember to show Lady Rowena her appreciation for such a kingly gift. Gaining the companionship of one of her hawks must have been one of the greatest desire of bird handlers in Aglar Arda. They probably deserved it more than Nostariel did. She knew not much about how to care for and handle the creatures correctly, but Doronlas could be of great help just as she could, hopefully, help him with his... unhappiness. His fading.
{Word Count: 428}
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Post by Doronlas on May 1, 2009 20:31:03 GMT -5
Doronlas seldom felt fright when a hawk flew toward him. If Olmec made a sudden landing on his shoulder or arm, it sometimes made him worry but seldom fear. Even wild hawks had stopped bothering him after over one hundred years of being among them. There were times in his earlier travels when Doronlas would actually share the cliffside den of a flock of hawks. They would shelter in the cave during the night with Doronlas sharing his catches and he would linger during the day in the caves. One cave had even had three nests in it, the flock perhaps having been under heavy elven unfluence in the past, had been highly social. The flock had left Doronlas to guard the nests while the mothers stretched their wings and hunted. Protect them he had, bow and arrow always ready to fire on invaders. It was one of his fonder memories while traveling.
"You must remember, Rowena and myself have been hawking and falconing since we were elflings," Doronlas reminded Nostariel gently, watching her with Baranlinn. They made a fine, stately pair. "It is also in our blood to understand hawks. To her hawks, Rowena is one of their own, Miki-kira, a wingless-mother they refer to her as. Olmec sees me as both his hatchling and his partner. My powers with hawks is weaker than Rowena's so, even if Olmec were to live one thousand years under my elven influence, it is unlikely I would bond to him beyond a partner."
With Nostariel, that would likely be the same case. Though Nostariel did not have Doronlas' family gift of hawking, she was inposstion of a hawk that Rowena had most likely specially taught to be given as a gift. Baranlinn would adapt to Nostariel and Nostariel would adapt to Baranlinn. Given enough time, they too would be partners, "hawk-sisters" as Rowena claimed the hawks referred to such a bonded pair of the same gender. If Doronlas bonded farther with Olmec, he would possibly be referred to as a "hawk-brother" but it was unlikely. Doronlas could connect only to one or two hawks at a time, unlike Rowena whom kept a flock at a time. With each generation the hawks became more attuned to her, more willing and intelligent because of her elven influence, her mind and presence constant from the time they leave the egg and even before then, in their parents.
"Hawks are close to their nestmates and protective of those they call nestmate. I am Olmec's nestmate and in time perhaps you will be Baranlinn's nestmate. They give us names though they do not call us by our actual names. Rowena says that Olmec calls me Shik-kar which means 'troublesome hatchling' in hawk-speak." Doronlas glanced over at Olmec whom was watching him keenly. "He would never refer to me as Doronlas. I do not know what Baranlinn will refer to you as but if you meet Rowena again, I'm sure she will tell you."
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on May 1, 2009 21:16:09 GMT -5
"You must remember, Rowena and myself have been hawking and falconing since we were elflings." Nodding, Nostariel felt Baranlinn fly off again, perching on a branch in the higher reaches of a tree. "It is also in our blood to understand hawks. To her hawks, Rowena is one of their own, Miki-kira, a wingless-mother they refer to her as. Olmec sees me as both his hatchling and his partner. My powers with hawks is weaker than Rowena's so, even if Olmec were to live one thousand years under my elven influence, it is unlikely I would bond to him beyond a partner." Again, she nodded, hands reaching to grab the edges of her cloak, and she pulled them around her.
Expecting immediate trust or obedience had been something Nostariel expected. She understood the nature of hawks somewhat from her travels and living in Aglar Arda with those who handled hawks, falcons, and other birds of prey. Although, they had not been as nearly as impressive as she had found Doronlas and Rowena to be. Not that they needed to be impressive, but they were none the less.
"Hawks are close to their nestmates and protective of those they call nestmate. I am Olmec's nestmate and in time perhaps you will be Baranlinn's nestmate. They give us names though they do not call us by our actual names. Rowena says that Olmec calls me Shik-kar which means 'troublesome hatchling' in hawk-speak." Nostariel felt a grin slide across the length of her lips, but slipped away just as quickly as it had come. "He would never refer to me as Doronlas. I do not know what Baranlinn will refer to you as but if you meet Rowena again, I'm sure she will tell you."
"Troublesome hatchling?" She grinned again, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Amarth snorted, ears twitching, tail, for once, not flicking at his sides. The stallion took a few steps back, snorting again. The elf turned her head to get a better look at the uneasy equine, brows pushed together in uncertainty. Was he throwing a fit because he felt he was being replaced? Or was he worried about something approaching? There were too many possibilites. Nostariel's eyes returned to Doronlas, no smile nor frown.
'but if you meet Rowena again'. "Did you plan on visiting Rowena again soon?" Pearly teeth were exposed by the lifting of her upper lip, and the teeth were brought down to her bottom lip, pushing down harshly in a habit of worry. She did want to see Rowena, but not if Doronlas was not going to go himself. Now that she knew what she did she could not leave him on his own. Not like she had before.
{Word Count: 455}
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Post by Doronlas on May 3, 2009 12:58:08 GMT -5
Amusement flickered in Doronlas' leaf-green eyes, glad to see Nostariel found his hawk-name at least somewhat humorous. He didn't know why Olmec referred to him as a hatchling but knew that Rowena found it quite funny anytime the big hawk hawk-spoke with her about his dangerous adventures and reckless wanderings. Doronlas often countered with the fact that it didn't take a lot for a hawk to refer to someone as "troublesome" or "bothersome." They were marginally serious birds, not often prone to mindless humor the way humans and elves were. Indeed, Olmec often found the feyfolk to be much more than bothersome when they tried to flutter around under his wings or sprinkle their magic dusts on his neat brown feathers. At least compared to them, Doronlas was preferred company to the feyfolk.
When Nostariel spoke of Rowena, Doronlas looked away as if in shame. Three years he had hidden in the shadowy greenery of Taure Menel without going to his sister. Because Baranlinn was here, Doronlas could tell that Rowena at least assumed he was still alive and relatively well. Baranlinn had probably been instructed to find him if she could not find Nostariel on her own. That meant Rowena assumed he was well and free. She was right. The fact Baranlinn would not return to Algar Arda without Nostariel would also assure Rowena's assumptions at his wellbeing. Still, he had broken his promise to visit her at least once a year. He had not broken it once but three years in a row. It was a wonder she bothered to concern herself with him.
Even with three years being the blink of an eye for an elf, he knew that Rowena felt his absence. They were not twins but their family had always been closely woven like a hawk's flock. When one was gone, the others were off kilter. After their mother had died and father faded, Doronlas and Rowena had been close but now...he feared she would not forgive him for forgetting her and instead turning to the gloom and darkness of shadows.
"I...I will go to Rowena when I can face the sun and feel its warmth again" Doronlas decided, raising his gaze to look at Nostariel. "For now...I don't know where I will go." He looked across the river at the towering red and orange flameless torches of Taure Menel. The autumn trees would loose their leaves within the next week and soon it would grow cold. In his current state, Doronlas felt the cold acutely and the sunlight absently. This winter would be a long one to weather. "I may flee to the south. I...believe I have had enough of the cold."
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on May 3, 2009 18:56:20 GMT -5
"I...I will go to Rowena when I can face the sun and feel its warmth again" She met his gaze, no readable expression present. "For now...I don't know where I will go." Nostariel ran her index finger along the soft flesh of her wrist's underside, looking to the ground now. Had Doronlas not done enough wandering? The she-elf felt he should at least find some purpose to his travels. He could become lost.. not physically, but emotionally as he already had began.
"I may flee to the south. I...believe I have had enough of the cold." Nostariel's gaze moved to Doronlas again, brows pushed together. "How far south?" Nostariel would follow him without his knowing.. If he wished to be alone, he would be. As far as his physical being could tell. First, she would need to visit Rowena, and give her news of her brother. Judging by Doronlas' reaction when she had spoken of Rowena, he had not seen her for a year at least. Any sibling would be worried if they had not gotten word of a relative that had been missing for a year or so.
In Aglar Arda she would need to find word of Beriadan. Three years away from him, and she had only sent letters to him, and none were returned. Worry had begun to gnaw at the she-elf. It was unlike him to not respond to her writings, and it was only now she had the clarity to realize. She had been such a fool, only caring for herself all those years. Thinking selfish thoughts and dreaming dreams that were not meant for her.
After she had reported to Rowena and properly thanked her, Nostariel could track Doronlas. Not like an animal or a stalker, but as a friend.. desperately trying to ensure his safety and wellbeing. She could remain far behind, and yet still be so close. It would be closer than she had been to him over the years, and she would be there if he needed help. Like a guardian angel, and then again, so unlike one. She would be a mere shadow again.. living a life of nothingness, wandering until someone wanted to find her. Or maybe he would want her to travel with him? No- no, she doubted that. It seemed clear to her by the way he was speaking now, he meant to go alone.
Nostariel bit her lip again, the wind picking up her long hair and blowing it straight ahead, as though telling her to move along. To leave. The she-elf sighed, pulling the strands back and tucking them behind her elegantly pointed ears, the strange blue hue of her eyes lightening a shade or two as she looked up at the sky. The world would soon feel empty again, and the sky would hold nothing for her. Nor the trees, waters, or her people's cities.
{Word Count: 479}
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Post by Doronlas on May 3, 2009 19:18:52 GMT -5
Doronlas did not really know if he intended to ride alone to the southern realms. Being without Nostariel would be painful, for both of them, he assumed. Still, he was lost in his mind still fighting the darkness. He knew that on some level he needed Nostariel. With her, he felt at least a flicker of warmth like a single candle's flame. With her, however, he couldn't help but feel like a caged hawk. She would always watch like a mother with her hatchling and this was not something he wanted witnesses to. It was shameful, how far he had let himself fall down his father's path.
When he had been younger and gone to his fading father, he had spent a night in his mother's company, hoping to soothe her sorrows. She had said that Birthil had been unwilling to let go of the darkness' promises and face it like an enemy. He had embraced it like a lover and forgotten himself. Doronlas, shamefully, felt his father's same weakness now for that numb abyss. To let go of the pain of broken promises and loneliness felt like a blessing that he wanted like a starving man after bread. During that time though, Doronlas' mother had shared with him the way she had seen fading elves save themselves if they had wished to. They had to face the darkness like an enemy, take away what it wanted. It wanted their longing for it. If they stopped longing for it, it would battle harder but it could be beaten. Roughly, Doronlas knew how to beat it. Or at least, he hoped this was how to do it. He longed for sensations, feelings, the adrenaline rush of battle and the power of a hawk's talons on his arm. Doronlas had surrendered that to the darkness, embracing the numbness like a fool. Now he had to figure out how to get it back.
"I don't know" Doronlas said at last, looking at Nostariel, a bit more fight in his eyes. "But...ask Rowena for Morab when you seek me out. He will find me."
Dagnir walked forward to his master and Doronlas reached up. Wrapping his hand in Dagnir's black mane, the elven archer swung himself up onto the stallion's back. Olmec launched himself into the air and took to the high winds, gaining altitude without looking back. A parting screech to Baranlinn thrown over his shoulder like an afterthought out of courtesy. Looking from his perch on Dagnir's back, Doronlas managed a wan smile.
"You will find me, anor nin and when you do, perhaps it will bring some solace to us both."
Doronlas' fingers brushed Nostariel's cheek before he nudged Dagnir's side with his heel. The bay snorted and took off like an arrow from a bow into the thick undergrowth, angled south but south was not Doronlas' destination. He would loop around and ride north to the mountains. There, he would find what he needed.
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Post by Arlenwa Nenharma on May 3, 2009 19:40:24 GMT -5
"I don't know." Nostariel merely stared, her cloak blowing gently around her body. "But...ask Rowena for Morab when you seek me out. He will find me." Nodding weakly, she gathered her cloak around herself again, eyes fixed on Doronlas.
"You will find me, anor nin and when you do, perhaps it will bring some solace to us both." Her gaze remained intently on Doronlas, as if only that would keep him from leaving, but she knew better. She could be patient. She had to. Feeling the tingle Doronlas' fingers had left on her cheek, she did not reach up to touch the spot. It seemed wrong to interrupt the feeling.
The wind from his leaving made her hair move from behind her ears, fluttering about her face. No tears came from the she-elf's eyes as she mounted Amarth, and whistled sharply to Baranlinn who had already gave a cry to Olmec. Nostariel did not need to give the stallion a command to run, he had already began galloping, the opposite direction, his silver pelt glimmering softly in what light was left. A golden she-hawk crying out in the empty skies above Nostariel.
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