Surviving and Eypharian's [Ifran]

[Ryce]

24th Day of Winter 511 AV Simple clothes covered the kelvic as he strolled through the city of Alvadas. More times than none he would prefer not wearing them at all, but recently the mundane comforts from inns had left him, in a sense, restless. As a ferret it was impossible for him to carry the small pack of items he had taken upon leaving his parent house. Some items he had learned of their uses but has never put any of them to use, except for eating the food he had stashed. Ryce was in search of a more feral environment not readily use to all of the offerings provided by the city and its people. He walked for what seemed like hours, the days wind whipped and bit at his exposed face leaving it a slight ruddy wind burn color and left it with a slight numbness. Upon actually seeing the large hedge maze, Ryce ran to it quickly, filled with excitement and joy. Having a true joy for the wild flora infested settings, and even more so with the thoughts of a nice meal to put an end to his rumbling stomach. Sniffing his way through the entrance, the kelvic started his partial search for such a meal. The archways above him filled with vines and over hanging tress as the sun peaked through in spotted areas. The wind was less bitter now with the hedges towering and surrounding him in many directions around him; it was much more comfortable without its annoyance. A tugging sound expelled from the other side of the hedge, curiosity over powered his hunger and he was overwhelmed with the need to find the source. Darting up to the end of the path he turned left, but the hedges didn't turn just to the other side. Slowing his pace, he continued forward still curious but not really knowing of a way to get the other spot of the hedge. As he turned the next corner a figure came into view, even from a distance along the path the figure seemingly would tower over Ryce. Most often threatened by such larger creatures he would approach and present a threat before the otherwise could take place, however the kelvic now found it more interesting that the man had six arms in total. Looking at his own and then returning his gaze forward, he starred in wonder. The man seemed to be shuffling through the hedges as if looking for something specific and attempting to reach it. Ryce not sure, but yet curious, crept towards the figure paying special attention in his own movements in attempt to not be heard as he did so.

[Ifran]

Ifran did not shuffle, but his feet were digging into the loamy soil of the path upon which he strode, his hands touching things, his eyes too attempting to find the trick of these illusions, to see through them, and to eventually weave them as an artisan at the loom. He was tall and powerfully built, his body trained to portray warriors on stage, but not so overly muscled that he could play nothing else. There was a sense of formidability about him that needed no illusion; he was confident and commanding. But just now he was also curious, and hell bent on getting the attention of Alvadas' patron deity. He had been here before, but this time he hoped would be even more elucidating. So far, though, it had not. He remained, for the time being, unaware of the ferret's spying.

[Ryce]

Mere moments went by and shortly Ryce surrendered his light-footed approach, now ready to confront the six armed man. Getting to a close enough distance the kelvic paused and thought slightly on his next few movements. Dropping his bag excitedly, what he did next would make sense if he was already known as a ferret. However, being in his human form he didn't really know or care how it would be perceived but according to him it was a formal greeting. Jumping as high as he could and slamming his feet on the ground he began. His next movements were more agile however still resembled him thrashing about. Jumping left to right and at times swinging his legs up in front of him to spin around landing on his hands and feet continuing with fluid motions of a somewhat elaborate dance. It was known as the Weasel War Dance, to those who knew it, used by excited ferrets as either an invitation to play, preparation for fight or even more simply actions of being excited. Ryce would continue the greeting until either engaged or exhaustion where his movements would slow, dizziness would set in and eventually involve a plop on the ground and hours of rest would follow.

[Ifran]

In certain parts of the world, Ifran was known as a dancer. Here in Alvadas, the sword-dancing of a Semhu performance was just called a swordsman, but call it what one would, he had never seen a man dance the dance of ferrets. Weasels. Whatever. He stared at the strange man, pausing in his exploration of the maze to watch. After a while, with no sign of him letting up, Ifran noticed that there was a certain amount of choreography involved, or at least a dance vocabulary being used. He cleared his throat. "Hello. That is an interesting dance you have there."

[Ryce]

Ryce's movement's came to a halt as his somewhat informal greeting served its purpose, in at the least getting the six armed man's attention. Having called his greeting a dance confused the kelvic, most often with others that truly understood it was an invitation for play or even fight however, little thought more went into the subject. Moving forward Ryce would complete his inspection of the man. Even with the dull color's his vision was limited to, the man’s skin still carried an elegant appearance. His nose worked quickly as he tentatively approached, first crouching low and moving all around the eypharian, Ryce sniffed in attempt to learn what he could about the man. He could smell simple travel scents and hints of the flora that as well surrounded them. Finally satisfied with the aroma, Ryce stood and shuffled the pack on his back. It was uncomfortable and he didn't enjoy having to carry it, at times he thought of being rid of the whole thing. If it wasn't for the stashed food it would be a much easier decision, never knowing if he would be able to catch his own next meal. Now standing a short distance in front of the man. "Not ever has Ryce seen a man with six arms. How did you gather them?" Ryce cocked his head as he further gazed in wonderment of his multiple arms.

[Ifran]

The strange man would have to educate Ifran about his people's customs, for they were certainly strange to him. His own study of the other garnered him a passel of quirks, but nothing definitive. So much that one could generally read was obfuscated here by illusion and artifice. The man could be mad, or a Kelvic, or any number of other things, and Ifran would just have to keep an open mind until he figured out which was which. "Ryce is your name?" he asked politely. "I am Ifran of the House of the North Winds, of Ahnatep, though recently I have taken up residence at the Crooked Playhouse here in the city of Ionu. The purest of my race, the Eypharians, are born with six arms, the legacy of our divine grandfather, the river god." He was not bothered by staring eyes; he had been trained to attract and hold attention, to be admired.

[Ryce]

Ryce paused in thought to Ifran’s response, the words, he could understand just as well as any, the meaning behind the majority of them however were lost in the wind. The fluidity of his statement showed obvious pride in whatever it was, unfortunately it meant little to the kelvic, having caught his name and the answer to his previous question the rest of it was as good as a foreign language. The rumbling of his stomach was now more than could be tolerated; the loud groans were deep, his body voicing its need for nourishment. Tipping forward the kelvic jerked his bag from his back and laid it on the ground in front of him. Small slender fingers clenched onto the fastenings, undoing them with dextral ease. As the bag opened the stench of death filled the immediate air, two already killed rats laid on the bottom. A freshly killed meal would have been preferred but due to curiosity besting the kelvic, his stashed rats would have to suffice. Ryce grabbed both and pulled them out, each with deep gouges ripped from their neck, throwing one in Ifran’s direction it's lifeless body gave a slight bounce and came to a halt in between his feet. "Ifran should eat; Ryce knows being hungry in the rain is upsetting." His words were filled with confidence in that fact of rain soon coming. As the wind blew, his sensitive nostrils picked out the scent of recently traveling through a heavy shower. With his statement made, Ryce remained crouched and widely bit into the rat’s backside, twisting and turning he pulled a decent chunk of meat away from the body. His mouth crudely worked the meat around as it shredded against his sharp teeth, blood trickled from the rat and Ryce continued in his meal.

[Ifran]

He did not blink, but his gaze followed the arc of the rat as it came to rest between his feet. Gingerly, he crouched to pick it up by its tail and then carried it back to Ryce, crouching again to set it before him in much the same gesture. His smile was appreciative and polite. "Thank you, Ryce, but I have just eaten. It should not be wasted. Please eat your fill. I will watch and be sure nobody takes your food away." Such things were important to animals, it was known, and one of the ways Kelvics were trained to trust a master in Ahnatep was by such a show of strength and magnanimity, one's actions saying: I am strong enough to protect you, and resourceful enough to keep your belly full. That spoke strongly to their animal nature.

[Ryce]

As Ifran declined the rat, Ryce thought of it very little, being too involved in devouring his own. Not necessarily picky, the kelvic still found it hard in avoiding the not so friendly parts of the rats body. The fact of trying was making the meal more aggravating then it should have been. As well as still eating, Ryce removed first his boots then pants and placed them in his bag, the chilled winds carelessly whipping against his bare skin sending a small shiver throughout his body. Now moving more quickly he stuffed his shirt in the bag as well and in an instant after the now ferret pawed and picked at the rats meat. Eating was an instant pleasure, now more able to get the desired pieces of tender thick meat, a deep rumble in his throat was expelled faintly similar to that of a cats purr.

[Ifran]

Nudity did not shock an Eypharian, and he observed the Kelvic's brief passage through it toward his other form with the eye of an aesthete. The violence of Ryce's eating was more palatable while he was in his furrier shape, and, left to his own devices, Ifran nudged the second rat closer so he could move from one to the next with ease and then knelt beside him to run his fingers over his fur. It made him wonder what had become of Nowa, the raven Kelvic that he had gone to such lengths to feed regularly. Kelvics, from his experience, were interested in food in the main. Nowa had been a bottomless pit, and he wondered if it was some trick of the magic that made them what they were that made them so hungry all the time.