You're a What? (Ndale)

[Warden Thrice]

86th of Winter Maze. This place was a petching maze. He kicked a wall in frustration, then grunted as pain blossomed in his toe. He was on the side of a wide street filled with bustling bodies, coming to enjoy the day now that the ration on the markets had been lifted. No one even glanced at him as he passed, unless of course he stumbled into someone and would then receive a healthy round of curses. He had been walking for hours trying to find Marcel’s Magical Supplies, and had succeeded in becoming thoroughly lost. He didn’t even want to get there anymore; he just wanted to go home. He was in a small branch of the marketplace. He was thankfully far away from the fish market, a place that had mentally scarred him on his first visit, but everything still smelled of dead fish. Everything was loud and stinky and crowded, and he didn’t like it at all. This side of Zeltiva was much different from the Winter Ball, where everything glittered and swirled and even thieves were gilded in gossamer. This place was dirty, and most of the people that walked around didn’t have ten mizas to their name. He stopped as the noise suddenly increased. He remembered this feeling. Everything heightened, roaring and crushing in on him. He quickly ducked into an alleyway and made his way around a corner, doing his best to ignore the claustrophobia as his djed shifted. He placed one hand on the wall, allowing the cold to seep into him and cool the burning in his body. He slowly allowed his eyes to change. The steel gray spread over the whites of his eyes, becoming black and sprinkled with a thousand shards of blue that sparkled like the facets of a gem. This one piece of his body was allowed to relax, and his tension eased for a moment. He took five deep breaths, then set about to repairing it. He massaged his eye sockets and spread the color back into them, and the whites returned and black became gray and his eyes were human once more. “Goddammit,” he swore in Char, clicks and chirps rolling off his tongue gently despite his irritation.

[Ndale Soromund]

OOCI only just realized the only common languages they speak are Common and Konti so I don't think communication will be very smooth lol Even living on Mura she had never eaten or seen this much fish or people. The smell seemed to cling to the air and surround you, cloaking you in a fog that could make you gasp for air, in fact she had felt a distinct loathing for it upon arriving but she supposed one became accustomed to it. All the same she tended to avoid being in the fish market and favored scooting towards the other parts of the market. Brushing past the next person, she ignored the muttered grievances and continued on her way, she didn’t understand some people. If they didn’t want to be bumped into, why didn’t they get out of the way? Tilting her head up she scowled when a piece of hair poked her in the eye viciously, she really did hate the wind but thankfully Winter was coming to a close. Twirling her coin purse on one finger she looked around the market place, she had really wanted to go to the Treasures of the Sea, if only because she had finally learnt the majority of the Zelvitian streets. For a few hours each day she had taken to sit on the roofs and memorize the city or at least the areas she had wandered. It saved her the problems of having to stumble through conversation with people who couldn’t speak Kontinese, she didn’t really care for speaking Common but it seemed to be a universal language. Her smile slipped from her face though as her coin purse slipped smoothly from her fingers and sailed in a perfect arc. Straight into the back of a young man’s head. He picked it up and began shouting, stalking angrily towards Ndale who could only stare and mentally remind herself that laughing in his face might be considered rude. It did not work though and the giggles flew from her lips until it reached full blown laughter, the man snarling in disgust and flinging the purse back at her before stalking away. When she managed to compose herself she reached down to gather her belongings, she was lucky he had not stolen her purse in retaliation. Which have been a very bad thing, she briefly wondered if she should go apologize, she had been told it was what people do after ‘accidental’ things. But she really wasn’t sorry. Her musings were interrupted though as a soft sound reached her ears and her head swung to the side. What was that? Apologizing forgotten she darted in the general direction of the noise into a nearby alley and nearly running smack into the man standing there. “What language is that?” Her demand came out swift and without introduction, she had never heard anything like it before!

[Warden Thrice]

Two seconds of footsteps were all the warning he got before almost being run into. He flinched, then relaxed when he realized that he didn’t have to get out of the way of someone. She was stunning. In shape, she might not have been particularly special, as many of the poor had her light build, but she was nevertheless startling to lay eyes upon. She was very pale, her skin almost exactly the same shade as Eorar’s. Her cropped hair was a shocking white, contrasting with eyes that he could easily compare to rubies. Despite their color, they were not sinister in the least. They were… open. Yes, that was it. They were like clear windows into what she was feeling, without anything to shield them. They reminded him much of the eyes of a child, bearing naïve innocence. And her question did so even more. Eorar did not answer immediately, taking his time to examine her face and see if there was anything odd. He saw no alternate agenda, no conniving, just pure and true curiosity. He crossed his arms and surveyed her a second time, nodding slightly to let her know that he had heard her question, and was thinking of how to reply. Unable to think of a way to weasel out of the truth, his answer was just as blunt as her question. “It is Char,” he answered honestly. “What are you?” Her odd coloring strongly suggested that she wasn’t human, and he had curiosities of his own.

[Ndale Soromund]

He was staring at her. And she was pretty sure it was the way she phrased the question. She blinked thoughtfully and sorted through her mental list of ‘do’s and don’ts in public’. Oh. Walking up to strangers was a don’t. So was asking unnecessary questions but it hadn’t really been unnecessary…she needed to know. When he crossed his arms she felt a slight warning go off in her head and her attention snapped back to him, it was the same feeling she got when cornered by larger animals (namely cats) during her travels but at his words her body released all its sudden tension. If he had smacked her he wouldn’t be the first one, Zelvitian’s tended to like their personal space and quiet. She had honestly expected the man from earlier to attempt something as well but she had been laughing to pay it much heed. “It is Char,” Her musings derailed immediately, soaking in the new information. Char? It sounded vaguely familiar. It had to be one of the languages from the more aquatic species mentioned to her when sailing, seeing as those were the only ones she knew. She squinted at the man slightly, as if looking for lies in his words before pelting him with another question, her words slamming into his. “What is Char?” “What are you?” It took a few second for his words to process, her brain already waiting for his response but when it did she did not hesitate to answer. “A peahen. Would you like to see?” Without waiting for an answer Ndale began to take off her jacket, tossing it the floor and reaching for the bottom of her shirt. She paused mid tug though, “Are you offended by nudity?” She had no desire to get in trouble with that again. Honestly, everyone had continuously asked her how much ale she had drunken and she didn’t even like ale!

[Warden Thrice]

“A peahen?” He hadn’t the slightest idea what that was. Would he like to see? He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he nodded. “Char? My language. Far, far to southwest. The farthest of any, actually. It’s—what are you doing?” Her jacket had been shed and she was reaching for her shirt when she paused to ask yet another question. “I am not…” he said, confused. One of the first things a healer learned was not to be uncomfortable around naked bodies, though he couldn’t see any logical reason for such things to apply. He had to admit, the less clothing she had on, the less she looked human. Was peahen the name of her race? Her hair looked almost like that of a Konti, while her skin was bright pink like a human’s and her eyes were striking red. Her posture was strange; she managed to keep a straight back while looking hunched, and her gaze flicked around every so often, like a wild animal. No, she was definitely not human, but what exactly was a “peahen”? And why was she stripping?

[Ndale Soromund]

The confusion was evident on his face and she felt a small grin tug at her lips, not many people knew what she, then again her kind of bird were not common enough, at least, not this close to cities. She explained herself briefly, her voice muffled by the shirt,"It's a bird." “Char? My language. Far, far to southwest. The farthest of any, actually. It’s—what are you doing?” She ignored his question still lost in fascination at his languages description. Far southwest? She had not gone very far, mainly land and boat travel routes, all of which had involved hiding below deck in her bird form, an angry Svefra or two and the destruction of one small rowboat. But considering how odd the language was she had no doubt it would be worth doing again to go somewhere where she could immerse herself in the language and pick it up easier. “Good.” She chirped and discarded her shirt, tossing it to the side, the next happened much quicker, her pants discarded, falling to the floor and in that time that the pants were falling the young woman disappeared replaced now by a semi large pure white bird. Ndale cock her head up in an effort to lock eyes with the man once more, her pleased squawk leaving her, it always felt wonderful to stretch out of her human shape every once and awhile. The differences seemed more evident each time she stayed longer in her human form. Sometimes she wondered if she could fool herself into believing that was all she was.

[Warden Thrice]

She didn’t answer his question, so he simply watched as she continued to discard her clothing, and then his eyes widened as mist began to come from nowhere and pool around her. There was a flash of white and suddenly, the girl was no longer there. In her place was a shining white bird. It was perhaps two or three feet at the shoulder, with proud shoulders, a long neck and a strange thing coming off her head that looked kind of like a crown. “Well, by the sea…” he whispered in Char. Continuing in common, “That is a peahen?” He sank to a crouch to look at her more clearly, and was startled by a cry. He blinked, then tilted his head. The cry was different than anything he’d even heard. It was almost… sad. Mournful. Hauntingly pretty. “Was that good sound?” he asked. He looked down sheepishly when he realized that she wouldn’t be able to answer as a bird, but when he looked back up his face was widening into a grin. He had heard of her race. There had been tales told of them in his home city, but the location had prevented him from even meeting one. Abovewater, he had learned a bit more about them, though his knowledge was still sorely lacking. What were they called. “Kelvic.” That was it. They were called kelvics. “Amazing… Can you changing back, or it is long-term?”

[Ndale Soromund]

“Well, by the sea…” What was that? Her body shivered slightly, such a strange language but she didn’t doubt it was the one she had heard before, the ‘Char’. “That is a peahen?” Another question followed soon after, as quickly as the first, “Was that a good sound?” Waiting a moment she tipped her head to the side quickly before nodding, her head giving an odd bob, nodding in agreement to both questions. “Kelvic.” Once more she found herself nodding and then gazing at his mouth as he spoke, the odd sounds sounding foreign and oh so curious to her ears, “Amazing… Can you changing back, or it is long-term?” What she did not know in common she substituted for Kontinese, it was habitual more than anything, half the time she did not even realize she was doing it. Human languages were too many and confused her so she stuck with what she knew, adding words here and there. It seemed this man was much the same, bits of his ‘Char’ language filling the gaps in common and she was almost surprised that when she opened her mouth to demand he tell her what he said all that came out was a light and quick chirp. Well he did want to know if she was able to change back but as she was about to change back a flash in the corner caught her eye and she scrambled towards it, snapping the bug up in a swift motion. She briefly frowned at the crunch, she preferred her bugs softer…she was quite partial to worms. Glancing around she looked for another bug or odd bit of food to pick up and her gaze wandered to the man’s shoes. Oh! She had nearly forgotten him in her sudden interest in food, closing her eyes slightly she allowed herself to slip back into her human skin before she was completely distracted and ended up wandering away. “No, it is not permanent. I can go with whichever.” She felt a tad weary now though, rapid changes did that too her since she hadn’t eaten much, she was growing tired of the fish in Zeltiva. “But I cannot change again. I am tired.” She gave no other explanation save for picking up her clothes and beginning to put them on slowly, the bug had made her hungry and fish or not she was now ready to eat. As she tugged on a shirt a quick thought popped into her head and her question came out in a jumble with no particular order. “Are you hungry? What did you say before, in your language? I am Ndale Soromund.”

[Warden Thrice]

She chirped at his question, and he jumped slightly as her head shot to the ground and snatched a small insect. He watched her curiously as she swallowed, considered the quality, then turned and looked around, probably for something else. Her attention span did indeed seem short as a bird. She shook herself just as she seemed like she was about to meander away, and the strange mist surrounded her again. Before he knew it, there was a girl in the place of a bird. She assured him that her changes were indeed temporary, but that she was tired. Eorar nodded. She looked like it. She retrieved her clothes and slowly put them back on, and a little while passed before she spoke again. “Hm? My language? Oh, I just swearing. I am Eorar. Eorar Nevenon.” Eating. He mulled the thought over. There was supposed to be a nice eatery down by the Cerulean Pier. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “I might knowing a place to eating.” He waited until he was fully clothed, then, mimicking what he had often seen male humans do to female humans, he bent forward at the waist in a little half-bow and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

[Ndale Soromund]

Tugging on the last item of clothing Ndale searched around for her coin purse while waiting to the man to answer her questions, counting them carefully as he spoke. “Hm? My language? Oh, I just swearing. I am Eorar. Eorar Nevenon.” She cocked her head curiously, an odd smile on her face, “Swearing? Humans do that frequently…especially when I steal bits of their bread.” The thought brought a few memories and with the memories she had to smoother her laughter, choking a bit before she straightened herself, committing his name to memory and reminding herself to write it down when she returned to her cottage. “Eorar.” It was a strange name, a little hard to pronounce, the syllables rolling off her tongue strangely and when she tried to speak it in Kontinese it did not sound particularly correct either. It must have something to do with his language, after all it involved all those strange sounds to begin with. She would have to ask him for more detail but later, she felt a little lightheaded for the time being. “Yes, I might knowing a place to eating.” She watched him bend himself in half before extending his arm, what he was doing she had no idea but she tentatively linked her arm through his with a smile. He was interesting. He could answer her question and maybe she could answer some of his, it was obvious he was fascinated by her race. Then again, so were many, though fascinated was not always the best way to term it. “Lead us.” Moving out of the narrow alley way a thought popped into her head though and she turned to gaze at the man sideways and up to gaze at the man’s face, a look of deep curiosity on her face. “Why were you in the alley way?”