Cinnamon Sunsets and Sweet Secrets (Coltyn)

[Nya Winters]

Timestamp: 10th of Spring, 512 AV
Location: Roving the City


Bare feet easily traversed the sometimes ruined sometimes pristine streets of Ravok. Scents assaulted her from every direction in a body that was used to silence or very structured noises. The sound of her bare feet on wet stone felt loud in her ears, as too did her breathing, which she did deeply and with a vigor that could almost be described as addictive. Filtering out the scents was harder - unwashed bodies, the well oiled metal of weapons, the smell of human waste in the canals. She could hear other cats out and about, chattering with each other in their secret language. The Talderian Forest cat ignored most of this, one eye on the sky and one on the street behind her.

Her stomach growled again. A cat-like tongue darted out, moistened lips and then glanced about while a deeply intellectual mind made rapid fire decisions. She smelled cinnamon. It infused her senses making her tremble in a way an alcoholic would having tasted his first sweet sip of wine after days going without.

The predator that she was growled deep in her mind and her perception narrowed. Going into hunting mode was as natural for the cat as breathing was for others. She started to salivate, two four lithe steps, and huffed. Breaking into a smooth-gaited lope that was all cat and nothing resembling human, the kelvic tracked the fresh baked smell of sweetbread halfway across the city. She never gave a thought to how she was dressed in the sleeveless knee length tunic, barefooted and her long brindled hair in knots.

She only wanted the bread, the delicious taste of cinnamon and sugar melded in a confection so perfect not even the juiciest rabbit could compare. It filled her senses, and brought her straight to the source... some sort of bakery. She lingered, scouting, looking for a way to get what it was she wanted, needed, and craved as much as the freedom and fresh air.

[Coltyn]

The storm had wreaked havoc on the city and it had only been around for a few hours. Coltyn, along with most of the populace, could only begin to imagine what would've happened if it had remained for much longer. Although, good imagination or not, most understood that it would have been devastating. As it was, there were those who were now homeless, jobless, and, worst of all, suffering from both misfortunes. However, thankfully, there were citizens such as Yae Varone who understood the importance of giving back to a community that was very much in need of a helping hand. "Take these day-olds and hand them out," she instructed the young man as he now stood at the rear entrance to the shop she owned and operated and he usually guarded. "Don't linger too long in any one place. I don't want you to be overtaken by an unruly horde." "Understood," Coltyn simply replied as he hefted the massive woven basket set out before him. It was nearly full to the rim with an assortment of baked goods that Yae insisted were leftovers. However, he wasn't falling for that notion in the least. He knew for a fact that Yae and her assistant, Wylodor, were up all last evening, toiling away in the kitchen until today's morning sun crested the horizon. "Would you like Plebloom or, perhaps, Zinto to accompany you?" she questioned as he began to make his way along the alley that ran the length of the building. "Uh...no...I'm good," Coltyn grunted as he shifted the basket of goods from one hip to the other. "You need them here. I'll be...fine," he continued to grunt as he nearly tripped over a chunk of stone that had most likely not been there ten days earlier. Making his way around the immediate area that surrounded the establishment, it wasn't too long before he was heading back with a very empty basket, not to mention a renewed sense of hope for the future. If everyone gave even half as much as his boss did, the city would be a better place in no time. "HEY! YOU! GET AWAY FROM THOSE!" he suddenly found himself shouting as he approached the shop's rear entrance only to come upon a suspicious looking individual hovering over a tray of freshly baked cinnarels, which were cooling on the ledge of an open window. "Those aren't for the taking!" he continued to inform the thief, in a slightly calmer voice, as he dropped the basket and prepared himself for an altercation. "I'm sorry, but you missed the handouts for today. You'll have to come back tomorrow. We can't give it all away," he concluded as firmly as he could without sounding completely heartless. Please, he thought as he began to size up the situation, don't make this harder than it needs to be. Just move along. That's right. Move along.

[Nya Winters]

She stood still, absolutely still, simply staring at the sweet treats. Her moss green eyes were focused on them to the exclusion of anything else. She made no move to touch them. Forest cats were patient hunters that took no chances and were nothing if not thorough in their endeavors. But his voice, so suddenly raised and sharply accusing, caused her to blink out of her fixation. For that moment, just before she did so, the man shouting hadn't existed to her. Then, when she turned and pinned her full fledged predator's stare on him, he became a reality. She moved then, subtly, because the sun dappled the alley at an odd angle that painted speckles of sunlight across the cobbles. Instead of stepping out of them, she stepped with them, standing in the middle of the dancing light, tracking it, following it, refusing to be without it.

Being so long underground, she was as starved for the sunshine as she was sweets. And though her mind hadn't remembered her sweet tooth, her nose had and that nose talked to her stomach which drove her here.

For all that she was young, perhaps in her late teens, her skin was sallow. There was no other word for it. She didn't look like she'd been ill, but rather she looked as though she'd not been in the light for a long long time. Under her eyes a darkness shadowed the pasty skin there lending to the overall effect of unwellness. Maybe once she'd been a lovely creature, beautiful and filled with laughter, but she barely remembered those times and the laugh lines had long fallen from her face in favor of a gaunt lean look that ill suited her human form. Long once strong limbs lay bare before him, scars around her wrists lending evidence to long periods of incarceration or being bound. Her ankles had matching scars, the kind only manacles could produce. He could see other scars, one particularly ugly, running up her breastbone and out across her left shoulder. Only her hair retained some of its former glory, its unusual color evident in the sunlight as a stray breeze seemed to wind in and out of it, tugging the softly naturally curling locks. Yet, there was no wind in the alley.

A thick collar encircled her neck. It was buckled and fastened in the traditional way. The girl seemed to ignore it even though it fit so tightly around her neck it was doubtful a man's fingers could slide beneath it.

When she pinned him with her stare, she did not move any more than necessary but seemed to study him thoroughly. Comely, she could smell the fitness on him. He would give chase or fight and be strong in either. His face had an ease of laugh lines and just the slight countenance of a life of ease. But she cared little about his body, his hands, even his feet. She had seen them all at her first glance. What she captured with that look was his eyes, a stare so intense it seemed to freeze him in place.

It was the Talderian Forest cat in her. They had a marvelous stare that often froze their prey before they struck. Naturally hypnotic, the big cats were lazy hunters and often let their prey come to them. But he was no prey and she was definitely not hunting him. She blinked, releasing him from her stare, and started to speak. The rough croak that came out made her flinch. She swallowed, licked her lips, and tried again. This time warm chocolate words filled the air, rich and colored with strong intellect.

"I am no thief to steal that which does not belong to me...." She said softly, eyes darting back up to the tray on the window. "Some of narrow mind perhaps could only enjoy sweets by shoving such things into their mouths. They never realize that one can enjoy their scent just as thoroughly as one can their taste." She added, still subtly moving with the sunlight, keeping it on her.

"You put down the basket." She said, as if it should be obvious by her words why that was wrong. "It could be a weapon if you wished it to be. You should never cast away weapons." The big cat warned helpfully. "Not in a place like this. The whole city smells wrong and looks damaged. What happened?" She asked, her eyes glancing back to the sweets and then back at him. Her eyes did a quick scan of the alley and she shifted again, moving slightly, still following the sun.

[Coltyn]

She...she was speaking to him, but her eyes...no...wait...her words, yes, her words were not registering as they should. It wasn't that she was speaking in a tongue Coltyn couldn't understand. No. That wasn't it at all. It was...her eyes...they...they were intense, and soulful, and... Deadly? No. That was too harsh a word. She was a thief - even though she claimed otherwise - looking for a free meal. That was all, nothing more. Although... Now she was speaking about the fact that he had unarmed himself. Something about his basket making a good weapon? Was she giving him a hint? Did she plan to attack him? No. Wait. No, not at all. Somehow, someway, he knew that he wasn't in any danger. Well, not yet. Although, her eyes, they...they had him locked firmly in his place, even after she looked away. There was something about her, something not quite what it seemed, but he couldn't place it. Then she started saying something about how the city smelled, which was an unusual way to state that there was something off about their surroundings, unless...she was...well... "There was a storm a few days back," Coltyn began to explain as he remained exactly where he was, not moving an inch closer, nor giving her the impression that he felt threatened by taking a step back. "It was swift, but it managed to do its fair share of damage before moving on. There are those who claim it was an act of the gods and yet others who say it was the failure of the gods to act, to protect us, that brought such destruction down upon our heads. To be honest, I'm not sure I believe either option. Sometimes, well, sometimes things just happen." The young man paused now to give both of them a moment to decide what their next course of action would be. In this moment of silence, he scanned her figure, pausing at the tight collar around her neck, at her wrists that appeared rubbed raw, and at her ankles, which were equally damaged. Actually, it was the scar that ran across her upper body that held his attention the most. It looked almost...surgical? Perhaps she was telling him the truth. Perhaps she wasn't a petty thief, but, instead, a runaway slave. That would explain the collar, but he wasn't too sure about the markings. Had she escaped a cruel master who kept her bound in strange and unusual ways? Had they performed experiments on her? He had heard of such things before. However, the most pressing question was... What am I going to do with her? he thought as he suddenly found himself drawn closer to the poor creature.

[Nya Winters]

She turned and looked at him again when he spoke. Her body language and demeanor was intent, as if she was wholly focused on what he said and listening to not just his words but beyond even those to his feelings on the matter. When he was finished, she laughed abruptly. It was a warm spontaneous sound that caused even her to blink in surprise that it happened so abruptly. It was interesting enough that he was standing before her judging her even though she'd made no action to merit it, but now he was judging the actions of The Gods and even what others thought of them. And he found them lacking.

Was this place always full of such folks?

The Forest Cat respected people with opinions. She detested those that followed blindly and believed they all should be culled. Thinkers were vital though, to society and to the way things needed to change and evolve. She knew that. Zulrav had told her once, trying to compensate for missing gaps in her memory from the times before, when she'd been human and not kelvic.

She let his words sink in, thinking about them with the part of her brain that had learned to be human from being so intimately connected to Abashi. She analyzed what he said, letting it register and then noted his eyes on her body, on her scars. Her hand slipped up to her shoulder where the largest and most prominent scar was. She grinned at the mans' eyes on it. "When I was small I thought I was fierce and that even the Gods would fear me. I hunted something that had no need of being afraid of being hunted - a talderian bull elk - and he left me with this to remind me of my small size and how there should be moderation in all things, even the gluttony of hunger. I respect the Gods now as well because of him and his reminder." The woman said, shifting slightly, gracefully following the light in the alley.

"I forgot what I was back then, a child, I mean. Now, often, people forget Gods are just Gods and that they are not all powerful. There are things they do not know, things they can not find, and are creatures really no different from us filled with our same fears. If the Storm was not stopped it was not expected or controllable. But they see a great deal. Perhaps it was just a test. I would have liked to have seen it though... danced in it and maybe pursued it to leave more of the city unharmed. If it wouldn't have listened, I would have captured it, at least some of it, maybe just a small part, for I am only one person. I have not seen a storm in a long time... too long. And I am hungry for one if for nothing else than to talk to it and hear its roaring voice." The forest cat said.

Then she tucked her head and made a strange motion with her throat. It was limited because of the collar, but in only a moment or two she had something in her mouth that was not there before. She reached up, wrinkling her nose in distaste, and pulled it free. The gemstone swirled with color and pulsed with power and steamed slightly slowly drying the moistness from her mouth off it. It was about the size of a walnut. "This is worth more than all the sweets in that place. May I pick one in exchange for it?" She asked in her low liquid voice, offering the freshly vomited stone to him. "I'll select one and be on my way." She said softly, as if sensing she was a problem he'd rather not be involved with.

Prisoners routinely kept things of value within their bodies.. swallowing them repeatedly after their bodies had managed to rid themselves of the foreign objects.

[Coltyn]

Coltyn listened to her speak about the gods and the storm, and, he had to admit, he found her colorful words rather entertaining. He liked the thought of her dancing in the storm, toying with it, demanding something from it as if it were a mere misbehaving child and, best of all, she wanted to speak with it and hear its tempestuous reply. Clearly, she had missed the horrible event in its entirety, otherwise, she would not be wishing for such things. Although, if she had been locked away in some dark cell, a storm, any storm, great or small, would seem inviting, as well as invigorating. As he continued to move closer now, feeling less in danger with each passing moment, he suddenly found himself rushing toward her. She was choking! But why? She hadn't been eating or drinking anything, unless she had already helped herself to a sweet before he arrived on the scene. No. Wait. She wasn't choking, she was...regurgitating something? What the...? That sound she was making. It was horrible. But...but then it was over and she had something in the palm of her hand. It looked to be a gem of some sort. The type escaped Coltyn's untrained mind. "Please...no...you need that more than the woman who owns this shop and these goods," he replied as she offered it. "Here. This one is on me. I'll worry about covering the cost," he explained as he approached the tray, plucked the largest cinnarel from it, and proceeded to offer it to her. "Here, please, take it," he continued to offer the sticky confection. "It's delicious...or so I've heard." Suddenly, the young man became very aware that he was looming over her. He probably appeared threatening, even as he offered her the tasty treat. Therefore, taking a step back, with the pastry in his hand, he took a seat on the stoop that lead into the back of the shop. "Come on. I don't bite," he informed her before flashing his most charming smile as he patted the empty space next to him with his free hand. "If anything, I should be the one wondering if you'll take my hand off along with the sweet snack. For some reason, I get the feeling you could...rather easily," he concluded with a sidelong glance and a bit of a smirk on his lips.

[Nya Winters]

The kelvic watched the man watch her, almost flinching as he advanced forward then retreated, refusing the stone. The cat glanced down at the swirling stormgem in her hand and wondered if the world had gone so crazy then that no one valued a stormwarden's art anymore.

Stormwarden.

The name came to her so abruptly. She thought it was one of her lost words, a lost identity among other lost identities. The forest cat turned it over and over in her mind, examining it, trying to understand its meaning. Stormwarden. Yes she was that. She danced the storms and talked with breezes and followed Him. His name eluded her though. Every time she tried to remember, Rhysol's replaced the fleeting shadow of identity that was more a voice than a face in her world. She almost cried out in frustration, but refrained having learned long ago that such outbursts only encouraged not gave her true release from her fear and pain. The forest cat's eyes snapped to the man's face and she saw the offered treat.

He offered, retreated, then invited her to join him. She thought perhaps it was a trick. She took the sweet carefully as he retreated, and then watched him as he welcomed her to the seat beside him. She looked at his kind eyes, not knowing if it were deception, and then decided it didn't really matter. She wandered over and took the seat next to him. The kelvic glanced at her companion out of the corner of her eye, caught him looking at her, and took in his words. Meanwhile the sweet was a sticky weight in her hand, one she longed to turn her attention on.

At his banter she blinked, looked slightly startled, then turned to half face him. "I was raised gently. I do not bite." She said softly, no reassurance in her voice. She could not remember her childhood or who had taken such care with her, but there was a resounding truth in what she said. Some broken part of her deep inside grasped darkness where her memory should have been, trying to find some hint of the past that was not very long ago. It was not there. Nothing was. There was only the now. Only the treat. She dipped her head and sniffed the treat a long time, pleasure filling her features, to the point she almost looked serene. The kelvic dipped her head and then took a long slow lick across the top of the sweet, savoring its taste. The movement was sensual and intimate, as if she'd left Coltyn's world and journeyed into one of her own making where nothing could see her to interrupt her revere.. "This is very good." The cat said politely. A few more long slow licks and she was nibbling it delicately. Her actions were reminiscent of a big cat slowly savoring a bone that had fresh marrow inside and sinew still attached. Her motions were definitely not human but they weren't exactly crude. The forest cat moved slowly, carefully savoring the treat, not in a hurry at all to devour it.

It was as if she'd forgotten the taste of sugar and cinnamon altogether and was just rediscovering it.

"You should take the gem. It is a stormgem. My keepers will find me soon and they will take me back to where there is no sunshine. I would like a man with kind eyes to have it and not them." She said softly, reaching out and setting the swirling gem on his knee. "You can say it is payment for what I will ask of you next. " The kelvic said. "I want someone to ... to hear my words. Not just anyone, but someone like you with kind eyes. Will you listen and earn the gem?" The girl asked slowly, carefully, wanting him to really understand her words. She kept slowly stroking the cinnamon sweet with her tongue the whole time carefully savoring it between nibbles. But it was obvious there was something else on her mind.

[Coltyn]

He believed her when she said that she was raised to be gentle, however, for some reason, he could still so easily see her acting and reacting in a defensive, even volatile manner. It had something to do with her eyes. They were bright, stunning even, but, still...yes, they still had an edge to them. There was a storm brewing inside of her, simmering just below the surface, waiting to be released. He could almost smell the tension in the air. But then she began to eat her treat and the dangerous vibe seemed to dissipate before his very eyes. Now she appeared innocent and docile. The way she handled the sweet was...endearing? She lapped at it as a cat would a bowl of milk and, speaking of cats, he could almost hear her purring with contentment. That was it! Maybe she was...a kelvic? Yes! A feline kelvic! She had to be! He had seen a few in his life, from a distance, but he couldn't recall a time when he had actually sat this close to one, let alone conversed with them in such a private manner. Suddenly, the air felt...magical? Yes! Magical! And she appeared, at least in his humble opinion, to be a unique and beautiful creature not worthy of his plain and simple ways. Yet, here she was, offering him a precious stone - which he reluctantly took - and the promise of so much more. She wanted to share her story with him, in what little time they had together, and all he had to do was sit and listen. "I would be honored to hear your story," he informed her as he made himself a bit more comfortable by scooting his body up along the stoop until his broad back was resting against the outer wall of the shop and his long legs were stretched out before him. "Oh, and, just so you know, depending on who comes looking for you, I may feel the need to step in and put an end to your unhealthy relationship," he informed her with a rather serious look on his face. "You are far too special to be kept locked away in the dark. Never forget that," he firmly stated as if he meant the words for not only her but also himself. "Now, please, share your story."

[Nya Winters]

The woman shook her head a moment, taking the last bite of her sweet and then meeting the man's eyes again. "No, this is not my story. I have no story. They have stolen it from me and even my name." She said as if this was a fact she'd accepted, gently correcting his assumption that she wanted to tell him her story. In a way, it was her story, but not in the sense he meant.

"This place is a place of darkness. It's pride swallows it whole, even the largest bits. There is a place below the city, a place of marble and bars. They take people from their lives, from their homes, and hold them there. Humans, like you, and others like me. These people have no voice. They are hidden, pulled back from the sunshine, and used to pleasure people that have no other source of it in their lives. Life means nothing to the people that are the keepers there. Death means even less. They change one state to another - living to dead - with no thought. They demand things that are impossible and want things they have no right too. Many suffer. Many continue to. There were good people there, below, held for no reason. " The woman said, rolling her neck as if her collar was suddenly uncomfortable. She made no move to touch it though. He could see its discomfort.

"Why do the people here suffer this? Allow the sickness to boil beneath? This place is a place of dark lies. Those people here, above, suffer life only at the whims of those below. Each one is akin to the dead walking. Do you not notice?" She said softly, her voice soothing but her tone serious.

"You at least are human. And that changes things a little. But my people are treated as beasts, which is a more honest condition than humanity at times. We are trained, fought, bred... as if we have no minds of our own. If they want to see if we bleed like humans, they cut us with no thought to what such wounds do. They think we have no minds, no ability to be like them, but they are wrong. I can read, as well as any man, and think on what I have read. I feel tired when I work hard, much like others would. I dream when I sleep. I laugh when I feel mirth. It is very painful when I am hurt. When they take their pleasure as men either through words or the use of their bodies, it steals something away that makes us smaller and weaker and bleeding inside in our hearts." She said softly, with conviction.

"I just wanted someone to know. Kelvics are not what they say we are. We are far more, even if they refuse to see it. Do you hear? Do you understand?" The woman said, she asked, a desperate plea in her eyes for him to acknowledge what she was saying. "There are people there with no name now, people that had families and knew who they were or used to be. Some are dead because of the water and flooding, storm caused I suspect. But others still persist." She said, growing silent again, rolling her neck against the collar, as if she wanted it off.

[Coltyn]

As Coltyn gave the creature his undivided attention, not interrupting her once, a single thought kept coming to the forefront... Derik. She spoke of those who were taken against their will, humans included. Was it possible that his brother was among them? Was it? But...but how could he broach the subject without sounding selfish? This poor creature had suffered enough and, it seemed, would continue to suffer at the hands of some unseen monster. Honestly, what was his brother to her and her plight? Unless... "Maybe I can help you...and not just by retelling your story. Maybe we can take action, instead of allowing this to continue. There has to be others, such as I, who would be willing to take a stance. This is wrong, so horribly wrong, and..." He let his words trail off now as a figure approached. Zinto, he inwardly cursed at the arrival of his direct report. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" the imposing, alpha male questioned as he sauntered closer with a sneer upon his lips. "Has my pretty boy found himself a new fwend? Huh? Have ya, babe? Do ya gots yourself a new fwend?" he mocked Coltyn as he now stood before the two of them with his eyes firmly locked on the creature and, in particular, her collar. "You certainly know how to pick 'em," he added with a hint of laughter in his voice. "Hey, sister, if it means anything to ya, we've got a little something in common," he proceeded to inform her as he directed her attention to a similar collar that he now kept tightly secured around his massive bicep. "Once property, always property. Never forget that," he concluded as he pushed his way by the two of them, mussing Coltyn's hair along the way, before entering the shop. "I...I'm sorry about that," Coltyn was quick to apologize, not really knowing what else to say or do.