Birds of a Feather (Viridae)

[Sosicly Magnolia]

When Viridae asked if she was cold Sosicly shot him a look that clearly said how could he not be before giving a sheepish nod. At this point she had decided that perhaps her coming too was a foolish idea. And when they reached the first bird she was contemplating just laying down for a nap or several. But she took a moment to look it over with a nod before allowing herself fall gracefully into an undignified heap. Resting her head on her knees, she listened to the only sound she could make, a steady wheezing while spots danced in front of her. A shiver rippled through her while she forced herself to sift through her back to pull out her inkstick and write. Do you suppose I could dye feathers? I feel— A small line scribbled off the page as Sosicly turned, wobble a bit away and promptly emptied her stomach on the forest floor. A foolish idea, indeed. She tried to clean herself off as best she could then took a swig of water from her waterskin and spit it out. She ran her fingers through her hair and knotted it as she wrote again. I think I need to rest for a might longer. Will you sit? Finally able she held out the book with a brittle smile, her eyes tight. When she assumed he had read it she patted the ground beside her, wrapped her arms around her legs and rest her head on her knees. For a moment she felt much younger than she was. Sosicly watched Viridae and gestured to her chest then shook her head slowly to indicate it was no good.

[Viridae Kabre]

He nodded to Sosicly, with a soft "Of course," and sat down next to her, quickly pulling off his hunting jacket and drapping it over her shoulders. "The feathers can be dyed, but I'm not quiet sure how its done."

Moments passed as he glanced over her, his face flooding with guilt. He should not have pushed her so hard. He should have given her his coat sooner. He should have offered more breaks. The more he worried, the more guilty he felt, and before long he had set to building a small fire and placed his cooking pot over it, filled with water.

"Might feel better if you eat some," He said with a smile, and he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. The pot began to boil, and he hacked off one of the bird's legs, before plucking it clean of feathers (Making sure to stuff the feathers into his belt) and crushing the meat between two stones. He mixed the meat paste with some traveler's stock, and put the pot back on to boil. He usually did not cook during the daylight, and it was a welcome change.

Viridae stuffed the rest of the bird into his belt, and took a seat next to Sosicly, pulling his thin silk scarf over his exposed upper arms and shivering a little, careful not to show her he was cold. He glanced her over and gave her a warm, all be it, slightly concerned, smile.

"How are you feeling?"

[Sosicly Magnolia]

Sosicly felt as if she had accidently slipped off a rope and landed on her back, knocking the wind out of her lungs. But all the same she smiled and gave Viridae a small nod and began to write again, I am fine. I should not have come or warned you but I did not wish to be left behind. I become ill easily. She paused her writing to peer at the pot curiously, and then wrote again before handing her companion the book. While he read she attempted to even her breathing, sucking the air in through her nose instead of her mouth because the burn lessened. Then she held the breaths, counting to five before releasing them but her head eventually felt light and she stopped. Thank you for brining me out, Viridae, even if I cannot appreciate the outside properly. You are enjoying hunting? The girl gestured to the pot then between the two of them with a raised eyebrow. Something warm would be good for both of them, especially considering the way Viridae seemed to be using his scarf as a blanket. After another moment she retrieved the book to write again. Did you not bring a jacket? Sosicly held out the book again, peering at the pot once more as if staring would make it boil quicker, then looked slowly to distract herself. There was still just trees. Trees and ground, and bushes, and their food, and the every moving sun, a thought which made her tense slightly. Are the other snares far? I might need to rest after every snare…will we be back before dark?

[Viridae Kabre]

He paused for a moment to read from the book, then replied with a polite smile. "It was no trouble, Krova. Everyone should get to experience this once in a while. Even if they don't enjoy it much. In a way, it reminds me of our ancestors."

As she looked to the pot, he took a moment to breath the cold air, faint now with the smell of rich spice and cooking meat. "Just the jacket I put on you. Not to worry though. I've endured far worse." In that moment, his mind wandered to the girl, and the lake, but he shook his head quickly to ward away the thoughts.

He looked to the pad again. "There are only a few of these small game snares. do you think you'll make it higher up the moutain to check the raptor snares? If not, I could check them later and bring you the feathers."

After a time, the pot was boiling, and he pulled it off the fire. From his bag, he retrieved an empty jar and filled it with the thick brown soup, before handing it to her, and sipping directly from the pot, careful not to let his fangs touch the metal.

After he had finished his soup he sat patiently and watched her, concern leaving his face, filling him with a sense of releif. At least the condition was pre existing. Tons of people get sick in the fall from the thin cold air, and it was harder to breath up in the mountains. He just hoped she did not push herself too far.

"let me know if you need another rest," He said, kicking the fire out and rinsing the cooking pot with a bit of water from his sack. he packed his items and stood. "I'm ready when you are."

[Sosicly Magnolia]

I’m sorry, take your jacket. If we are both frozen we cannot get home. When he stood, she followed suit and slipped off the jacket. She laid it around his shoulder, a small amount of reluctance in the gesture as the warmth seeped away. Smiling at him she wrote again, I do not understand how our ancestors stayed here. It seems strange. Sosicly took a moment more to sip from the jar quietly, it did not taste wonderful but it was warm, and she slipped her book back into her knapsack along with the inkstick. A moment later she continued sipping and gestured for Viridae to lead the way. This time she walked slower, carefully picking her way of the steep terrain and breathing heavily through her nose. Already the toll of not being out much still weighed on her but she continued. Warming up with each sip she was able to better glance behind them, the way to Kalinor long sing gone. There was no visible path except for their small resting spot where tree branches were obviously broken, she noted thoughtfully, wondering how he simply knew where to walk. Looking in front of her she nearly walked into a tree and stumbled around it and nearly dropped her jar. As the terrain moved from steep to slightly flat Sosicly put the now empty jar into her knapsack and used her hands to help control her balance. The trees worked like stairs if she got tired, able to lean on the front of one instead of struggling to stay upright. The real problem was the ground itself, coming loose with each step, her slippers did nothing to grip the ground. But more than a few times she had felt something scurry under her toes and was grateful for the fabric between her and whatever lived on the ground. She was so concerned with keeping a good pace, breathing through her nose and not rolling back down the hill she nearly kept going when Viridae stopped at the next snare. But this time Sosicly moved towards him and watched him curiously, she tried to peek over his shoulder and see if there was a bird.

[Viridae Kabre]

"Thank you," He said with a kind smile, whisps of breath rising from his mouth. He stepped foreward and picked out the hyper thin game trail that lay beneath the blanket of leaves. As they beat on through the autumn and further into the valley, the wood thickened. Coming upon the next snare, to his dismay, Viridae realized it was not another gold colored partridge, but a fat wild turky, swaying slightly by its neck. He lossened the knot and reset the snare, before holding the large bird before Sosicly for examination.

The bird was male, signified by its thick tan of gold and brown tail feathers. The rest of him was black with the exception of a honey colored breast and blue skin on its neck and face. He tilted his head, before speaking.

"The tail feathers on this one could be of use. Very long. Although the short breast feathers are of better color."

"Your turn," He said, pulling off his jacket and drapping it over her shoulders, before leaning against a tree, and drinking from his waterskin. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but on the way here we also passed an empty snare. That leaves only four, not including the few on the mountain."

[Sosicly Magnolia]

At the sight of the bird her eyes widened. It was large and mostly bland colored save a fee areas. She fumbled her cold fingers around in her knapsack and pulled out her book and inkstick. Can we pluck the feathers I need then let it go? It seems heavy to carry all the way to the other snares then back. But even as she turned the book for Viridae to read she knew she wouldn't be able to make it to all four. It was a miracle she wasn't dead yet. Tomorrow she knew she would be in pain. As he reset the snare Sosicly watched curious in surprise and shook her head to indicate she hadn't seen it. At his next words she blinked in surprise she had not noticed the empty snare, hadn't even seen it. Then giving him a thankful smile for the jacket. After a moment she wrote again. I will not be able to get to all the snares. Maybe one more? Or you may have to carry me back. She seen no reason to mention that he might have to regardless. Then she followed his example and took a swig of her own water before writing again. Can you show me how the snares work? Do you use them often for your food or do you sell it? Do you have your own stall? The questions were shoved toward Viridae being both honest questions and an excuse to break. When he finished she put the book away and rubbed her hands and tucked them under her arms for warmth.

[Viridae Kabre]

Viridae observed her quietly. She looked alright, but gave off a sort of vibe that he had learned to sense. The same vibe that alerted a pack of wolves that an elk was injured, or told a cougar its prey was ill. He had never sensed it in a person, and until now, hadn't noticed, but he did not like the feeling that washed over him.

He scanned the book, and nodded in agreement, lifting the bird by one leg and yanking hard on its tail feathers. The bird jiggled, like a spring being depressed then let go, and he came away with all the tail feathers in his hand. He stuffed them into a pouch on his belt, and plucked the rest of the breast feathers individually. As an after thought, he cut the Turkey's fat legs off, and stuffed them into his ruck sack, then tossed the bird far into the tree line, whispering "Moz seh krevas dav'ene obris zhevat." under his breath. After the bird was dealt with, he reviewed Sosicly's notebook once again.

"These Snares are fairly simple," He began, gesturing to the snare. It was a thin silk rope, tied into a nose at the end, left to lie in an open circle against the ground with a pile of oats in the center. "First, the bird goes for the oats," He said gesturing to the bait. "When birds eat, they sort of peck at their food. Quite violently actually. They accidentally peck near that fork," He said gesturing to a fork barely stuck into the ground at the base of the rope. "The vibration against the ground pulls the fork loose, and the fork lets that sapling up." The bent sapling the nose was secured to could now be seen. "That is enough to tighten the noose around the animal's neck and choke it. If it doesn't choke, like any strong animal would, such as a rabbit or turkey, then it struggles to death." He backed away and smiled. "And that's it. As for my wares, I sell them at various places throughout the city. The pelt, to the Bat's Head, the meat to The Gatherer's Respite, and poor animals to The Hunter's Gather. Sometimes They give me better prices on large game than the Respite. "

Viridae rubbed his hands together, then offered his arm to her. "Last snare is not far, Sibealy," He said gently. In all honesty, he was beginning to worry about her. The hike to the final snare did not take long, but ran slightly up hill. He inspected the sapling to find another Partridge, except this one was female, and alight with gold and brown. He pulled its limp body from the noose, and held it up by a foot. Obviously, it had been there for a while, because its mouth hung open and its eyes were lifeless.

[Sosicly Magnolia]

Sosicly took his arm, eaning on him more than she usually would. When they got to the snare she sagged in relief, then scrunched up her face in distaste as the dead bird appeared in her line of sight. The other birds had not been dead enough for her to really process it, and now she felt a bit bad for her desire for feathers. Yet, if the bird was already dead it could hardly be her fault for using the feathers. The girl leaned heavily on a nearby tree as he plucked it, and decided that was enough. Even if is wasn't she would have to figure something out because she would not be doing this again. Tiredly she made to pull out her water once more, taking the last sip and not sure if it was helping or making her throat feel worse. When she finished she pulled out her book again, kneeling down to write and stay warm, The cost for these, how much would they be? I have another favor to ask as well. She flushd in frustration but held out the book. Granted she always enjoyed a free ride, this seemed more dangerous than their comfortable caves. But the spots in her vision, the swimming letters and rubbery feeling in her legs told her anymore would wind up with him carrying her body back. When she assumed he finished she wrote again, Would you be able to carry me, Viridae? I think I may faint pass out soon. I do not mean to be a burden. There was a tighteness in her writing, short choppy letters that spoke of either pain or anger. Her lips pursed in annoyance but she stood again, trying to shake out her legs while she waited for him to read.

[Viridae Kabre]

Viridae plucked the bird quietly, sticking the feathers into the same pouch he had put them into before, before stuffing its naked carcass into his ruck sack. The bird was small, but would fetch him a little at the hunter's gather, and that was plenty for the day. He straightened out and watched Sosicly write, wondering what came next. Surely she could not make it up the mountain, and he was getting that uneasy feeling from her again.

As she held out the book, he scanned it over and looked to her slowly. He felt bad. Obviously she was not having an easy time, nor was she enjoying the surface as he did. He did not pity, but rather understood her pain. Her dislike for the surface must have been similar to his dislike of being confined, but some existential opposite.

"No charge, I was glad for the company," He said firmly. "I still have the meat from the birds. Feathers aren't of much use to me anyways." This of course was a lie. Seivis had been selling his feathers for him to her costume designers, but it was not a dangerous lie.

As she wrote, he looked her over. She looked sick now, and she was blinking as she wrote, as if struggling to see the words. As she held the book out, he scanned it over, squinting to read the crooked letters. Without further word from her, he grasped her face in both his hands and looked into her eyes, his pupils scanning her face quickly for signs of fatigue.

"Climb on, Sibea," He said, turning his back to her and reaching back for her arms, He pulled them around his collar bone and leaned forward slightly so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He could not exactly run back in full gear, but he could definitely walk at a brisk pace.

After she was safely secured, Viridae chose a more direct path home, straight over the mountain as opposed to through the valley. As it became more steep, he dropped to hands and feet, and crawled upward quickly. "Hold on," He said, scurrying across ditches by way of over hanging tree branches. They were no longer on the ground, but crawling across a network of birch branches twenty feet off the ground. He continued to scurry around, very spider like in nature, until the path forced them back to the ground, and he stood, placing his hands under her thighs and adjusting her weight higher up on the small of his back. "Still alive back there?"