The man held up his hands in defense from the antsy Yasi and laughed before crouching down beside him. "Well, actually, I kinda do." He laughed. His rusty hair was held back in a tail at the base of his neck and his eyes, blue like the sky, were flecked in green and had turned from wary to gentle in a heartbeat. "See the watermark there?" He pointed to a seeming smudge in the sketch of the bird-thing and the monster. The bird's was just beneath the wing and the monster was just beneath the foot.
"My brother knew this artist from Lhavit, met him a few years back he did. Said he was Jamouran! Who'da thought those fat fingers could do anything so delicate, but sure'nough there it is!"
Siilark had moved away from Aose now, hopping down and then up to fly onto the strangers shoulder. The large beak took a jab at his ear, but the man didn't even flinch. Instead he just reached up and tweaked the beak in return, clucking his tongue back at the bird. "See, the artist had been travelling from the Spires, way up in Taldera. He was actually living in Lhavit but needed to make a trip home for some reason or 'nother, and stopped in Wind Reach for a spell. Anyways, he told my brother about this old forest that he was told about where some ruins are. He said it dates pre-Valterrian, too! He said that there's a story about this mystical bird that lives in the forest, all green, but nobody's ever actually seen the bird. He also said the story talks of a Journeyman." The fellow tapped the piece with the scrawled name on it. "Looked like that, he said, but bigger! It flowed like water and hunted as keenly as a cat, silent in the brush."
Siilark kruk-krruk'd at Aose then, locking eyes with her then ruffled up his crest and picked at the gingers shoulder. "Ah, no no! Don't need a hole in my shoulder thanks." The man said, sliding a hand to the birds feet and lifting him deftly from his shoulder. "Handsome bird, by the way, kid. A real charmer. How old are you anyways? Shouldn't you be doing your bendi?" The question wasn't pushing for a fight or reprimanding, it was just curious as he stroked at the birds chest feathers now.
x"My brother knew this artist from Lhavit, met him a few years back he did. Said he was Jamouran! Who'da thought those fat fingers could do anything so delicate, but sure'nough there it is!"
Siilark had moved away from Aose now, hopping down and then up to fly onto the strangers shoulder. The large beak took a jab at his ear, but the man didn't even flinch. Instead he just reached up and tweaked the beak in return, clucking his tongue back at the bird. "See, the artist had been travelling from the Spires, way up in Taldera. He was actually living in Lhavit but needed to make a trip home for some reason or 'nother, and stopped in Wind Reach for a spell. Anyways, he told my brother about this old forest that he was told about where some ruins are. He said it dates pre-Valterrian, too! He said that there's a story about this mystical bird that lives in the forest, all green, but nobody's ever actually seen the bird. He also said the story talks of a Journeyman." The fellow tapped the piece with the scrawled name on it. "Looked like that, he said, but bigger! It flowed like water and hunted as keenly as a cat, silent in the brush."
Siilark kruk-krruk'd at Aose then, locking eyes with her then ruffled up his crest and picked at the gingers shoulder. "Ah, no no! Don't need a hole in my shoulder thanks." The man said, sliding a hand to the birds feet and lifting him deftly from his shoulder. "Handsome bird, by the way, kid. A real charmer. How old are you anyways? Shouldn't you be doing your bendi?" The question wasn't pushing for a fight or reprimanding, it was just curious as he stroked at the birds chest feathers now.
