Flashback Winged Justice [Altaira]

[Meville Brightshade]

The fifty-first day of Winter, 508 AV

The northernmost city of Avanthal gleaned in the bright sunlight that bounced off every reflective surface it touched, creating the customarily scintillating splendor Morwen's Vantha were blessed to have each day Syna smiled down from the heavens. Of course, more than just Vantha were able to experience the city's breathtaking beauty and scenic seaside location. Many different races walked alongside the dark haired Vantha, ranging from the bestial Kelvics to the melancholy Akvatari, each came to the city for different reasons: some to visit, some to stay. Meville's family had been the latter, choosing to escape from the southern lands and make a place in the chilly tundra of Taldera. Despite the city's wondrous beauty and station as a bulwark against the unforgiving Talderan wilderness, Meville had found the city had more interesting things that pretty sculptures of ice and nighttime light shows. Avanthal was a city rife with adventure, excitement, and mischief if one only knew where to look.

For one, there was the Market. Situated around the famous landmark, the Frozen Falls, the Market housed an eclectic assortment of vendors from far and wide usually selling everything except whatever one might be looking for. It was a cheery place, mostly, and the atmosphere was often more than enough to lure both native and foreigner alike into perusing the wares whilst on an outing or lounging about between appointments. With so many different people coming together in a single place, it naturally stood to reason that chaos was only a matter of an insult here and a poke or prod there. Once the sparks were lit, the whole thing would burst up into a raging flame, dying just as quickly as it might start with the slight hint that the Icewatch might get involved. It was all done in good fun, more or less, and the average harm done tended to be nothing more than a couple Mizas worth of damages if that.

In fact, that very day, Meville had decided to stir things up a bit. It had all begun with the simple task of pitting two young men against each other and framing them for theft. It was much more difficult in theory than it was in actuality. What it had come down to was sniffing out the ever present couple plus one, a fairly common phenomenon, especially in a city where most were betrothed fairly early on. Thus, it had taken a entire five chimes to locate and designate those who would become his prey: Jakom, Mira, and Timult Whitevine. From what he'd observed the relationship flowed something like the following:

Jakom was betrothed to Mira, but he seemed to have little interest in her, choosing instead to focus more upon his friend Timult. Timult seemed to be a hot-headed chap, easily excited by anything contrary Jakom or Mira had to offer. Still, the young man was much more interested in Mira than Jakom, constantly making eye contact in such a way even Meville could feel the intensity of his gaze. Mira was, if at all possible, the loudest and most stubborn of the three. For Whitevines, they were incredibly rowdy. Mira was fiercely attached to Jakom's arm, but never once did she show and indication that she didn't enjoy the blazing lust blaring out of Jakom's eyes - though Timult seemed, if nothing else, oblivious to the fact. The three of them together created a trinity of angst, hidden agendas, and petty comradery: the perfect playthings for Meville's orchestrated pandemonium.

The first thing he'd done was use his projection to suggest Timult had begun to physically flirt with Mira - a gentle tap against her bottom or soft caress of her waist when Timult moved within a believable range and Jakom wasn't looking. After those suggestions, Meville had then proceeded to nonchalantly follow the group about, catching bits of their conversation as they continued along the stalls. When Mira's attention was, inevitably, focused upon Timult for too long, Jakom took notice - though more due to the fact Timult was reciprocating the longing gaze Mira gave him rather than Mira's own gaze. After that, it was fairly simple. The two men began shouting at each other, spouting out accusations that seemed outlandish even to Meville. During that time, Mira had moved back some, bumping into the stall behind her. Taking advantage of the situation, Meville slipped in behind her, snatching several bracelets from the table and stuffing them into his pocket.

Everything had been going well up until that point. The moment the jewelry was safely stowed away for use in his next step, there came a terrible screeching sound followed by a flurry of feathers. For whatever reason, a bird had shot out of the sky and began to accost Meville. The avian only added to the chaos that the market had erupted into. Shouting men and screeching women paired with the bird's obnoxiously shrill noises sent Meville scrambling off down the way, slapping his arms about to remove the bird from his immediate presence. His long legs extended before him, hurtling down the dug paths that had been created that morning. Not quite the most athletic, Meville made it a shot way before the bird once more dove at him.

"Back you feathered demon! Back!" His arms extended before him, flailing uselessly in the face of the bird's onslaught. "What in the name of Morwen did I do to get such a pisser after me?!"

Common | Vani

[Altaira Readva]

Common | Vani | Bird Speak

Altaira hated the cold. She hated the cutting wind and sharp bite of the air, the way her fingers were often numb and nose a flush pink. She hated falling and managing to get snow down her boots, then even more she loathed the way it then melted and froze her feet. It was a twist of bitter irony that she was born in Morwen's Frozen City, her animal counterpart thriving only in the warmest, most humid conditions.

Of course, her hopes of leaving the place in the distant future were dashed once more - her latest trip to coax her elder brother to leaving with her proving to be a lost cause. Her younger brother Dyson was already bonded and a full fledged adult, and her elder two sisters were both bound to the tundra as it was their natural habitat. She'd put her last hopes on Willem, bitterly dismayed to find that even he was quite happy staying in the blistering hold.

The trek from Whitevine to Frostfaun was an arduous one, and one that she had point blankly refused to do in human form. Which meant, of course, the journey home had to be spent as a feather beast, all the same? The wind had eased up some bit, but the cold was still beating into her. She did as she always did in such a time, and flew not so much as 'recklessly,' (As her brothers and sisters called her erratic actions in the sky above) but with exaggerated movements and the odd 'trick'; warming herself up as she tried to get her blood pumping.

It wasn't long before her gliding through streets and skirting across windows landed her above the market district, and she was quick to spot familiar faces - fellows of Whitevine: Mira, Timult, and Jakom, especially. She didn't understand what was going on with them. They were always together and kicking up a fuss, though they were among the first to happily treat her as though they were the same kind, so she felt some strange loyalty to the trio.

She settled herself above, trying to figure out how to get to them without any of the three getting mad at her. As it turned out, her family was 'strange' for having no qualms literally dropping in on one another. She been scolded hard and fast when she went to Whitevine, so much so that she didn't even take her beastial form for a month. Then, of course, she was scolded by Neda, and had a bit of a tantrum in regards to what exactly she was and wasn't allowed to do.

As far as she could understand, she could: take parrot form, fly however she wished, and approach people in parrot form. She couldn't: perch herself on people's shoulders (apparently it often caused pain and blood), scare people, or fly when there was a roof above her head.

Mira liked screaming at everything, as Altaira noted first day, which meant that she'd need a way to be seen without causing shock. Even if it was just a playful jest, and Altaira managed to get by without invoking the Vantha's anger, she would have spoken it loudly in the halls of Whitevine, and she'd be done for.

"Come on," She squawked, head bopping the direction of the frozen waterfall, not quite minding if they learned of her presence by sight or sound. "Come on, I want to play- Come play!" It was about then that she noted how weird they were. Well, they were weirder than they usually were.

She paced side to side, feathers puffing and piercing eyes severe on the scene. She noted someone trailing after them, and had there been a closer place to sit, would have fluttered and floundered for a more advantageous perch. Instead she had to make do running about like a bird gone ballistic, getting progressively more and more cautious of the blond.

She didn't know what he was doing, but she didn't like it in the slightest. When a row began she ensured her gaze did not falter, and the moment she saw the blond snag several articles of jewellery, launched off to attack. "Hey!" She shrilled, verging on a war cry, "Youputthatback!"

She went quick into her battle mode then, something she'd only thus far done to sister Sade, and dive bombed the boy several times over. She thought she was satisfied, then, hovering in the air quite some way above, only to have her anger struck once more as he merely made a run for it - her own interference sparking quite the havoc.

She went after him once more as he fled, his own insistent knocking and pushing her forcing her to back off lest she run the risk of badly injuring herself. He couldn't outrun a bird of her breed, unless there was magic involved, but she ran the risk of losing him beneath a building or roof, and took what she feared could be one of her last chances to dive bomb him once more.

"Justice!" She screeched, this time flying full throttle, before finally hearing any form of response. 'Back you feathered demon! Back!' She faltered for the shortest of moments, 'What in the name of Morwen did I do to get such a pisser after me?!' She wasn't sure if she should have been glad to hear him speak the common tongue, but she backed off quickly after.

She landed on the floor with a thud, before running to and fro before him angrily - though, the anger mostly came from the kelvic forgetting the harsh cold of the ground before she chose to land on it. "Idon'tknowwhatyoudidbutIknowitwasn'tallowed!" Her head bobbed up and down as she went upon her rampage, schooling the boy as though it were her duty. Of course it took her a moment to realise that he didn't have any hopes to understand her, and instead shrilled and screeched her words in a way that she thought that'd get her point across. "Stealing is bad! Don't think you won't get caught because obviously you just did, stupid head!"

She then powered forward and bit at his pocket, befall falling back once more and bopping her head towards it, treating the boy like a child who needed everything sounded out for him – when in fact it was more likely that the opposite held true. "Now take it back! Or I'll tell on you!"

occI have to admit, I laughed way too much reading your post XD

[Meville Brightshade]

The feathered beast was quite obviously far past the brink of insanity. Its
uncommonly green and red plumage was entirely foreign to Avanthal, which made to reason the bird had traveled from some distant land to end up in the frozen city. It seemed the cold had gotten to the creature, causing it not only a great amount of discomfort but also delivering a hefty dose of madness most likely brought on by the intense temperature drop of the tundra. In a way, Meville almost felt bad for the creature; or he would have if the damned thing would have left him alone to be insane on its own. Instead, the only sort of feelings Meville had towards the strange creature was a mix of antipathy and frustration. The way it sqawked and postured about, bobbing its head in such a peculiar fashion, made every little action it took all the more obnoxious. The only good thing about the whole interaction was the bird decided it no longer felt the need to assault him from the skies once he'd shouted his own bit of crazy. That was nice.

The creature was obviously upset. Once it had landed and began its bobbing and weaving, it had continued its incessant scolding - or perhaps some abhorrent travesty against song? - with a fervid ardor. Unable to understand whatever message may have lived beneath the surface screeching, Meville only glared back at the feathered animal rubbing his face where the stupid thing had managed to draw a bit of blood. Thankfully, the air about them was so chilly he hadn't really felt the blow, but upon inspection of his hand there was the telltale crimson trail upon his fingers. The little cut was probably about the worst injury the crazy creature could inflict upon him, but Meville wasn't going to take too many more chances. He pulled the collar of his coat around him before drawing up his hood, a defensive glare bouncing around in his fiery blue eyes.

It seemed the bird wasn't about to let him off that easily. The thing charged at him, bouncing off of the snow with surprising speed and dexterity. Meville only had time to duck behind his hands raised in defense before the thing snapped and tugged at his pocket. Having not anticipated his lower half to be the thing's target, Meville immediately dropped his hands and shouted back at the animal. "Hey! That's not place for a feather-brained crazy bird to be nipping at! Go on! Geteroff!" His hands rapidly shooed away the animal, forcing it back to its previous position in the snow.

Meville shot the bird a glare infused with the intent to kill before glancing down at his pocket. There was a slight tear in it that may or may not have been there before, but what caught his eye was a piece of one of the bracelets he had hastily stuffed into it when he'd run. Squinting slightly in though, Meville looked back to the bird who now looked almost... smug? Glancing between his pocket and the bobbing head of his aggressor, Meville frowned slightly. "You have got to be fooling with me. There's no way a stupid bird like you could-"

He stopped, biting his lower lip in contemplation. No, there certainly wasn't much of a chance that a regular, strange bird would accost him for petty larceny, but there was another possibility that would make sense. "Don't tell me you're a Kelvic. Gods, you interrupted me for... for what? Justice? Duty?" He rolled his eyes, becoming a bit more relaxed. Usually, Kelvics were much more civil than the run of the mill animal. "Look. I wasn't stealing, I was just borrowing. There's a very definitive difference between the two, you know." Shaking his head, feigning a condescending air, Meville continued. "You see, I was going to stick them into someone else's pocket. That's the best way to get everyone riled up, you know. Once they think someone is a thief, the shopkeepers all go ballistic. It really is very exciting." He then frowned, scolding the bird with his eyes. "But you had to come along and bugger everything up. That won't do."

Meville's voice trailed off slightly as he quickly evaluated the situation. He was speaking in a fairly rational, logical voice to a foreign bird who may or may not be a Kelvic. On one hand, if the bird were just a bird, perhaps talking at it would soothe it enough it would let him leave - though that meant he was trying to reason with a bird-brain. One the other hand, if the bird were indeed a Kelvic, that didn't really mean the thing could communicate with him any better other than doing things that might be able to be interpreted, a game of charades of sorts. Meville didn't really mind games of that kind, but when played with a ball of feathery wrath, it didn't seem nearly as appealing. "Why don't we make a deal, you and I?" Worst case scenario the bird would just bite him again. "Why don't I return my alleged contraband and you stop squabbling with me about the petty details of lawfulness, hm? Would that be acceptable, Mister Bird?"

OOC :

Ahaha, you describe bird motions quite well! I was chuckling your whole post with the bird logic and that DARNED BOBBING!

Also whoops wrong template. Oh well.

Common | Vani

[Altaira Readva]

Common | Vani | Bird Speak

She tried not to rant and rave too much as he spoke, but a low hiss reverberated as she seethed at several of his words in particular - one of which, of course, was in being called 'stupid.' She cocked and puffed her feathers a haughty manner. Just who had chased who, she thought, high and mighty about how well she thought she was handling the situation (If dive bombing and scratching up a suspect, then shrilling and shrieking at him could be called anything close to ‘handling,’ that was - then she was doing very well indeed.)

When he accused her of being just what she was, a kelvic, she was sure to shake her feathers in a nonchalant manner. She was one of those immensely proud of what she was, overjoyed to no end about what she could do. She was a little too young to fully understand the drawbacks – but she knew the quicker you aged, the quicker death often followed, and that if you’re still only young when you fall into the bind that is a bondmate, bad things stir in the mind. She wasn’t old enough to yet be privy of much else, though she had firsthand experience in witnessing just how quick she grew when compared to humans, and quicker still how her siblings measured up.

His last words were those of bitterness and spite, and the young kelvic froze in place, shooting the boy a peeved look when he further went on to make several slights at her. He then claimed that his plans were not to steal so much as ‘frame’ others and otherwise cause a ruckus. It ruffled her feathers to hear him defend himself by saying that all he wished to do was to ruin another's day, and she ensured that her displeasure was unmistakable."Right, 'cause that's better." She bobbed her head low to the ground she as finished her short, quiet rave; furious but not so rude as to completed drown out his words with her own demonic screeches.

She would have gladly launched at him as he made comment on how she'd screwed up his plan, thinking better of striding forward a few steps with wings outstretched. She was still only young and small, her best bet to intimidation was making a show of her claws, wings, and beak - though she dared not take such action in a delicate situation. She'd show her brothers and sisters how mature she was - she would deal with the mean man with no further conflict if she could help it.

He then spoke of a deal, and she quieted and settled down completely. Her eyes shot to the sky and then fell again upon hearing him keep on with what she’d decided to be an act, the deal entailing he return the good if ‘he’ backed off.

"Miss" She screeched, eyeing him sharply. She then backed up a few steps, reversing clumsily in the way of the market place. Parrots were not supposed to wade through snow, little lone take excessive amount of steps backwards, so she quickly found she had to lift her feet high and swing them in a gawky manner to carry out the action at a speed that was not akin to a slug. It was times like this that she wishes she was a light and agile as her brother, who was a third of her size but almost four times as quick on the grounds of Avanthal. To make up for it, she shot a 'death glare,' as she called it, toward the man - though merely making her look all the more ridiculous as she persistently turned her head some way towards her rear to ensure she did not to combat a clump that would otherwise topple her over.

"Don’t think I’m not going to be watching you," she finally continued, before keeping up with the movement as she turned and settled with her back against a wall – way clear for the blond boy to follow through with his end of the deal. To ensure he was well aware of what she doing, she furthered her actions by nodding her head in the right direction, hunkering down and keeping an eye on him at all times. She wasn't about to let him run off.

[Meville Brightshade]

From the looks of things, the strange bird was indeed a Kelvic. Either that, or it was just one haughty looking little creature. It seemed to understand him, more or less, though its reactions bordered on antipathy, especially immediately after he referred to the thing as "Mister Bird". "'Miss' then." He muttered, under his breath as he waited for the vain thing to think over his proposal. Knowing it - or she, as it apparently was - was a Kelvic made the whole exchange a slight bit better, though without knowing how old she was, it was entirely possible he was indeed dealing with a feather brain.

Once she seemed content that he'd properly guessed her gender (though how he would have been able to do it in the first place, he neither understood nor wished to know how), the bird proceeded to give Meville a peculiar dance of sorts. No, not a dance. It was something close to it though, slow, calculated, and- Meville's face had been fairly stern for the most part, but upon the realization that the little creature was walking backwards in order to keep an eye on him quickly morphed his slight frown into a large, beaming grin that released a hearty laugh at the thing. The way she moved her little legs high up to the side to avoid dragging them into the snow, hesitantly setting down her foot a few inches behind her, would have been bearable; the fact the thing kept a watchful (though bobbing) eye upon him was the icy cap on a little mountain of ridiculous.

Shaking his head in humorous unbelief, Meville decided it was best to do what he'd said he would. The bird was serious about all this, that much he could tell. From the looks of things, she seemed to be attempting intimidation, but her diminutive size, colorful plumage, and raucous squawking had had an effect close to the opposite of what seemed to be intended. He wasn't entirely unafraid of her (talons were talons after all), but in the long run, the bird was a silly little thing. Still, silly or not, Meville's plan had already been botched, and he hadn't even been able to remain to see what had become of it. At least now he'd be able to see the aftermath of the fact, it anything still remained.

Giving the bird, who had now situated herself against a nearby building, a disappointed sigh, he headed off in the direction he'd come. "I'll have you know I usually keep my promises without needing a warden to oversee my fulfillment of them." His words drifted forward, directed at the bird, but projected in the general emptiness of the path before him. "I suppose I should compliment you on your quick little beady eyes. Most birds I know would be far more interested in a spat rather than a wrist accessory." Meville glanced at the bird with a playful sneer. "You're a bizarre little thing, aren't you?"

A lighthearted laugh and Meville trudged on. He'd run a bit farther than he remembered travelling, thus he took his time on the way back, fiddling with the icicles that hung from lower sills and shooting his feathery shadow childish faces here and there. Since the thing only communicated in shrieks of various decibels, Meville had decided conversation wasn't anything he was immediately interested in. After all, if he asked her a question, he had not only to pay attention to her when she responded, but also translate bird motions in the Common tongue, a feat beyond his semi-bilingual skills. Instead, he'd decided to sluggishly make his way back, trying to take longer paths only to be scolded onto the correct one. Even on the right path, he still made certain to take his sweet time. Yes, the bird was, technically, herding him back to right the wrong he'd done, but he wasn't going to let it have the complete satisfaction of his total obedience. Besides, now that he was aware of it, Meville was pretty certain he could knock it out of the sky if it came at him again. It. Her. Gods, Kelvics were just too confusing to give proper pronouns to unless they were in their no so animalistic forms.

Finally nearing the Market, Meville stopped, looking at the bird. "Now, I said I'd return the bracelets, but I'm going to do it my own way. Interfere and I think I might add a couple feathers to these boring leather bands." His impish grin teased the bird as he fiddled with one of the bracelets he'd stuck into his pocket. "Fair?"

Common | Vani

[Altaira Readva]

Common | Vani | Bird Speak | Other's Speech

Altaira chose to actively ignore his first remark, scampering onwards with vigour. She was going to see through her little quest to the end, and she wasn't going to let herself wear out from tottering after the apprehended. She half wanted to take to the skies, feel the rush of the wind and the thrill that was to feel as though she was privy to what no one else was – few knew the roads like she did; knew the alleys and side streets, and bends and twists, the overall pattern and the trails most treaded on, she was as good as any Avanthal cartographer, if not better. In fact, if it wasn’t for the map she carried engraved in her head, Neda would never let her leave the hold unaccompanied.

Even still, she knew if she gave into her little heart’s desire, then he could very well find some place covered to hide, and after then he was as good as gone. In her mind, she wasn't so much 'bitterly scuttling after someone much bigger and quicker' as 'uniform, disciplined, and solemn marching.'

'I suppose I should compliment you on your quick little beady eyes. Most birds I know would be far more interested in a spat rather than a wrist accessory.' She huffed at the remark, though not without allowing it to inflate her ego every bit it could, the way she shook her feathers and held her head higher still, a testament to the feeling. She was a cocky little thing, such a trait helped little by the way those of Frostfaun like to compliment on her plumage and health. In contrast, she’d never been complimented on the quickness of her gaze or actions; save for the time she narrowly avoided Sade’s crushing jaws. 'You're a bizarre little thing, aren't you?'

With that, her eyes narrowed and head sunk even lower, returning his sneer with an annoyed look of her own. "Takes one to know one, jerk." He seemed it funny enough to laugh at her, then, and she picked up her speed in retaliation, only to be slowed down by the human's lumbering movements. There was a strong part of her that wanted to bite at his boots and pants, and force him into quicker pace, before realising how quickly tiredness was taking her.

This of course put her into a completely new mindset - walk slow and proud, and pretend you're not out of breath. Which was easier to do in some instances over others, she'd quickly found, with the apprehended occasionally taking the time to poke and prod her (metaphorically). It was at such times that she divided her attention between the direction they swaggered in and the way his head was turned. The last thing she wanted was for him to catch her when her head drooped and rhythmic bob pathetic. The more they went on the more it seemed like ‘tuckered out by walking’ needed to be added to the list of things that made Altaira sound ‘cute’ rather than her preferred ‘terrifying’.

More than anything, it was the blonde’s insistent attempts to detour that riled her. The first time he tried to take the wrong road she was sure to shriek and kick up a fuss, but the more often he attempted such slights and trails the less she needed to protest. Which was lucky for her indeed - she was close to throwing an all out tantrum at one point, her young age coupled with the discomfort that was sore little legs and cold feet making her wish she'd snatched p and returned the bracelets herself, that way at least she'd be done with the task.

But of course that had her only believe that was the plans of the man, and when he abruptly stopped short of the market he was lucky to speak before she protested. ‘Now, I said I'd return the bracelets, but I'm going to do it my own way. Interfere and I think I might add a couple feathers to these boring leather bands.’ She bopped her head to and fro and she thought on it for a moment, before scampering around to his right flank. ‘Fair?’

She continued to sway for a further few moments, judging by the human’s stance that he had no intentions of movement unless it was on his terms. She ran forwards a few further gawky steps, before turning slightly and backing up once more. It was only a few steps that time, just enough for her to crane her neck and get a good look at the guy. She still didn’t wholly trust him, but she trusted she had enough blood on her claws and his general scent should she try and coax Wilem or Neda to hunt him down for her, and she knew his face well enough to pick him from the crowed. He was blond haired with blue, after all.

She shivered for a moment, the bite of the cold getting to her with the halting of movement. If winter was warmer than summer, as they said, it was still far too extreme for the kelvic to notice. At the rate they were going at her choices were to stand there and freeze or grant the apprehended the lenience he asked for. The simple fact he asked shot him up several notches in her book of people she respected. She wasn’t sure if it was enough, but she bobbed her head and bowed low to the ground, tilting her head and peering up to make it clear that he was permitted to do whatever it was he wished. She didn’t allow herself to remain in the position for much long, however, and was soon back up and standing proud, head flicking off in no particular direction. "Go before I change my mind."

[Meville Brightshade]

It seemed the winged terror had petered out some. She was still every bit as tenacious as she had been at the beginning, but the prolong walk back to where the two of them now stood had seemed to take a toll on her. Meville figured the Kelvic probably wasn't exhausted enough to not throw a fit if he acted out of line, so to speak, so any thoughts of dashing off and leaving her behind were put on the back shelf of his brain. He really didn't have anything to gain from running away anyhow. The bracelets in his hands weren't all that valuable, and he'd never really been the sort of man that leaned towards accessories - though he had always contemplated earrings, he'd never really considered leather bands to be all that appealing on his wrists.

After his question, the bird performed a strange bow of sorts. Unfamiliar with bird body language, Meville stared down at the little Kelvic for a moment, a questioning look on his face. He waited until she squawked what seemed to be an acquiescence before giving her a grin. "Well then, thank you, Ma'dam. " Twirling his wrist with a flourish, Meville returned with a bow of his own. It was a semi-jocular copy of what the bird had done before, yet it still held the respect a bow was intended for. Straightening up, Meville nodded at his "captor" before focusing his attention on the scene before them.

It seemed the Whitevine trio had left, taking most of the chaos with them. To his right, several people were arguing over the price of scarves, but they kept their frustrated voices low enough that it seemed contained to the stall. Elsewhere, a good distance to the left of the stall he was to return the bracelets to, two of the shopkeepers had begun a dispute over "booth placement". From what he could tell, both thought the other had inched their stall over the agreed upon parameters, and was now trying to prove it. All in all, it was a fairly common scene of events.

Moving forward, Meville slipped the bracelets back into his pocket, making his way over towards the stall where they'd come from. To the right of it was a booth selling steamed fish wrapped in seasoned seaweed, a treat often enjoyed by those wishing for a quick, warming snack before midday meal. Meville moseyed over, grinning at the man who was manning the booth. As Meville approached, the man straightened up out of his slouch against the wooden counter before him, plastering an apathetic smile on his face before he recognized the young blonde. "Ah! Meville! I haven't seen your face in a while." The false grin quickly shifted into a much more amiable laugh. Meville returned with a smile of his own nodding that it had indeed been some time since he'd last visited the stall. "You've been well, I hope? Selling lots of those delicious fishy-bites?" The actual name was something in Vani neither he nor the man who sold them could pronounce. "Aye. Though not to anyone who loves them as much as you, I'd think."

Meville glanced over at the woman sitting behind the table upon which sat a vast array of leather based accessories. She seemed just as bored as Rufus had before he'd walked up to chat. Not entirely certain if his little plan would work, Meville decided he'd already started it so why not finish. Letting his eyes fall on Rufus again, Meville raised a brow at him. "Do I still get that discount or I gone too long without visiting to deserve it anymore?" His words carried with them a soft pout, though his face remained entirely cheery. Rufus laughed, shaking his head as he snatched up a quill and some paper, "No no, you still qualify. You wouldn't believe how often Graven still asks me how you managed to stop that pot from sizzling off his face." Giving Meville a probing grin, Rufus continued. "How exactly did you do that?" Meville shrugged, rolling his eyes. "I've told Graven at least twenty times I didn't do anything. I just happened to be there."

The two of them laughed at the mental image of old Graven ranting and raving about how Meville had miraculously saved him. "Well, seeing as you don't have anything better to do, could I get two? ...Actually three?" Rufus smiled and nodded, scribbling something down on his paper before bustling about the small area, getting everything prepared. While he waited, Meville casually leaned against the table of the booth, letting his eyes land upon the spot he'd come from where the bird still stood, watching him. Gods, she was persistent. From the looks of it, she didn't seem entirely pleased with how things were going, so he gave her a huge, toothy grin and a "thumbs up". That didn't seem to help any, but it certainly gave Meville a whimsical chuckle to hear the distant cries of the little bird. She really wasn't all that bad, he supposed.

"Don't tell me this is your lunch." Meville turned back to Rufus, grinning. "Rufus. Are you trying to give me dietary advice again?" The other man shook his head, tsking Meville with a waggling finger. "I'm just trying to look out for your health, is all." Meville pulled the appropriate amount of money from his pocket, handing it over to Rufus in exchange for the three toasty bundles he'd ordered. "Well then, my future healthy self thanks you and your holistic advice to not eat snacks as a substitute for meals." Rufus just rolled his eyes, stuffing the money into his own purse.

With food in tow, Meville made the short trip to the woman's stall, giving her a friendly wink. "Common?" The woman gave him a bored nod. "Excellent! I've brought you a snack I thought we could share as we get to know one another. Doesn't that sound lovely?" Apparently, Meville was the only one who seemed to be fond of the idea. Rufus found it appropriate to call over, "Ladykiller!" to which both Meville and the young woman responded with a frown in Rufus' general direction. "It doesn't sound 'lovely', but I guess I wouldn't mind the company. Not much has happened to day, and sales have been slow."

Meville grinned as he handed over one of the steaming parcels. "Gods. I've been smelling this stuff all day." The woman didn't waste any time unwrapping and stuffing the food into her mouth. Not exactly refined, she seemed happy enough. "Whadya wanna talk about anyway? I'm assuming you aren't really trying to flirt with me." Her last statement seemed a bit resentful. Meville unwrapped his own "fishy-bite", gnawing on a section before responding to her question. "Rufus certainly thinks the opposite." To which Rufus made a loud "whooping" noise. The woman's mouth turned slightly up into a half grin as she picked at the fish that had fallen from its wrap on its trip down her gullet. "I was actually wondering if you were the one who made all of these. They quite well done. Especially these." His last statement had been paired with picking up and looking as some especially intricate pendants that were entirely made of leather.

"Yep. I made everything here except that one you're holding." Her voice gave Meville the impression that she was proud of her handiwork and a little miffed he'd chosen the one thing she hadn't made to praise. Setting down the pendent, Meville ran his finger over the others. "How long does this sort of thing take you? I can't imagine is a quick, mindless process like steaming fish and seaweed." Both he and woman waited for a response from Rufus, but none came as a man and his daughter had approached his stall, distracting him from their conversation. "Depends. Those pendents took me several days, but something like those bracelets over there only take a few-" She frowned then, staring at them.

During the short amount of time she'd been explaining how long it took for her to make her wares, Meville had slipped his hand into his pocket, retrieving the contraband from his pocket. As the woman hesitated, Meville gave her a questioning look, making sure to keep the bracelets out of her line of sight. "Oh... It's just I'm pretty sure there were more of 'em. I don't remember selling any of 'em today..." Meville gave the woman a surprised raise of his eyebrows. "They weren't stolen, were they?" The woman scoffed at the suggestion. "Are you kidding? Who'd steal these anyway? They're basically scraps with strings on 'em. I only sell 'em cause people don't know good stuff from bad stuff anyway." She laughed then. Meville took that opportunity to subtly drop the bracelets into the snow under the table. "Well, I'm sure you'll find them anyhow." Finishing his fishy-bite, Meville stood up giving her a happy nod. "Thank you for sharing a beautiful seafood moment with me." The woman rolled her eyes again, though this time she seemed a bit more cheerful. "Next time, buy something, a'right?" Meville grinned, nodding, thought not necessarily stating he'd do anything of the sort. With that, he turned and headed back to where the bird was waiting, waving to Rufus before focusing his attention on where he was going.

"Alright, Miss Winged Aviator. I've returned what I wrongfully procured to she whom I wronged. Am I forgiven?" His tone was heavy with sarcasm, but it not longer carried any sort of anger or frustration towards the bird. "Oh! I almost forgot..." Meville set the little bundle of food next to the bird. "I'm not entirely certain if you're the sort of bird that eats fish, but I got this for you anyway. You were looking a bit... Ah... Peckish." He couldn't help but chuckle at himself as he stood back up, smiling down at the Kelvic. "And don't fret. I didn't steal it or any sort of abhorrent deed of the like." The last bit was added with a little huff of feigned indignant hurt.

Common | Vani

[Altaira Readva]

Common | Vani | Bird Speak | Other's Speech

She couldn't have hoped to hear the conversation as it panned out, the white noise of the area too much for her to do little more than guess at what was said. He was speaking to the man who tended one of her elder sister's favourite stalls -- Rufus? The name sounded right, and the more she assessed the man the better it fit. The exchange, from what she could see, was light and kind, the sound of laughter just loud enough to be heard. For a moment, it seemed like the blond had forgotten his mission, and when a grin and thumbs up were shot her way she shrilled in retort. "Hurry up! I'm freezing my feathers off!" She huffed and shivered, brushing away the white bringer of hyperthermia as she sought a more comfortable place to stand in wait.

The blond looked like he was chuckling once more and Altaira shot him a glare as she considered the possibility of it being herself that was the butt of the joke. It was with an icy glare that she watched him collect his snack and move on to the owner’s stall, and she watched as he gave the owner a look that was common among the Vantha trio of Whitevine; she couldn’t help but wonder if it was something common to human courtship rituals. He had a roundabout way of doing things, that was for sure, but from what she could his plan was working well enough. There were a few moments when she almost settled herself somewhere high and above to better monitor his movements, but she found that she could at least see him well enough with little more than a lean in the right direction.

It didn’t take much more before the idle conversation that seemed to be taking place bored the kelvic to no end, her gaze faltering and slipping to several local sites. In another moment, she coaxed her attention back to the apprehended on his little course to redemption, only to find her sight once again stolen. The look of the fish wrapped in seaweed was enough to trigger the pangs of hunger, and the time of day dawned on her. She’d thought that she’d be able to eat at Frostfaun, and even told Neda not to worry about fashioning her a lunch, or sparing time to do so. Regret and hunger. Two of the kelvic’s least favourite states were rife within her.

She supposed that she could seek out a meal herself after returning home, it had only been a season since she’d taken up home in Whitevine, the invitation extended to her and her elder sister something she was tremendously thankful for. She could always try and raid the greenhouse, and make an adventure of it. She scolded herself for slipping out of mind while on guard, and focused herself on how things were playing out. She saw the bracelets held behind the blonde’s back, and inched closer as she took care to ensure he did what was promised.

She huffed when she saw him toss them to the ground, though conceded that it was better than nothing. ‘Alright, Miss Winged Aviator. I've returned what I wrongfully procured to she whom I wronged. Am I forgiven?’ She could hear a sarcastic twist to his words, but paid them no mind, warbling of her content. "Oh! I almost forgot..." She backed up a step as the fish snack of lain before her, and she was once more set with internal conflict. If her eyes could have been set any wider, they’d rival that of an owl. ‘I'm not entirely certain if you're the sort of bird that eats fish, but I got this for you anyway. You were looking a bit... Ah... Peckish."

His hulking presence eased off, and she was left with a shiver and her gaze flitted between the blonde and the food.[color=#6B8A5C ]‘And don't fret. I didn't steal it or any sort of abhorrent deed of the like.’[/color] There was a mock pain to his tone that she was far too invested to care for, bobbing her head up and down, and shifting her weight like a crazy little thing as she formulated a plan in her tiny bird mind.

She’d never turn down food, and she’d seen it as it was purchased herself – but she had no hopes of consuming in it beastial form. Beaks such as her own were for fruit and nuts, foraging and of the like. She could probably attempt to get it down, but it was more trouble than it was worth. She considered taking it straight to Whitevine, but the cool air and speed of flight would leave it cold by the time her flight ended. If she was to do that, then she might as well head straight for Coolwater and gift it to Sade. It would help make amends for their last argument... but she wanted it for herself. She danced on her two little feet for a moment more, debating whether or not to take the chance and hope that some semblance of warmth remained in it.

Altaira was far too impatient to think on the options with great depth, not bothering to dwell upon ways to keep the food warm or sheltered while in flight, and curtly made the decision to end her thinking then and there. Her switch was much like that of any other kelvic’s, the light and dissolving of her own from something that she’d not only been through a dozen times, but also seen, and was particularly boring to herself at least. The only difference to the norm was the way she shuddered and huddled in reaction to the elements. At least in parrot form she had some form of protection from the cold.

She was glad that she was only small of make - yet to hit puberty and her growth spurt, she was told - and the strong Vantha heritage in her was unmistakable. Her skin was incredibly pale, though the tone it took was akin to her mother's, who claimed it was the lack of sunshine that caused such a lack of colour. Her hair, like Willem, Sade, and Dyson, was thick, black, and bore loose curls. It was her eyes that had most of the Vantha populance so outright confused, with the look of them quite simply odd. They bore the bright vibrancy that came with the usual, though their shape was distinctly rounder. She assumed that it came from her other half, though there were many who pushed the trait onto the heritage of her mother - what ever it was.

Altaira didn't waste a moment in the cold, and took the meal offered and immediately devoured it. The quicker it was consumed the quicker she could take parrot form and find somewhere warm to rest, was her first thought. She shot a glance upwards to the blonde, swallowing a rather small chuck of fish before continuing on to speak. “Thank you~”

ooc :

You. Genius.

[Meville Brightshade]

Meville was not entirely in the dark when it came to Kelvics. He understood they could shift their forms between their respective animal and humanoid, however he'd never actually seen one do so. Thus, when the little bird, after a short moment of deliberation, changed into a proportionally little girl, Meville was entirely speechless. Surprise was painted over his features as his bright eyes regarded the pale, hunched figure of the nude child as she hurriedly began stuffing the food into her mouth. Her skin was of a porcelain tint, much like his own with a full dark head of gently curled hair that obstructed much of the finer details of her childish frame. Meville had never been the sort to find much discomfort in the nudity of others, but when it came to children he found there was a solid sense of awkward uncertainty. For one, he couldn't decide if he should continue staring, mouth partially agape, or glance away to allow her privacy. For another, she was a child, so he assumed his staring to be exponentially more rude than if she were an adult.

At her quick glance upwards, Meville immediately felt a rush of relaxation. Her eyes were exactly the same in character as when she'd been the bird. She'd been naked then too, only she'd been a bird. Now? Well, now she was just in the form of a pale, Vantha-esque girl stuffing fish into her mouth as fast as she could. His mouth turned upwards, halfway between a smirk and a grin. "You're very welcome." At that point, a few of the passersby had stopped to stare at the two of them, to which Meville responded with a cheerful wave and smile. With his nonchalant dismissal of a rather bizarre situation, people seemed to just accept it was something they shouldn't worry about, and the ones that stopped moved on, whispering in hushed, blushed, wide-eyed tones.

As the once-bird finished the food he'd brought her, Meville gave her a skeptical frown. "Shouldn't you be changing back now? You're looking a little bit chilly." Really, Meville wouldn't have minded her staying in her human form. At least when she was a human, he could converse with her. She spoke Common, whether fluency or not was in her repertoire, it was far better than her screeches and feather flapping. Still, if she froze to death, she'd be even more of a nuisance to deal with. The last thing he needed was to have to explain to the Icewatch what had happened. "My stomach isn't entirely satisfied either, you should know. For the savior of my morality, I would be willing to part with my Mizas for a meal for two." He shrugged, adding, "Somewhere warmer, certainly."

He very much wanted to know more about the little Kelvic. While not fond of being accosted, the more he could learn about her, the better he could understand her; and with that understanding would, inevitably, come the tactics to keep out of her way the next time he wanted to have a bit of fun. Whoever suggested that enemies be kept closer than friends was wise.

Common | Vani

[Altaira Readva]

Common | Vani | Bird Speak

His words were accompanied by an impish look, something halfway between a grin and smirk. 'You're very welcome,' he said, and she frowned at the sudden shift in formality. Where all humans this shifty? She guzzled the final few bites and she shuddered against the cold, her toes quickly gaining the sharp pain that came with contact too long against snow and ice.

'Shouldn't you be changing back now? You're looking a little bit chilly,' was his next brilliant remark, and she nodded stiffly. If it was warmer she wouldn't have to go through such difficult hardships, and if she were a beast more in tune to the cold it'd be a different story entirely. 'My stomach isn't entirely satisfied either, you should know. For the savior of my morality, I would be willing to part with my Mizas for a meal for two.'

She glared at him for a moment, eyes narrowing partly to shield them from the cold, and partly to prevent an oncoming headache. He was a stranger - and strange stranger, at that. One who she caught stealing. Well, he most certainly cleared his some by taking the article back, but the fact remained that he-

'Somewhere warmer, certainly.' With that she was won over. If it was only for a short while, then surely it would be fine, correct. She gave him an uncertain look. "So long as I'm home for dinner..." she trailed, fighting the urge to outright agree. She gave a look towards the markets, scanning the place for a familiar face. Whether she was looking for someone she knew to stop her from going, or to ensure that someone knew who she was with, she wasn't all too sure.

She rocked on her heels for a moment, before deciding that she was tired of the way her human form was so readily exposed to the elements. "Stand still, blondie." She paused,and after a moment of consideration used her manners, "Please. And I'm sorry about your face." She continued on with the change then, light and dissolving and all, before returning to her feathered form. She was hit with a short spell of tiredness, shrugging it off and taking in the strangers height.

It was far too late to go back, she thought, and made a jump that startled those that walked by. She'd flailed and floundered quite some bit, but her perch upon the human's shoulder well positioned. She wished one of her siblings was leering around to see her good work, with that little jump more often than not ending in someone dodging her advance. She cooed quietly about her good work, and gleefully settled down. It was far warmer, and more comfortable a place than the snow.